We went camping this weekend, and it was glorious. We went for walks along the crunchy trails, read a ton, played games and just enjoyed the forced relaxation imposed on us. No responsibilities, no human interaction, no reason to shower since the need to spray on a thin veneer of Repel becomes apparent after you discover 942 red welts on your bare feet.
On Saturday, I finished my book and raided the campground library for another one, which I read while lying on the hammock. At one point, I just listened to the birds (the ominous forest sounds from last year were nonexistent this time, thank god) and watched a thin swatch of clouds float by, dissipating before they reached the end of my vision. I took lots of deep, piney breaths and remembered how much I love to be outside. I went for a walk to gather kindling and saw a startled wild turkey land awkwardly in a neighboring camp site, where it wandered wildly in circles, its head bobbing furiously. It flew away, crashing into tree branches as it left.
On Saturday night, right as we were listening to the Twins on the radio going into extra innings, it started raining. We packed away our non-essentials and moved our chairs under some trees. It was nice, I proclaimed, listening to the rain.
Then the wind came in, grabbing the tree limbs and shaking them hard, while cold gusts blew the campfire menancingly. And I got a bad feeling. Jason asked if I wanted to leave and while I didn’t, I didn’t like what I felt in the air, either.
I decided we should bail, and Jason started making room in the car while I packed up the things inside the tent. The rain was coming fast and furious, and I was mentally counting “1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi” between the lightning strikes and thunder.
Lightning flashed and before I could mumble “1-,” thunder crashed and the ground shook. I heard something in the forest crack and splinter, and for a brief second, thought a tree might be heading my way to crush me inside the tent, leaving my legs twitching underneath the leafy rubble.
A few minutes later, I heard another giant, simultaneous lightning/thunder combo, followed by Jason screaming, “OW!” I called out his name. No answer. I called again, more loudly. Nothing.
Turned out he slipped on some mud while carrying our heavy cooler and fell flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him.
I honestly thought he got struck by lightning.
We shoved our half-rolled tent into the trunk and collapsed sopping wet into the car to drive home. Tree limbs were down on our street, but we didn’t have any damage. A pine tree further down the block was completely uprooted, and another tree looked like it was struck by lightning.
I’m glad we came home early.
Highlights:
It was already wet throughout the campground when we arrived. This was the area right next to our site. The mosquitoes…um…thrived here.
It looks like it here, but we are definitely NOT low-maintenance campers, even though we only use a tent. We have a ceiling fan for our tent, for god’s sake. And a hammock.
Also, we’re the kind of people who make their bed even while they’re camping:
Want one? Too bad, this one’s mine. And I ate it…on the hammock.
I also ate one of these. I don’t really believe in cooking them; they’re much better raw:
Jason was horrified, and demanded that I learn the proper way to make a s’more:
Fine, this looks pretty tasty too, I GUESS:
I am still down by 34 games. Shameful. Please note our high-class playing cards. They scream “fancy,” don’t you think?
