I never went camping when I was a kid, nor did I ever attend a summer camp. Oh now before you start feeling sorry for me, I had a great youth that included tons of just plain, old fashioned playtime. Hubby man, on the other hand, camped often in his youth. He even went ice fishing with a friend’s family and stayed in one of those little frozen huts like you see on PBS nature shows. So, when we got married, hubby man was determined to expose me to the delights of camping. My only criteria was that a) I wanted to sleep in an enclosure free of creatures that have more than 4 legs, and b) if I need to make a trek to the, um, facilities during the night, that he accompany me. Yeah, I'm a city girl, but I've come a long way since our first camping excursions. Over the years, we’ve had some great camping experiences, but it initially got off to a rough start.
So, I nudge him with a quiet, “Hon, get up, I’ve got to go”. No response. So, now I resort to shaking him, which gets me a muffled groan and a roll over. At this point, I’m fully awake and having acknowledged to myself that I needed to go, now I REALLY needed to GO. So, no more Mrs. Nice Wife. I just know that I'm going to become a midnight snack for a hungry bear. So I’m really persistent to which he grumbles the words he still regrets to this day. He says to me, “Can’t you just go by yourself?” I’ll let you imagine my response. It was as if thunder and lightning went off in my head. Ok, maybe that’s a bit heavy in the drama department, but I was a big chicken back then and it was pitch black in the campground. No moonlight to illuminate the area; no stars shining to guide me. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. You get the picture. The only light was the lone dim orb on the side of the bathroom building in the distance.
At that point, I was performing the “I really have to go” dance, so I bucked up to make the long trek to the facilities sans husband. You could just make out the building from our campsite, and the traitor, I mean hubby, promised to watch me the entire time. Yeah, thanks, babe. Way to be there for me. You can expect the silent treatment for a looong time. So, off I go, with my high beam flash light. Every little noise caused me to swing the flashlight this way and that, up and down, side to side. When I get to the building, there was another bear warning sign on the door advising caution that the bears have been known to get in the building, but were unable to exit. So I slam open the door, do a quick bear check (yeah, like I would have known what to do if one was in there), take care of business in record time, and psych myself up for the trek back to the relative safety of our tent. So with a deep breath off I go, trotting on my toes as fast as I can, with my trusty flashlight that is shining up trees and into bushes here and there, trusting that it can also double as a club if I need it to. When I get back, out of breath, and shaky from my exertion, what does the love of my life say to me? Does he ask if I’m ok? Did he ask if I saw anything suspicious? Noooooo. He looks at me and at my flashlight and says, and I quote, “Thanks for the laser light show.” With those words, he promptly lays back down and is asleep in seconds, leaving me standing there blinking like an owl. So much for my silent treatment!
Believe it or not, about 30 minutes later, everyone in the camp ground was woken up by someone hollering “Bear!” It turns out there were two juvenile male brown bears in the camp that night, one of which was caught and relocated; the other was captured a few days later and also relocated. Those juveniles were hungry and rummaged through cars and coolers, but didn’t hurt anyone. Of course, hubby man felt so bad afterward for not chaperoning me, and he turned on the charm for the rest of the trip. Still, having a bear in our camp is something that we'll always remember. And, for what it’s worth, I don’t blame the bears at all. To this day, though, I still refer to nighttime calls of nature as being "laser light show" time. Now a days, though, it’s more likely that a child has to go!
Camping this weekend was fancy as far as camping goes. So much so that I hesitate to even call it camping. TheDoesn't my girl look right at home in the woods? She's wearing her favorite "Stop Global Warming" t-shirt. Her current goal is to become a scientist and figure out eco friendly, plentiful alternative energy/fuel sources. She'll do it, too. She's a smart nature girl. You go girl! She's like her daddy ... loves the wilderness and could spend weeks at a time communing with nature.
9 comments:
Great post, Paula. I brought back a lot of memories of our camping (tent) trips in Northern California. We always seemed to get warnings about bears where ever we camped.
I just realized I didn't wish you Happy Anniversary. I hope you both have a great day.
Congratulations! 25 years is no small thing. I know, I remember, and, yes, I was a baby when I got married too. Lol!
I guess you never convinced Mr. Paula that roughing it is a hotel without room service...my parents had a tent when I was a kid. Can't say I'm sorry to have seen the last of it.
12 kids & 10 adults? Piece of cake!
Happy anniversary to both of you! And many more!
Wow, I love that cabin where is it at, I would love to rent it! My hubsters and I celebrate our 25th next year, good for you, we dont see many folks married as long as us!
Great story! And Happy Anniversary!
Happy anniversary, 25 years is no small feat especially when he makes you face down bears on your own in the middle of the night:)
The first thing to learn about camping other than that done in a building is to have a porta pottie to avoid those walks in the middle of the night. One of the best Christmas presents I ever got. It started out in our tent and moved on to a Coleman pop-up and now one of its taller relatives lives in our Aliner.
Congrats on the 25th!
I am reading about the "laser light show" at 6:13 AM and LMAO!! I am sure the hubby is wondering what in the world I am doing in here.
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