Field Notes, Camping Part 2

We returned to camping after Heidi's party. (The goat is still a pet not a taco).

I love boat camping because it is so much like car camping. I am at a point in life where I have comfort needs that surpass my needs to have an authentic outdoor experience. What do I mean by that? I mean that I needed Vince to bring his power propane grill and tank in order to simplify my cooking. OK, I'll be honest, my coffee drinking. Vince needed his chainsaw in order to simplify his fire making. Because we were boating it over, this was no problem. (Please notice the Full Circle Farm boxes that I loaded with delicious food. The rain poured down on them and nothing inside got the least bit wet!)

We arrived back in Mallard Bay as the tide was descending. It was the last possible minute that we could have come in without being mud bound. We decided to pitch our tents in a more open area; a high bit of flat ground that looks to be surrounded by the occasional very high tide or winter storm. Our camp was lovely...one tent for little kids and me, one tent for Willie and Vince. In the kitchen area Vince created a bench/table for me. And that propane stove had water boiling in less than a minute.

These were lucky days; the sun shone each day and I found eagle feathers, but mostly they were lucky because Willie got out of working and was able to join us.

After setting up camp we took a low tide hike to the rocks that you can see in front of Falcom in this picture. We decided to call this rock group 'Marina Rocks' because she and I had been teasing about my taking her out there and making her the queen of that place when the tide came in and they nearly vanished. We decided it was a good thing I didn't take her out there to rule her land after all!

It was not long before the boys went swimming. It did not take Willie long to climb back out, but while he was in there, he loved it.

All around every beach were clam shells and muscle shells. Imagine if all of these shells had been ground to sand. What beautiful blue sand it would be! The kids made great art.

They made this around a large bear poo.

This marks our families camping spot. Willie and I thought that these initials, when pronounced sounded almost like a Yapese word.

Here is an ode to the Fairies.

There was a lot of relaxing.

There was a lot of hiking about (but dad didn't bring the camera).

Every evening we took our perch and watched the bears come out on neighboring beaches. It was like our own bear viewing camp made great by the distance we could watch them from and the ocean separating us. We saw the mom with her two cubs every evening (cute!). We also saw one fellow come down to the shoreline and roll around in the gravel. They all seemed to come down and then head over to the salmon run at Humpy Creek (which was opposite of our camp and made the experience that much better).

If you are at all squeamish to the realities of women, please read no further. I don't want to be the one to bust any fantasy bubble you might have.

Some loyal readers may remember in my last post about the problem I have with camping. How no matter what I do, I have to wake up in the night a pee. This is epic, because I wake up and then I spend what feels like an hour talking myself into climbing out of my sleeping bag to go out and go. Well...I made a promise to myself that I would not allow myself to lay awake at night trying to fall back asleep while knowing full well I had to get up and pee this time.

The first night I woke up and not only did I have to pee, but, it was pouring rain. The necessary self talk was even more difficult because I knew that getting up also meant making sure our things were covered and protected from the rain. 15 minutes later, I was out there but got chilled so quickly I decided to forget about covering our things and I jumped right back into the tent. Then I layed awake what felt like an hour wondering what was getting ruined out in the rain.

Then came the second night. All was going along as planned. As I promised myself, I jumped right up when the urge came. I got out of the tent and surveyed the camp. Everything was fine. I got back into my sleeping bag, and low! All the leg hair whiskers that were having their first opportunity to grow in 25 years were springing to life with a vengeance! The tightness of the sleeping bag just made me even more aware of my newly emerging leg hairs. It was agony! The few mosquito bites on my legs were not helping either. I thought to myself, "I'm getting to go through heroin withdrawals without the dope!"

After an hour of agony (and not sleeping) I decided to listen to the night world; the waves lapping on the distant shore, the wind blowing the sedge grass, something that I was sure was the waves or birds or something in the sand, the gentle rhythmic sound of Vince's snoring. I couldn't stand it anymore. The meditation was not working! I pulled out my cell phone to find out just how long I had been laying there in agony and when I did I heard a loud "HUMPH PH!!" and heavy footsteps running away.

I was officially awake. "Vince." I whispered, hoping not to wake the kids. "Vince." I got a little louder, no luck. After calling his name 8 times...no kidding... I shouted, "VINCE GREEAR WAKE UP!"

He was up like a rocket. He jumped out of the tent to see what was going on. Marina and Falcom were also awake. Marina rolled over to me and said, "It's OK mom, it was just me. I've been out on the beach picking muscle and clam shells. It's OK." Then she was quickly back asleep.

No, Vince did not see anything and he and I both laid awake another hour. Any amount of wildlife that we might have had around us would not be back, but that did not ease my mind. My mind did not relax until that next afternoon when we arrived back home and I ran upstairs (without so much as a proper hello to DeeJay) to hot water and a brand new razor.