Camping: we survived!

I'll try to keep it short, but... it's ME, y'all.

We took off yesterday after a nice lunch out. I had asked some friends if they wanted to go camping with us, but they were "camped out." They did, however, recommend Sly Park. I had been there as a 6th grader, just like damn near every other Sacramentan (it's a thing), and I remembered enjoying myself, although I went in early Spring and there were still patches of snow on the ground. I had even mostly forgotten there was a lake.

It was easy to get to and took just over an hour. We were greeted at the gate by a very friendly young lady who gave us our parking pass and directed us to Jenkinson campground. I had chosen that one because it was the only one with tent camping only and no RVs. No offense to RVers (hey Dad), but I thought it might be just a little quieter and less crowded. Boy howdy, was it ever! It is no exaggeration to say that we were the ONLY ones in the entire campground. In the middle of the night, I seriously considered walking to the bathroom in my t-shirt and panties (you'll be relieved to know I thought better of it). Anyway, as we started the drive around the lake, I glimpsed it and almost yelled "No shit?!" It was the most beautiful water! I seriously could have driven into a tree in my shock: it was turquoise like the water in the Bahamas.


We set up camp (okay, I set up camp and periodically Zadie helped carry something lightweight and didn't get in the way too much) without too much trouble. Unfortunately, I've been having the worst luck with air compressors, and my third one didn't work. I had to blow up the air mattress, since I hadn't brought foam pads and I HECKA don't sleep on the ground anymore. I got everything where I wanted it, then we decided to hike to the lake. On the way, we stopped to see if the camp host was in, because I didn't know whether there were raccoons or anything, but he wasn't around.


And "hike" is what I thought it would be. I packed water, sunscreen, bug repellent, towels, a life jacket, and god knows what-all else. And as it turned out, we were about a two-minute walk to the water. Zadie only wanted to get her toes wet, but it was quite warm, so I waded a bit and dunked up to my shoulders. The water was cold, but it felt good. There were just about three other groups there, mostly small ones, although one was playing decidedly redneck country music and dragging people behind their boat in an inner tube.


We hung out there for a while, then went back to camp. I started a fire (even though it was still hot, I wanted to really give Z the camping experience, so I was cooking potatoes on the fire), turned on my new camp stove ($10.99 and AWESOME), and set to work heating up cheeseburgers (veggie, of course), potatoes, and beans. Kind of starch-tastic, but I hadn't really planned that well. While we waited for dinner, we played a little Candyland.


A word on camp stoves -- I haven't had one in years, partly because all the camping I did in the last two decades involved someone ELSE who had one or a campsite that didn't allow fires, but offered the use of a really decent kitchen. Also, the first instructions I ever had for using one were about twenty steps long, involved covering a hole with your thumb, pumping, locking into place, lighting a match, and hoping to god you didn't create a fireball that destroyed your whole family. So I'm a little edgy around camp stoves. But this one is the bomb (no pun intended): You plug in the butane canister, lock it down, and turn that shit to "on." From there, it works just like a gas stove.

Almost immediately after dinner, Zadie wanted marshmallows. My gut instinct was to tell her to wait a while, but then I realized... we were camping. There's no good reason not to do whatever the hell you want. And here, my friends, here is the greatest disaster of the trip. Zadie had asked for the new "jumbo" marshmallows at the store, and I caved. I toasted one carefully, oh ever so carefully, until it was a thing of beauty: golden brown on all surfaces. I placed it between two graham crackers with 4 1/2 squares of Hershey's chocolate (because that is just the right amount), and I held it all together to give the chocolate a chance to melt. I squeezed it, and... the hard, totally uncooked middle popped out the side. Because the jumbo marshmallow is too big to get soft in the middle! What a ripoff. LAME!


Then I also made popcorn, because what the hell, and Zadie's favorite part was when I took the lid off to look and a couple kernels popped into the air.


And I washed the dishes and we looked at the fire, and then Z wanted to go in the tent and read books, so we did, and then she wanted to go to sleep, so we did. It was about 8:20.

In the night, we woke up for a while -- she wanted to be in my sleeping bag with me, and I tried but was really uncomfortable, so I finally just let her have it and covered myself with the extra cold-weather flap. We woke at 7 (my first thought: Did I leave the lantern on? No, that's the sun, doofus), and I made coffee and oatmeal, and then we wandered down to the lake at another spot. We passed a couple rangers, but no other campers at all. It was serene, and even though it was early, it was starting to get warm. We headed back to camp to clean up the breakfast dishes and hang out in the tent for a while. There were freaky-looking bees buzzing up a storm and hovering right overhead, so I was kind of glad she suggested the tent. Then we packed everything up (okay, I packed everything up) and Zadie ate four snacks (because two servings of oatmeal apparently doesn't stick to her ribs).



(Just a note: I never use photography tricks in Photoshop because A: I don't know how and B: I don't even have photoshop. This is just how the sun was shining on her.)


We decided to take the hiking trail, which carried us
along the lake again, and Zadie did some climbing over rocks. I took a ton of pictures, but none of them captured the magic of just how capable she is looking these days. And finally we walked back to camp, where all that was to be done was to hop in the car and go. I knew she was tired, because she kept stopping to sit down, but she never once complained or asked to be carried. And for the record, she fought less about bedtime and was more chipper upon waking than I think I have ever seen her. I think camping agrees with her.




I decided to stop somewhere nearby for lunch, and after just a few minutes on the road I saw a billboard for In N Out, a very rare treat. I watched her in the rear view as she closed her eyes, opened them, let her head fall, jerked it up... I kind of hoped she'd stay awake until we got there, but she didn't. I pulled in, unstrapped her, heaved her up onto my shoulder, and ordered and paid, all with her sacked out in my arms. As we waited, I softly sang "Unchained Melody" into her hair, and I almost cried at how stupidly, stupidly beautiful my life is.