I Love Camping….Psych!

First of all, sorry for the “psych!” I was just reading something about bad trends from the 90s, and while it talked about stuff like Jnco Jeans and tribal tattoos, I’m remembering all the really bad slang from that era.  Booyah!

Okay, so we went camping last weekend.  Actually, technically, it was a float trip, but there was camping involved.  And I’m fine with the floating part, but it’s the camping that I’m not quite as much in love with.  It totally bums me out too, because I like to think that I’m comfortable wherever I am – in the city, country, suburbs, the ghetto, the backwoods of Missouri – wherever.  But the truth is, I’m not.  I’m definitely not comfortable sleeping in a tent in the backwoods of Missouri (cue banjo music from Deliverance).  And if I’m going to be totally honest, I’m probably not super comfortable in the ghetto either.  Just saying.


We camped.  We canoed.  I survived.  Barely.

Rather than give y’all a run-through of the whole weekend, I’m just going to highlight a few adventures and happenings from the trip.

1. The Bathrooms

Unfortunately, this picture doesn’t really do the bathroom justice.  I couldn’t get a good angle for the photo, plus I was sort of scared to go in any farther.  What you can see, though, is the moldy shower curtain that served as a door on the stall.  Behind that moldy curtain was a teeny, tiny space with a toilet, an empty toilet paper roll, and a whole bunch of grody (90s slang alert!) bugs.  Oh, and these instructions:

The fact that they find it necessary to tell people to do something as basic as flush the toilet says a lot, I think. 

2.  The Accommodations

This really wasn’t that bad, as far as tents go.  Not that I’ve stayed in a lot of tents, but it was pretty comfortable.  There was plenty of space, and once I got past the heat and humidity inside the thing, not to mention the rank odor of 4 unshowered people, it wasn’t THAT bad.

3. The Food.

This was my second favorite part of the whole trip.  Why?  Because it involved s’mores and campfire pies.  Duh.

Here’s a s’more:

And here is Trent transcending reality and going to an otherworldly place where only chocolate and marshmallows and joy exist:

Oh s’mores….how I love you. 

My dad, who organized the whole trip, also introduced me to campfire pies.  I have no idea if this is what they’re actually called, but it fits.  You take two buttered pieces of bread, put them in the two halves of a pie iron (butter side out), sprinkle both pieces with cinnamon and sugar, top one slice with pie filling, then put them together and stick ’em in the fire.  And then magic happens.

Buttery and crunchy on the outside, and warm pie filling on the inside.  Oh mama.  By the end of the weekend, I think I put away a record number of s’mores and campfire pies.  I also cried when I got on the scale after we got back.

4. Ricky Danny

This is my dad, Dan.  After driving like a maniac throughout the Missouri hills this weekend, he’s now known around these parts as Ricky Danny.  Never in my life have I felt as car sick as I felt driving through the Ozarks with this man.  Even 3 pregnancies with weeks of nonstop nausea had nothing on this ride with Ricky Danny.

5. The Canoeing

This was….interesting.  There were some definite good parts, but there were some definite bad parts too.  Here’s some of the good stuff:

There was tons of natural beauty here.  People can make all the jokes they want about the Ozarks and the hillbillies that live there, but maybe they’re onto something.  When you look around and all you can see for miles are trees, mountains, caves, rivers, lakes, and about a million stars at night, it sort of makes all the ugly things in the world disappear.  It puts you in a state of bliss.

And then, while you’re riding peacefully in your canoe in that state of bliss, overcome with the beauty of the scenery, your husband suddenly steers you into an overturned tree at the edge of the river and your peaceful world comes crashing down because spiders fill your canoe, sending you into an absolute shrieking panic that nearly overturns the boat, and then said husband yells at you to “calm the f**k down!” and then you get pissed at being told to calm down when clearly the situation calls for mayhem, and becoming completely freaking unglued is the only logical response.  Whew. 

So that was the bad part of canoeing.

Obviously, I didn’t get any pictures of the spiders or of that particular moment because I was too busy screaming and trying to eviscerate the icky spiders with my oar.  Please accept my apologies.

6.  Going Home

My favorite part of the whole trip.


1 comment so far

  1. Jff on

    So, is that Ricky Dan single? I’d like to get me a man like that. I got a real nice trailer he can come visit…..just a lonely old campin lady lookin for some love.

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