Tuesday, August 19, 2008

    Laurel & Hardy Go Camping

    The husband and I FINALLY got to get away to the Sequoias for a camping trip last weekend, and based on what happened, you'd think we'd never set foot out of the big city before!

    It started out perfect and organized on Friday--the car was loaded down with all of our camping gear along with wine, beer, and the insanely good chili and spaghetti I had pre-made from scratch. The four hour drive was made bearable by a stop at Sonic outside of Bakersfield (LA transplants from the mid-west: I know you feel my pain) and a crazy good Mexican restaurant in the last town before the mountain, Springville.

    The campground was the best we've ever stayed in--only 10 spots so secluded in the giant redwoods next to the river that the neighbors could not be seen. Sequoia Trees! Ferns! Waterfalls! Paradise!!!!

    And then it begins...

    We begin to unpack. Rain flap for tent nowhere to be found. Dark clouds roll in. I tape a plastic table cloth over the top of the tent. Husband starts to get the blow up mattress ready. Power converter for cigarette lighter wrong voltage for mattress motor. It doesn't work. We start to gather firewood. ‘Where are the car keys’, I ask? ‘In my pocket’, he says. I lock the car and close the doors. Rain starts to fall. Tent starts to leak. Dirt turns to mud. We drag the tent under a tree for more protection. Tent still leaks. Maybe we should get in the car and wait out the rain? But keys aren't in husband's pocket--THEY ARE LOCKED IN THE CAR. There is no cell service and definitely no AAA up here. Rain starts to fall harder. We start to laugh. Hysterically. It's the only alternative to killing each other.

    I sit in the tent and duct tape trash bags together for more waterproofing. Husband runs through the rain to all of the other campsites to ask for a coat hanger, marshmallow wire, anything to jimmy the door open. No luck.

    We devise two plans:

    1. Bust the window with a rock

    2. Tear the antenna off the car to use as a tool to pop the lock

    Option 2 wins.

    4 hours, 100 curse words, 100 prayers, 6 beers, 1 bottle of wine, 1 kitchen knife, 1 bent car antenna and an insane amount of determination later: the husband pops the lock open. He ROCKS!

    And the rest of the camping trip was FABULOUS!

    Check out the way we squeezed the tent between those two trees!

    We decided we're going back in October between two of my wedding. Were taking more duct tape. And an extra key...

    1 comment:

    Sarah said...

    HA! That's hilarious!!