The last time I went camping, other than one night on the beach three years ago, was five years ago when Bigs had just turned one. GNH, Bigs and I went with my dad and siblings to the place we'd frequented as children.
Ever since Joy moved in, we've been talking about going camping but hadn't gotten around to it for one reason or another, so finally, this summer, we said "We're doing it! We're going camping!"
I had been babysitting over the summer, so we had a one-week window between when my charge went back to school and when Joy started her classes, so we marked it on our calendars, contacted the campground for information, and made our plans.
Early Tuesday morning, we loaded up the van with gear and children, and headed for Sedona.
We arrived in the early afternoon and checked into the campground, securing a spot right in the middle of the outside loop.
The spot we chose was lovely and secluded. It was right next to another one, but since we were there and there was plenty of room elsewhere, no one took the spot right beside us. And we were about an equal distance from the entrance and the little convenience store on one side and the path to the creek and the swimming hole on the other. So while it was a delightful spot, it meant that if we wanted to go anywhere, we had to walk a fair bit.
Camping Observation #1:
Being directly between two points means that neither of them are convenient.Well, we set to work setting up the tent, and in short order we were hot and sweaty and ready for a break, so, after a quick lunch, we got everyone dressed in their swimming suits and headed for the creek.
Icy water in a shaded valley is a quick remedy for hot and sweatyness, and before long, everyone was ready to head back for camp. As the sun was already heading for the mountains in the west, I figured it had to be close to dinner time, and right after that it would be time for bed. A delightful prospect, as it had been a long day of driving, setting up camp, trekking through the wilderness and splashing in a creek. We returned to the van to discover that it was only about 3:30 in the afternoon.
Camping Observation #2:Time moves more slowly in the mountains than it does in the city.Despite the early hour, we decided to go about preparing for our evening. This began with a walk to the store attached to the check-in booth. There, we purchased water, firewood, and more ice for the cooler. First mistake: we didn't drive. Joy has an injured hand, so she is not allowed to carry anything in that hand, so she carried the gallon of water with the one and held Tiny's hand with the injured one while I lugged the bag of firewood and the bag of ice back to our campground. By the time we got back and got the fire started, it really was time to start making dinner. We roasted hotdogs for the kids and grilled steaks for ourselves, along with bell peppers and corn on the cob for everyone, followed by a delightful dessert of S'mores.
As twilight swallowed up the camp, the night noises came out. Crickets chirped in the bushes, filling the air with their sound. Normally, I can't stand crickets. They're my least favorite insect ever. I've actually considered buying a pet lizard or salamander or something just so I could feed it crickets. I despise them, and I really hate it when they invade my house, so much so that I pay my kids a nickel every time they kill one. But out here in the wild, they weren't so bad.
Camping Observation #3:Crickets sound different in the wilderness than they do in the city.As darkness fell, we put the kids in bed, and Joy and I sat outside talking and enjoying the brightness of the multitudes of stars. A few moments later, Littles emerged from the tent.
"I need to go potty."
I took our one flashlight and led him down the little hill and over to the outhouse. As we ascended the hill on our way back, a hiss stopped me in my tracks.
"STOP!!!!!!!! Don't move! Be quiet!!!!!"
At first I wasn't sure what was going on. I looked around for the rattlesnake I was sure was about to strike, my heart thudding against my chest. Joy quickly informed me of the danger.
In a loud, urgent whisper, she said, "There's a skunk under the table!"
I shined the flashlight beam in that direction, and sure enough, beady, glowing eyes attached to a black and white striped body stared back at me. I shined the light further, and directly under where Joy sat, two more skunks nosed in the dirt, foraging for food. I stood still, clutching Littles to my chest, as Joy sat atop the table, fearing to move and scare them.
Then, to our horror, the two under the table began fighting! Up on hind legs, front legs scrabbling and snouts gnawing at one another, they emitted angry screeches and growls.
Camping Observation #4:Skunks fighting is a terrifying sound.Certain that she was about to be sprayed, I suggested that Joy jump from the table and come toward us, then we could go around the long way to get back to the tent. It was either that or sit there in fear until the skunks decided to go away, so Joy went to the far end of the table from where the skunks squabbled and leapt from the table, hitting the ground running and dashing toward Littles and me with such force that she nearly knocked us over.
Naturally, we didn't want to stay outside much after that, so we cowered in the tent and fell asleep to the sounds of shuffling skunk feet and little skunk spats from various points across the campground.
Throughout the night, we were awakened. It was cold, and Littles' sleeping bag was inefficient to keep his tiny form warm. He woke up more than once needing to be cuddled. Also, he tends to have nightmares, or at the very least, vivid dreams that wake him up.
