Besides working today, I went camping in Shenandoah National Park this weekend. Overall, it was 24 hours jam packed with fun. I met up with the crew (which was the WW group plus some) Friday night–they were already roasting smores around a campfire. People were pretty tired from either a traffic-filled drive or work, so we went to bed in our tents pretty early.
I was in the “party tent” with four others. Disappointed at the lack of stories being told either around the campfire or at bedtime, I decided to rectify the situation myself. For those of you that know my repertoire, I told “Brass Rat” and “Ping Pong Balls” to my fellow party-tenters. Then we were content to sleep.
The next morning we had yummy cinnamon bagels (w/ cream cheese and jelly) and instant oatmeal. This trip was starting to be very reminiscent of my days at Camp Wigwam, as that food was also standard breakfast fare in Waterford, ME. Next was an easy morning hike–nothing too stressful. Lunch included pie iron pizza. After a short naptime, it was time to hike again.
This time we aimed for a waterfall. Getting to our destination required a quick car drive; four young women piled into the Data-mobile where I introduced them to everyone’s favorite fire-mouthed feminist, Alix Olson. There were definitely some takers (I avoided the extreme political or sexual tracks–sticking with basic girl-power).
Back to the real goal: the waterfall. We overshot it by a half-mile, but after backtracking a bit, we found the ideal swimming spot, right at the foot of the waterfall. Ever since my spring break adventures in Yaxuna, Mexico watering holes don’t phase me, so I decided to try the water out first. I expected to walk into the water slowly, but the floor dropped off precipitously and all of a sudden I found myself floating downstream. Luckily I was never in any danger since the river became shallow again within a few meters.
The best part about the watering hole was that swimming upstream against the waterfall’s current was quite the challenge. The first two times I failed to reach the falls, but after visualizing the waterfall as the dastardly Red Team from Wigwam, I was successful.
Dinner was veggie burgers. For the nth time in my life I proved my incompetence at tending a fire. (As some Concord Deaniacs can attest to, I’m pretty bad at burning things.) But, with the help of ex-Girl Scouts, there was enough combustion to heat the Turkey burgers for the omnivores.
Night fell and although I demurred on a request to recite Miss Olson’s poetry to the crowd, given the campfire setting I couldn’t contain my appetite for story telling. This time I went with “Nate the snake,” “Damn doors,” and “Willoughby.” I think the non-party tenters, who thus hadn’t heard my previous stories, weren’t really prepared for the format of my stories. At least that’s my explanation for the (hmmmmm)….neutral…. reaction to “Nate the snake.”
Pics here.