I Am a Camper: Day 1

I recently had the great opportunity to spend some time with my mom and some of her family. My mom and her husband Dean and I drove from their home in Olympia, WA for ten long hours to a tiny place in Northern California called Happy Camp. This region in California is an area that was part of "gold country" over 150 years ago, and is one of my folks' favorite places to go "prospecting" for gold and camp. Prospecting is their favorite thing to do (not mine, as it turned out,but that's okay), so I was looking forward to sharing this experience with them, getting to be out in nature, and away from the normal day-to-day routine.

Now, the name of the truck we drove down in is Doggie. And the name of the camping trailer that was attached to the truck is Gracie. I'm not sure why these things have these names, or why I needed to share this information, except so that it is understood that when I henceforth refer to Gracie, it will be understood that Gracie is not an actual person, but a camping trailer. Yeah, my folks are kind of weird like that; they name all kinds of inanimate objects for who-knows-what reason. But, I digress.

We arrived at our little spot in the woods late in the afternoon, and unfortunately for me, Mother Nature was immediately calling. There is a toilet in Gracie, but it had hitherto never been used by my folks; they generally set-up their own little outdoor outhouse whenever they camp and use it (well, my mom uses it; Dean just uses nature). However, since we had just arrived, there were no "facilities" available anywhere, and I had to go. Dean handed me a shovel and a roll of toilet paper, and sent me on my way.

Right.

I can do this.

I marched away from the campsite, far enough to not be seen or heard, and looked carefully around me. Several times. I think I was afraid there might be some random woodland creatures secretly watching me, and I was feeling modest. Anyways, I dug a hole, finished my business, covered up my business, and felt like a new woman afterwards. Aside from the physical relief, of course, I felt like I had really come into my own as a camper. I was hardcore now; like a bear, I pooped in the woods. How cool is that?!?!

I strode back to camp with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I was a real camper now. Boo-yeah!

Since my Mom and Dean have done this so many times before, they've established a bit of a routine for how they set up camp. I was trying to be helpful, but I felt like I was getting in the way more than anything. I pestered someone to please give me a task, and was told to inflate my air mattress. The grown-ups were sleeping in the bed in Gracie, and I opted for sleeping in a little 2-man tent nearby, so we could all have a little space and privacy. But, I would have the luxury of a queen size air mattress to put my sleeping bag on, and I was excited about that. The little air compressor had a car adaptor, so it was easy to pump up my mattress and fast.

Check. Solo task one completed.

Dean had me gather firewood, but other than that, I didn't do much at all that first day. It cooled down a lot that night, and the weather forecast was predicting rain. I wasn't concerned. There was a rain fly covering my tent, plus a tarp stretched out a couple of feet above that and tied to nearby trees, so I knew I would be protected from the rain. Besides, I was coming from Texas, which was many months into an extreme drought, and I actually was looking forward to being wet and cold. I honestly couldn't remember what either of those things felt like, it had been so long.

One should always be careful what one wishes for.

Bedtime for the folks is pretty early out in nature. Although they have a campfire in the evenings, they put the fire out and go to bed probably within an hour after the sun goes down. So, it wasn't even eight o'clock and I found myself in my tent, getting ready to go to sleep.

The mattress seemed a little softer than it ought to have been, but I didn't worry about it too much. I snuggled down, read my book for a bit by lantern light, and tried to go to sleep.

It was kind of cold, I noticed. But, I liked it. Feeling cold was wonderful. I simply added another layer of clothing to what I already had on (my long johns) and knew it would warm me up. And it did.

For about five minutes.

I was thinking, wow: this is so awesome! I love that it's cold! I turned on my flashlight and dug out another jacket and zipped it all the way up, then hunkered back down under the sleeping bag.

This went on for a while. 'Bout an hour later, I was also wearing insulated winter socks, slippers over that, a knitted stocking cap pulled down over my ears, gloves, and was all wrapped up in two layers of sleeping bags. The only skin visible on my body was between my eyebrows and my nose; everything else was covered in blankets or other body-warming devices. I smiled to myself; I wish I could have taken a picture, because I'm pretty sure I looked completely ridiculous.

As is normal for me, I don't usually sleep too well the first night away from home. I was finally warm, except for my bum cheeks, and I still haven't figured that one out. How could everything else on my body be cozy and warm, but my bum be frozen? If someone can explain this phenomenon to me, I would be grateful.

