Camping: I Survived

Camping is something that I half-heartedly threw on my goal list shortly after turning 25.  As a child, I used to go out with my dad and brother quite a bit, but I have almost zero recollection of this.  So deciding that I wanted to go camping, tent camping, before I turned 26 was a bit of a strange thought.  I don't even really know how it got into my head to be honest.

Fast forward to this last weekend.  The man friend and I camped in Hoyt Lakes with a few of his friends so that we could enjoy the small-town epicness of the Water Carnival.  The simplest explanation is that Mike and his friends go to play softball against a bunch of teams and drink.  Luckily, this was the year of the tagalong so I was invited along with another guy's wife.

Now Mike has gone the past three years, but this did not prepare him in the way of tent-owning.  If he hadn't shared that he'd been there previously, I would have chalked his lack of preparedness up to inexperience...instead I just got to chalk it up to being a single guy.

So I borrowed a tent from my manager, a camping chair from my assistant manager, ran to Target and bought all the things Mike said we didn't need because other people were sure to have them, and we packed up the truck and took off.

An hour into the journey, Mike realized he hadn't packed any towels.  Six hours into the trip, we quickly realized neither of us was skilled in the way of tent-setting-up (well, I took a more supervisory role to be completely honest).  But it all worked out.



The first day was overcast so while the boys went to play golf, the two wives and I ventured back about a half hour to the nearest Target to buy floaties for the lake.  We spent about a goosebumped hour in the water before the cold officially crept into our bones and sent us to shore to play the most intense game of Would You Rather.


The second day was beautiful.  The sun was shining.  The guys lost their first softball game, but won the second.  I used an entire bottle of sunscreen in a matter of 6 hours (I'm fair-skinned and not a gal who likes to be burnt).  We all swam.  I ate more brats than I have in the last year.  I almost got run over by a deer.  It was fantastic.


There was a bit of weather toward the end of our trip.  The quick hail storm and 60-some-mile-per-hour winds left me a little shaken in the tent, but I miraculously survived.  The last game the guys played ended up being in the rain, but luckily Mike let me sleep through that 9am loss so I was in a more-rested, good mood for our car ride home.


Overall, camping was a lot of fun, but I have no doubt that it would have been a massive mistake if we had not been with the group of people we were with.  One gal packed 15 towels, "just in case."  The one couple ended up putting together the tent we slept in.  It takes a village to raise a child, but only four other people to teach Sara and Mike how to camp.

*All crappy photos courtesy of my iPhone

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