Postby Mithrandir » Sat Aug 30, 2003 11:31 am
Hey All! It's time for Ethel the Ardvark Goes Quantity Surveying. No wait, that's someone else's deal. It's time for Adventures in Camping with OldPhilospher. As some of you know, the wolf and I went camping this last week. Whew! It was so, um... entertaining, I figured I'd let you all know about it! Here's how it went down:
A large group of us were going camping. Us, our friends with a small baby, another family of 3-4, a youth leader from LA and one of his teens. Oh yeah, and the wolf's good friend who has made a total of 1 appearances on this board.
The fun all started when the family of 3-4 decided not to come. We were sad, but undaunted, and planed for 7 people plus a baby. We were going to leave on a Sat and return the next Sat. We were going camping in northern CA where one of our group has property on a remote lake. On the Thursday before we were to leave, the baby caught the croup. The leave date was postponed until Sunday or Monday. By Sat, it was clear that the baby could not come. Understandably, his parents decided not to either. Remember the property guy? It was the baby. No, I'm just kidding. It was the father.
We were sad, but determined, so we planned for 5 plus no baby. I was able to reserve a spot for us at a state park closer to where we live. As it turns out, this was a very good thing. And there was evening, and there was morning on the first Saturday.
Now, as all of you who have ever tried to arrange for a reservation at a California State Park know, you have to get the reservations at least 48 hours in advance. Meaning I could only get us in on Monday. So on Monday morning we packed up our car & headed out to meet everyone else. When we got there, it turns out the wolf's friend was not going with us. We were sadder, but still undaunted. We loaded everything into the truck and trailer and headed out.
We arrived a few hours early, so we decided to stomp around the park near the camp ground. We walked for nearly a mile behind a group of ladies whose intelligence simply cannot be measured on a normal scale. While traipsing through the redwoods, we'd hear - every 2 minutes or so - "Look! A red tree!" Then one of the other ladies would reach down into her vast store of arboreal knowledge and declare with utter certainty, "That's a Redwood tree, that is." Having had a dangerous brush with the pigeon lady, I wisely decided not to attempt to communicate with these paragons of age.
We were able to pass them after a time, and eventually it was time to return to our vehicle. (For the benefit of the Texans, you aren't supposed to pronounce the Ve part of that word as a separate word.) We headed toward the camp ground and felt like we may have gone too far. But as soon as we voiced this opinion, we saw a sign saying, "State park: 1500 feet." What's the point of that sign? The turnout for the park was so easy to see, you couldn't help but turn there. With this sign, it made me want to turn right there. Into someone's driveway. Odd. Anyway, when we got there, we broke out the gear, set up camp, and laid out a strategy for what we would do that day. ("You guys hungry?" "Yeah." "How about sandwiches?" "OK.") About this time, one of our group members made an unsettling discovery. Evidently in his haste to pack the vehicle, he forgot a rather small inconsequential thing. His duffel. The one with all his clothes/toiletries. Being only 45 minutes from our starting point, he opted to return and retrieve it. He also picked up a few other things we had left (Essentials like S' Mores materials) while he was there. When he returned, we tried to decide what to do with the rest of the day.
When it started getting dark, we decided to eat. My new camping motto is, "Don't get hungry when it's dark. Only get hungry when it's light!" We sent one of our group down to the ranger station to get some firewood (you aren't allowed to gather in state parks) and broke out the grub. We figured we'd light a fire and have a good old fashioned weenie roast. When the firewood arrived, we tried to chop it into smaller pieces for kindling. It was difficult to cut, but we were determined to have a camp fire! My new fire starting motto is, 'sticks that bend will not burn.'
A sane person at his point would have said, 'So, how'ze about more sandwiches?" By now it was totally dark and we were having to try to build/light the fire by flash light. We were getting really hungry. I busted out the gas lantern, and we kept at it. Eventually, filled with disgust, we turned to the great American fire starting kit. A can of white gas. Children, do NOT try this at home. The man lighting the fire was a trained scout leader. At first, he poured a small amount of gas on one of the smaller sticks, and placed it under the other sticks. While that stick burned well, it didn't catch to any other wood. So he upped the ante. A half cup of gas got mixed looks from the rest of the campers, but they believed that we knew what we were doing. So did we. Incidentally, "I thought I knew what I was doing" is the leading cause of emergency room visits in the United States.
I suggested tossing the match in from a safe distance, after all these were hurricane matches. The scout guy (the youth leader of our group) believed his reactions were fast enough to allow him to get out of the way in time. He was right. Barely. He lit the match and reached down into the pit. Before he even got close to the wood, a massive fireball erupted from the pit. Everyone who saw it believed he was toast (sorry, no pun intended), but he was quick enough to pull away from the pit without 3rd degree burns or a missing beard. In fact, the match was still lit in his hand. Then the fire went out again, leaving char marks where the gas had burned. It smoked quite a bit.
Eventually, I busted out the gas camp stove and a pot full of water, and we boiled the dogs. We ate, and then -You will notice we are not quick to be daunted. Or to learn.- we attacked the fire again. We were splitting more kindling when we heard the sound every camper fears. "The loud undisciplined child." He showed up fairly frequently after that, running out into the street in front of cars and yelling a lot. It was obvious he didn't get disciplined, as any time he was told 'no' by his parents, they would listen to him whine for almost 15 whole seconds before giving in to his demands.
It was also obvious he didn't get out much, as every few minutes he would say, "Look, mom! A bird!" Or a squirrel, tree, bug, spider, other camper, trash can, etc. That got old very nearly before it began. We checked the date on their windshield though, and took heart. They would be leaving on the morrow. Have you ever noticed it's hard to sleep when you are listening to a whiny kid and a crying baby? Oh yeah, I forgot to mention him. They also had an infant with them. At least the infant had a reason to yell.
I'd keep going, but I'm bored with this.