Slinging a smooth stone
Be careful for what you ask; it may come true.
The Boise City News
I went camping last weekend, for perhaps the first time in nearly 45 years.
I last slept in a tent as a Boy Scout, and though not the fault of then Scoutmaster Vernon Wilson, it was not a pleasant experience. I much preferred playing outside all day and then sleeping safe, dry and comfortably at home.
However, just over two years ago, while listing all the reasons my wife Linda should marry me; i.e. Federal retirement, Social Security, et. al., (She calls it my business proposition.) she made some remark about how I hadn't agreed to go camping with her. So...I agreed, assuming that such a foolish promise would soon be forgotten. No such luck, she recently reminded me of my long forgotten (in my dreams) promise; and being a man of my word, I began to look for a tent.
I found one I liked in Amarillo, (My apologies to Real Deals 4 U, I owe you some business) and bought it...then, I found that my lovely wife had been bluffing all along. It was her plan to rent a cabin, or a motel room.
‘Fraid not honey, I promised a camping trip; so a camping trip we were going to have.
On our first night, just outside of Colorado City, Colo. two novices learned how to set up a dome tent and attach a rain fly. It was very fortuitous I brought Linda along, for she, will read instructions, while I will not.
Within minutes of setting up the tent, clouds rolled over the Rockies and all the forest creatures were lining up two-by-two.
But Linda and I were snug in our tent, listening to the soothing pitter-patter of raindrops on the tent. We didn't however, hear the water running in the bottom of the Dutch door where I forgot to zip the bottom zipper. Let me tell you, at 4 a.m., when you consider going to the restroom and place your feet on the floor; this error is a real bathroom inspiration.
Our second two nights were at Yogi Bear's Camp Jellystone, near the Royal Gorge. Linda had found this area on line, and since we were going to meet our two-year-old grandson Cason and his parents Shane and Tara (Isn't it handy when your children live in the same place as the grandkids?)
The site we were first shown was at the back edge of the camp, it was primitive, small, and close to cactus and cliffs; Linda wasn't sure it was the place for a child.
I went to locate the ‘facilities” and read signs of how to coexist with bears in the wild. A few of the rules were:
H Store your food in the car trunk.
H Don't wear the clothes to bed in which you cooked the evening meal.
H Don't leave food out.
H Don't wear makeup or perfume. (I guess next year's Avon Convention won't be coming to Jellystone.)
H Most importantly if a bear rears up and smells your scent on the air you are to speak softly and back away; but if attacked fight viciously with what ever weapon you have, binoculars or penknife; yeah, that'll work.
In any case, after hearing this news, (The look on her face was priceless.) Linda went off looking for a safer site “for Cason.”
At any rate, soon after our tent was erected, the animals that hadn't drowned the night before were lined up again, two-by-two.
Two nights of hard rain were too much; the patter of rain on the roof was joined by the sound of drips in the tent. God had begun the Chinese water torture on my forehead; I had to maneuver for position. That isn't easy with four adults and a child.
But, the beautiful outdoors, good food over a campfire, and being able to see my son and his family were all worth whatever discomfort we had. I'm ready for more.
The word for the week is endowed.
Boise City News, P.O. Box 278