Camping
So somehow I made it through yet another year, and to celebrate some friends and I went camping up in the national park. Adam got out there Friday morning, and I joined him Friday afternoon, and the two of us held down the fort until Friday evening when the bulk of the merry-makers showed up. Everybody managed to get their tents up before the rains came, which was lucky, because holy ding-dongs did it rain hard Friday night. It rained so hard that we had to stop drinking around the fire and go drink under tarps instead! That's pretty hard rain if you ask me.
Saturday morning I awoke to two unpleasant realities: first, that my old tent leaks like a sonofabitch, and second, my shoes were missing. There wasn't much I could do about the lake in my tent, at least not while it was still raining, but I figured I should at least go have a look for my shoes. Sure enough, I found them in the underbrush about 30 feet away from where I'd left them, sopping wet but otherwise unharmed. I suppose it's possible that one of my friends though it would be funny to chuck my shoes into the bushes, but I don't want to believe that any of my friends would do something like that to me, so I think it was probably a fox.
Another round of party guests arrived around lunchtime on Saturday, shortly before the rain finally broke, and with the campground no longer filling with water, we decided to fill it up with other things instead. There was food and drink and music and stories and laughs, and if you don't think that's just about the best dang way you can celebrate a birthday, then you and I have very different opinions on the subject of birthdays, and your opinions are wrong.
Saturday night was spent around the fire, shooting the shit and passing the bottle around and just generally having a both a hoot AND a holler. Sunday morning most of the guests had to back up and head home, but a few of my friends had arranged to stay a couple extra days, and I figured what the hell, I'm not doing anything, I might as well stay too, so I did! Sunday was nice and relaxing, and my mom and my Omi showed up in the afternoon with a bottle of Kraken and a birthday cake, which was pretty much the best. I cooked them supper and then we all had cake, and then Sunday night was spent around the fire, listening to music and telling stupid jokes.
Monday? Monday was gorgeous, blue skies, sun, a bit of a breeze, just perfect. Those of us who were left went and hiked the Spruce River trail, which mostly consisted of going up some hills, and then down some hills, and then through some bogs, and then up and down some more hills. It was better than I'm making it sound. After the hike we walked down to the little park by the marina and played some frisbee and chucked a football around, and then back to camp to cook supper and do some more fire-sittin'.
I know it sounds like we didn't do much with our four days in the woods, and I guess maybe we didn't, but that's kind of the whole point of going camping; beginning by getting a fire going and ending at doing the dishes, breakfast might take you two hours start-to-finish, but so what? It's not like you have anything else you gotta go do, except maybe chop enough wood to get you through lunch. I already live life at a much less hectic pace than most people seem to, and I still appreciate the opportunity to get out of the city and slow things down a little.
Anyway, Tuesday rolled around and it was back to the reality of life in the city, but not before we stopped in Waskesiu for ice cream (we tried to go to Big Olaf but it was closed, so we had to settle for The Scoop). Back home, all that was left for me to do was return all the stuff that people forgot to take with them when they left, holy hell did you guys leave a bunch of your shit in the woods.
And so another year is in the books, at the risk of getting saccharine, I'd like to say "thank you" to all the people who came out and made the weekend so memorable, it was a genuine pleasure to celebrate my birthday with all of you. I have better friends than I deserve.
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