Kai's husband enjoying their isolation in Cornucopia, OR |
Growing up, my family didn’t go camping. I never really
developed a taste for it. And yet, when this discussion thread posts, I’ll be
starting my tent camping summer vacation. We are visiting the Grand Canyon,
Zion and Bryce National Parks as well as any ‘largest ball of twine’ or other
sites we might stumble upon on the way. I’m willing to put up with some
sleepless nights in order to explore our astounding country.
I remember in sixth grade I went to summer camp with a
friend. We slept on cots, in platform tents. Really, not the worst situation
possible. However, being in the Midwest and next to a lake, we had to sleep
under mosquito netting. Just as I dropped off to sleep one night, I heard a
buzzing close to my ear. I slapped my hand over my ear and trapped the fly
inside. Smart move! I still flinch at a buzzing sound. A couple nights later I
was awoken by someone tickling my foot. Or rather, something. I awoke to
find the silhouette of a raccoon, standing on his back feet, trying to capture
my toes with his paws and mouth. Luckily the heavy canvas of the tent between
him and my tootsies made that darn near impossible.
The summer after my sophomore year of high school I went to
camp with a different friend and I fell madly in crush with a boy. Nothing
happened, but we remained friends for quite a while afterward. He and his
sister and his best friend even worked with me for a short time. So not all my
earliest camping experiences were horrible.
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