Tiny, too, appeared to be ineffectively snuggled, and eventually I brought her into bed with me so both of us could get some more sleep.
However, that was short-lived. Having gone to bed at 8:00 the night before--my children are NEVER in bed by 8--they were all three ready to wake up and enjoy the day as soon as the sky began to lighten. The sun hadn't even peeked over the eastern mountaintops when they were up and chattering away.
Camping Observation #5:Sharing a tent with three children is not conducive to getting a good night's sleep.That morning we decided to go for a hike. There was a trail that began directly across from the campground, so that's where we headed. I carried Tiny in a baby backpack, while Bigs and Littles marched in their little hiking boots. The map claimed that the trail was .7 miles and climbed up 700 feet. It also said the difficulty was "moderate."
Now, I walk .7 miles all the time. In fact, when Joy and I walk at home, we never go less that 2 miles. This hike, steeply switch-backing straight up 700 feet, was no .7 miles. And it was anything but moderate.
Camping Observation #6:When a hiking trail says "moderate difficulty," it's probably a lie.By the time we reached the top, every muscle in our bodies ached. Rivulets of perspiration flooded down from every pore in my body. Then, to top it off, at the top there were fewer trees, and the sun beat down, scorching my sweat-sheened skin.
Camping Observation #7:If you sweat enough, even the SPF 50 sunblock washes off.By the time we returned to the campsite it was well after noon and we were exhausted. We ate lunch and attempted to take a nap, but the inside of the tent was stuffy and sweltering, despite having all the windows open. So, instead, we headed once again for the swimming hole. The frigid water was a soothing balm to our sore muscles, and despite the brain-freeze it caused, we dunked completely into the shallow pool. We even made the kids dunk all the way in. Then I attempted to climb out, carrying Tiny, taking a large step up rather than going around the longer, less-steep way.
It didn't work. I slipped, falling backward and splashing again in the pool, knocking my leg against a series of rocks and completely terrifying Tiny.
Camping Observation #8:The shortest route isn't always the most efficient.The path to and from the swimming hole is lined with wild blackberry bushes. Most of them weren't ripe, but there were a few that were a nice dark color. We discovered quickly that the darker the color the better they tasted, but even the very darkest ones were still quite tart and not as delightful to eat as we'd expected.
Camping Observation #9:Wild blackberries don't taste the same as store-bought ones.That night, probably from the unusual exertion along with some dehydration, Joy and I both had headaches. Joy's turned into a full-blown migraine, and she went to bed as soon as we were done with dinner. I scurried about putting things away and getting the kids ready for bed and walking around the corner to the water pump to refill our supply.
Littles and Tiny had both decided that literally rolling in the dirt was a fun idea, so the kids needed to be taken down to the water pump to be rinsed off before being put in the tent, as well.
Between our campsite and the water pump were two other sites which were now occupied by a handful of loud, drunken miscreants. Darkness enfolded the valley while I was still trying to get things done, and with night came the skunks. I hurried along the roadway, back and forth, back and forth, with children and water jugs, hearing the skittering in the bushes to the side, along with the now-familiar sound of skunks bickering.
On my last water-pump run, with my arms full of bottles and jugs, my eyes were blinded by the beam of someone's flashlight and a slurred voice hollered out to me.
"Watch out for the skunk."
The light played on the back of a skunk who scurried into the weeds by the road. By this time, I'd realized that if you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone, so I wasn't too worried. Until another intoxicated camper picked up a rock and started swaggering toward where another skunk wandered down the road.
"I'm going to throw a rock at it and scare it away."
I decided against suggesting to him that angering the skunk probably wasn't the wisest idea, and instead hurried back to hide in my own tent.
For the next several hours, the trolls at the next campsites banged on rocks and made loud noises, presumably in an attempt to scare the skunks away, making Joy's head and my own throb even more painfully.
Camping Observation #10:Drunk people who throw rocks at skunks make bad neighbors.Fortnuately, none of the skunks sprayed, and we were finally able to drift in and out of reasonably solid sleep, to awake to our final day of camping.
We spent that morning packing up the tent and getting everything ready to go before heading over to the swimming hole for one last foray before heading home. Despite Bigs' and Littles' pleading to climb another mountain, Joy and I were not quite up for that again. But playing in the water seemed to appease them, and in the early afternoon we set out.
After stopping in Sedona to gas up the van and get lunch, we headed home where refreshing showers awaited us. And, after three days of living outside, sweating, trekking through the dirt, having the scent of skunk wafting through the air, using an outhouse, and splashing around in mossy, dead-fish-infested water, I realized without a doubt:
Camping Observation #11:Running Water is NOT overrated!