I curled onto my side and realized that my mattress had less air in it than I originally thought. Oh brother. For some strange reason, I had three pillows in the tent with me, and I finally discovered why: two of those pillows had to go underneath my body to cushion me from the cool, damp earth, since I had epically failed my one and only solo task of blowing up my air mattress properly. I was grateful for three pillows right then.

Sleep continued to evade me. I was awake so long that I started thinking about having to go potty. I found it ironic; earlier that day, on our drive down, we made many potty stops along the way. I bragged that I had, for some strange reason, been blessed with a very strong bladder, which is unusual particularly for someone who has birthed four children. So, I was lying there in the tent, bundled up like a triple layer burrito, smiling at the situation.

It began to rain.

I love the sound of rain. It's fantastic to listen to, particularly when you are out in nature. It was a steady drizzle and I loved to hear it.

I'm lying there, starting to wiggle my feet, feeling that urge to go potty, but knowing I am just making a mountain out of a molehill out of the situation. I tried to think of something different, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

I awakened in the dark, hearing the steady rain coming down, to the sound of some strange bug I've never heard before. It made a really high pitched noise, not really like a cricket or a cicada, but sort of like them. It reminded me a little bit of a zipper opening and closing really fast. And it was right behind my head. And loud! Crazy freaking bug! I was bummed, because I had fallen asleep. But, I refused to get upset; I reminded myself that I was camping out in nature and to be grateful. So, I just listened to the bug. For a while. Until I couldn't take it any more. I found my flashlight, turned it on, and looked for the little pest. I wasn't sure if it was in my tent, or just outside of it. I ended up not locating it, so I just beat on the back of my tent and told it to shoo! Miraculously, that worked! It finally stopped all the racquet.

I immediately got back under my two sleeping bags; it felt like it had gotten colder. I took a deep breath, and realized again that my bladder was filling up more. Aw crap! It was so cold out now. And raining! I really didn't want to go out in it. I would freeze my little naked butt off, after stripping off the sixteen layers of warmth I had covering it. I could have walked across the campsite to use the toilet in Gracie, but I really didn't want to wake up my Mom and Dean if they were asleep. I figured it had to be getting close to sunrise at this point; it felt like I had been in the tent forever.

My ironic "strong bladder" comment felt like a little demon, jumping up and down on my lower abdomen in glee.

And then, I hear a rush of water hitting the ground right outside my tent. You know, kind of like the sound of when you go potty in the toilet? The tarp over my tent was releasing some of its water load, so it could refill and repeat. I couldn't believe it; just what I needed. A few minutes later, I heard the rush of water again. Great. Just fantastic.

With trepidation, I pulled off my gloves and pushed the little button to light up the face of my watch, mentally willing it to say sometime after 6:00 a.m. The clock ready 1:13 a.m.

I almost cried.

How can it possibly be only 1:13 a.m.? I have been out here in the freaking cold rain, nearly wetting the bed for at least ten hours now, haven't I?

I am never going to make it.

Whoosh; the rush of water off the tarp again.

Naturally, at that moment, I start to hear other sounds. I remembered a conversation from earlier in the day. I had asked Dean about bears. I had some concerns about having an encounter with a bear at night, since I was alone in the tent and my folks were tucked up tight in their trailer. Dean assured me repeatedly that we weren't going to see any bears, because there was nothing for them to eat in the area we camped. However, he couldn't help himself by adding that all I really needed to listen for was the sound of teeth chomping. And, he continued, if I felt a snout of prodding me through the tent, accompanied by the sounds of snuffling, that I might want to lie very still.

Ha ha ha.

Well, of course I started hearing snuffling! Right next to my tent!

I was thankful for my lamaze classes I took during my first pregnancy, because I needed to implement the deep-breath-in-through-the-nose, exhale-out-the-mouth thing to calm down.

Which, by default, put more of a squeeze on my bladder again.

And now we've come full circle. Fantastic.

Another whoosh of water comes off the tarp.

By some piece of magic or luck, I made it through the night without wetting myself. Albeit, I was in an adequate amount of pain from exercising my rocking bladder muscles so well all night. It was uncomfortably challenging to get myself out of the tent, make my way to the toilet in Gracie, and undress enough to use the facilities once daylight arrived. The relief once event began was, in a word, exquisite. I can't remember ever feeling so thankful for the ability to empty my bladder. I actually offered up a short prayer of gratitude to my Heavenly Father for it. I'm not kidding!

One day down, and only four more to go. I am a Camper.