Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Friday, September 27, 2002 Trash and I are sort of into camping. We’re not fanatics or anything—you won’t ever see us in one of those dorm-fridge-sized bubble tents dangling from the side of a mountain in the Yukon in January, and we’re not the type to strap everything to our backs and hike seven miles from the car—but we pretty much know what we’re doing. We’ve got this tent that’s so huge it has a guest room, and I’m able to pop it up like a safety button on a botle of Snapple. Trash can build a roaring campfire in three minutes with a magnifying glass and a pile of rocks. We keep all our stuff organized in these cunning little plastic bins, so we can potentially set up camp, make dinner, clean the dishes, and strike camp in the time it took you to read this sentence. We’re not hardcore, but we’re experienced. Over the years, we’ve camped at dozens of campgrounds in seven different states.
(Told you it was a big tent.)
But this has been kind of a weird summer, so Trash and I haven’t had a chance to go camping. We were going to one weekend last month, but I got sick so that wasn’t happening. Trash went to meet BuenaOnda at a campground in Wisconsin a couple of weeks ago, but my band was playing that weekend so I couldn’t go. And there was that morning I woke up in a Dumpster behind Dreamgirls, but I hadn’t planned that so I don’t think it counts.
We’re going camping this weekend. I’m pretty sure this is the latest in the year we’ve ever gone. We’re a bit apprehensive. In this part of the country, camping after the autumnal equinox can be an iffy business, and the weather forecast isn’t encouraging. But even if we end up spending the weekend shivering under a frigid gray drizzle and taking turns positioning our camp chairs directly over the fire, we do have a few things going for us:
We have these bulky, silvery sleeping bags that are thick and heavy enough to allow us to spend a comfortable night on Pluto. Wrestling them back into their rolled-up form is a bit like trying to store a jumbo marshmallow inside a cocktail straw, but the effort will help keep us warm.
So what if we get snow or freezing rain? After it stops, we can just strike the tent, spend the rest of the weekend in our new temporary igloo, and have a head start on packing the car when it’s time to go.
We probably won’t need to buy much ice for the coolers. We’ll just preserve our perishables by packing them in frozen beer bottles.
If all else fails, we have a backup plan. Trash tried to camp in April one year. That was when she discovered why God invented hotels.
So I’m a little curious to see what we’re made of. What kind of campers would we be if we only went when it was fun? The people who are really serious about camping are the ones who aren’t deterred by the prospect of a little suffering and misery. If we can’t hack this weekend, we can just forget about ever going pro.
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I actually wrote that yesterday, since I didn’t think I’d have time to do an entry today, what with us leaving early so we could spend a weekend chipping away at the layer of ice on our gritty camp coffee.
And…this just in:
We’re not going.
We were planning to meet friends of ours who live in Michigan, but they’ve just informed us that hurricane-force winds, monsoon rains, and an impending blizzard were all it took to dissuade them from spending the next two nights in a small nylon envelope. Wusses. One of these days, somebody’s going to be looking for people to join an Antarctic water polo expedition, and you know who they’re going to call?
Well, not us, I hope.
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Hey, Wil Wheaton! I know you’re reading, which is why I didn’t bother making a link out of your name so my page will show up on your referral logs. I don’t have to. Why? Because I know you’re already reading.
So hook a guy up with a link, would ya? I sat through that entire ST:TNG episode where you spent an hour mooning over the shapeshifter chick. Dude, you owe me for that shit. Link to me and we’ll call it even. posted by M. Giant 3:08 PM 0 comments