Long, long ago in a land far, far away, there lived a little girl who dreamed of living in the woods. The more primitive the environment, the better.
One day. this little girl got her wish. She joined the Camp Fire girls and was, eventually, whisked off into her dream world.
Sort of.
Adventure One
Marshmallows on sticks roasted over an open fire probably isn’t in the “primitive” category. Neither was the air mattress. But that was neither here nor there.
It was the thrill of sleeping out under the stars. No roof overhead. No rain clouds in sight.
Beautiful!
Dad gave a scary rendition of “Hairy Red Legs” which had all the girls squealing with delight and fright. He giggled to himself. The highlight of his night for being a chaperone!
Then both civilization and primitive living collided.
There they were. All the little girls snoring and dreaming deeply out on the lovely lawn under the tall tree and moonlit night.
Then both civilization and primitive living collided.
Suddenly…ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-STS-ST-SCREAMING-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-MORE SCREAMING-ST…
The automatic sprinkler system at the park turned on. Girls and sleeping bags began to fly everywhere. The chaperones were trying to gather girls, supplies, and whatever else they could to get them safely out of the watery deluge.
Fleeing to the outskirts of the lawn, the girl lay their dripping sleeping bags down and tried to go to sleep. This little adventure was one to share for years, and tainted no few of the little campers’ views on camping in the great outdoors.
Adventure Two
While the idea of camping under the stars might have it’s disadvantage when at a public park, it did not deter this little girl’s determination to continue to commune with nature. So when the family joined friends to camp out in the woods, she was eager for the new adventure!
She awoke in the night feeling like something was sharing her sleeping quarters.
While there were hot dogs and camp stoves, there still lingered the ever-favorite tradition of roasting (can we say, burning?) marshmallows on sticks, then grabbing a chocolate bar and two graham crackers, smashing the whole shebang together into a sugar-inducing coma treat just before bed.
And the scary story of “Hairy Red Legs”. (No. I am not going to retell it. It is much more effective in a dark room that has immediate access to a light to wash over the pale faces that ensue.)
Carefully laying out the sleeping bag – this time, without an air mattress, which usually was flat by morning anyway, the little girl laid down on the soft forest floor in her comfy snuggly.
Then, the primitive made its presence known.
She awoke in the night feeling like something was sharing her sleeping quarters. Her legs began to feel like there were tiny little bites on them. Grabbing a flashlight, she discovered that her carefully laid bedding was atop a very large mound of very disgruntled ants.
Aghast at the horror she had inadvertantly caused these little creatures, she did what every little girl does.
She cried. Loudly. Which got the attention of all the other formerly sleeping occupants. And her sleeping bag was carefully shaken out and laid in a more respectable spot.
Adventure Three
Did she learn?
No.
By the time adulthood hit, she was still determined to sleep outdoors. Only THIS time, she used a tent. And she dragged her two little ones to participate in her adventure.
By the time adulthood hit, she was still determined to sleep outdoors.
Which turned out to be a good thing. Because this time it rained.
Not a little. No no.
It rained BUCKETS! To the point that the floor of the tent was awash with water.
Did that deter her from camping?
Of course not!
The girls, however, were less than enamored with any future prospects of camping.
Last adventure
When moving cross country, this once little girl was thrilled with idea of camping in the great outdoors once more. Only this time, it was on OUR property with the extended family.
Yea!
Camp was set up in the woods. Seemed like a great place to be. Under the shelter of the trees, surrounded by an open patch of fairly level land that then sloped to the grassy area below.
Sweet!
Only none of the adults read the landscape.
Seemed like a great place to be…
Only none of the adults read the landscape.
The first day or two were nice. Early mornings with the wonderful sunrises, followed by breakfast on the grill. What could be better?
Maybe learning the landscape better. (Did I mention that already?)
The third night, a tornado threatening storm blew in. We watched in horror as our tents were torn apart and our carefully laid tarps leaked water all over our belongings.
We stood with our hands above our heads in the middle of the night trying to keep the rain from pooling in the remaining tarp bits that covered our formerly dry ground. Water began to rush down the hill, washing into the tents and soaking all the mattresses, clothing, and sleeping bags that were there.
There was a reason for the area to be free of shrubby brush. Now we knew why.
(Did I mention reading the landscape?)
The next morning we investigated our losses.
Very few mattresses survived. (They were set in the tents to keep them dry as we had no place to store them. So much for that!) The belongings we had were laid out across the fence lines that surrounded the property. And we retreated to a large metal shipping container that was used for storage on the property.
Any more camping anyone?
Did that deter her from camping again?
Let’s just put it this way.
Campers are beginning to be a lot more inviting for sure.
But maybe one more try…
Maybe.