Campfire Stories
“Remember When’s” chats around the campfire
Floating Sandals
We had some great times that summer. Too numerous to recall. But, there was one adventure I remember in detailed technicolor.
Floating Sandals
We had some great times that summer. Too numerous to recall. But, there was one adventure I remember in detailed technicolor.
That night I set new criteria for future tent selection. Tie-down flaps on the outside of a tent are totally useless in a real thunderstorm, and the best kind of tent floor is the vinyl kind that extends about 6 inches up the sides.
One night we had a thunderstorm that literally flooded us out. Shannon woke up in the night to find her dome tent had turned into a floating ark. With this tub-type for floor, the tent will actually lift up and float in a flash flood. She climbed out, and down, into knee-deep water and waded over to my tent see how I was faring.
Since I’d already had to evacuate earlier, so she found me trying to sleep in the back of my station wagon. Now, trying to sleep with already damp clothing, in an airtight station wagon with 5 to 6 hungry mosquitoes, is unpleasant to say the least. You can’t open the window even if it isn’t still raining, because the rest of the clan is waiting to lunch on you.
After tossing and turning and swatting and trying to sleep for what seemed like hours, I somewhat welcomed the diversion of a face in the window. So a midst the pouring rain, we relocated little Michael, and what was left dry of their bedding, to their van. Amid all this chaos, we were laughing at our predicament and trying to decide which of us looked the funniest.
Charley was missing a sandal, (and those were her the only shoes she had brought) so we were giddily slushing around in the rain, searching for that. There were many other belongings gather as they floated by. The wind/rain combination had completely cleared the picnic table and scattered provisions and equipment everywhere causing a surreal scene in the semi-darkness.
A slice of soggy bread clung to the side of a paper box as it zigzagged on. There were plates, pots, candles, and many other items; some floating, others not. But through all this we were laughing at our new predicament and trying to decide which of us looked the funniest: Shannon in her pink nightshirt and red knee-highs socks or me in my knee-length striped pajama top, yellow duck boots and matching poncho.
Not surprisingly, the morning brought forth an innocent new sunny day with no traces of the night’s chaos. Slowly, from make-shift sleeping quarters, emerged four groggy faces to take in the disaster scene. The flash flood had receded and we were able to dry out our stuff. A friendly neighbor returned charley’s sandal to her. It had floated over the road and into their campsite.
Our rope clothesline had snapped; the towels and beach blankets were all muddied and plastered against the ground. A roll of paper toweling had somehow gotten unraveled and was soggily wrapped around the picnic table’s legs. It was a day to be spent drying stuff out.
These are the cherished memories that the camping/glamping give us. The times that go too smoothly, are often soon forgotten. The times your persevered, and came out laughing. Well you never forget those…
Aspire to the lifestyle you really want.