This past weekend was yet another fighting based event. A camping event, no less. Now, I have declined these pretty steadily every time they have come up but this time I decided to try it out.
I did not help with the putting up of the tent, John had another manly man (Donald, Kael, if you prefer) to help him with that. So while I can no longer say I have never been camping I can still say I never pitched a tent. (Cue adolescent laughter.)
Of all the delightful camping companions, Mister Rusty here was my favorite. Sweetest old dog you could ever imagine. That doesn’t come as much of a surprise though, because his owner is a totally awesome lady.
Not so delightful were these guys:
I only encountered a couple while I was eating in the picnic area but Tati and Rau were King and Queen of the spiders. Their tent was fairly overrun by 8-legged uninvited guests. Together they claim to have vanquished dozens of the tiny menaces.
Easing my way into the wild world of camping was Krystal. I didn’t take a thousand pictures of her this time so you’re just going to have to remember what she looks like. On Saturday we took a nature hike while everyone else was beating each other up with foam weapons.
The trail we were walking along was frequented by people on horses and that was made evident by the sheer amount of horse droppings. And, more pleasantly, by these:
We ran into a bit of trouble on the way back. Specifically, my lungs decided to quit functioning. The whole way there was downhill so of course the whole way back was uphill. I needed to stop quite a bit to keep being able to breathe. My asthma was not improved by sitting in front of a fire the night before. On the plus side, I got lots of great pictures while I recovered.
Ultimately what I learned from my very first camping trip is that I should probably never camp. But if I am going to camp, I should definitely do it in the Spring or the Summer when it isn’t quite so freaking cold.