Don’t tell Bone, but we went on our annual family camping trek this holiday weekend, and violated both of his camping guidelines so far: we took our house, and we got wet.
Yep. That a full sized gas grill and a guitar case strapped in with all of the other comforts of home. For what it’s worth, we used my Primus stove to cook bacon and eggs one morning (because the electric skillet was for the home fries), and I took along my Big Agnes bag and pad (although it was so warm each night I only used the liner). Everyone else slept on full sized inflatable mattresses with down comforters.
We had a great couple of days hiking, some biking, reading, eating, playing softball, volleyball, and all of the other campout sort of things. Here is the “bear cave”, which apparently is the real deal. Even though there is no current furry inhabitant, none of us wanted to risk climbing down for fear of snakes.
We were greeted by a shower Sunday morning, but things dried out quickly. Finally, the skies opened up that evening, and we found that the tent leaked over two of us, and the storm quickly collapsed our canopy where all of the cooking gear was.
With a short break between storms, we weighed our options and decided to bail. We packed up what was already soaked or what wouldn’t be harmed driving through the rain, got as much stuff out of the weather as possible, and drove home to warm showers and dry beds. Coming home on the turnpike, I ended up driving through one of the worst storms I can remember and was convinced we had made the right decision.
Monday morning we unloaded, washed and dried some things out, and then eventually returned to fully break camp. Everything is coated with mud, but we are able to recover and no regrets. We were having so much fun that it would have been a bummer to leave earlier, and it wasn’t a real big deal to drive back.
Distance: 5 miles 2011: 1169