Camping Season

The glorious time of year when people pitch tents and sleep on the earth is upon us again. I am feeling nostaglic;
I have chosen to share some 'camping memories' with all ya'll!

1) I shimmied up a pine tree (one where the needles don't start till a fuckers jump up there) and I made my way about 12 feet from the ground. At the time is seemed much higher. I looked down when someone posed the question of how you'd get the drunk guy out of the tree should the need arise. I remember glancing down and thinking how far my friends looked from me.....And then falling. It kinda slowed there, like I was crashing to my death only instead of my life flashing before my eyes the world just kind of, slowed down. It was peaceful, maybe even kind of fun. When I landed the upper portion of my back was square on a wooden stool that Beth's dead grandfather had made for her. The same stool that "No one could touch, it was a symbol more than a stool". I heard the wood cracking as more of my weight was forced onto it. Sort of like dropping chop sticks at first, but then went on to full on "TIMBER" wood cracking in half sound. The lower portion of my body hit first, but surprisingly, the wood Gramps had chosen was soft, pliable even, and the top half of my body was only milliseconds to follow. I laid there at first, wondering if the throbbing pain between my shoulders would subside. I had no idea that I had landed on grandpa's stool, at that point it could have been one of my friends. Still, the tormenting pain in my upper back fought off all concern for what I had crushed/killed. Beth didn't even scream. For grandpa's stool I mean. It was pretty quiet, I could still hear the fire beside me crackling, I knew I wasn't deaf. Then (and I'm not sure what came first) I felt a wild slapping motion on the top of my head, and in my ears rang the words....'His hair's on fire'. That is a moment I will never forget. Not that I valued my hair like Michael Jackson, but I still wanted to be pretty at the end of my weekend getaway. The flames were squashed out before any of the heat had burned me. I had simply gotten a very fast brush cut on one part of my head. What happened? Well, the citronella candle that my head hit had thrown wax all over the folks who were too close by. Alex, I'm still sorry about yer new jean jacket. And the candle had tipped, my head just inside, but, instead of the wick going out, it raged on in the way candles do when you drain the wax from them. My best friend had apparently first said "Is his hair on fire" because she thought she smelled that funky roasted smell. Then pulled the candle away to see that yes in fact, my brown locks were smoldering, and proceeded to administer the appropriate thwacks that would save me from hanging out with 'David' fulltime. As awkward as it seems to use this as a fav memory, it's like it happened to someone else, I relive it like a movie where the main characters face is much different than the person who the story is based on. Really funny. Imagine of you were there, you'd still laugh at me for it. Oh, and Beth, total accident, sincere apologies.

2) ELORA GORGE For anyone who doesn't know Elora Gorge is a gorge in Elora, Ontario. Nuff with the geography lesson. So, obviously, there is a river that flows between two walls of southern ontarios version of a canyon. This campground is based on the idea that people wanna camp, and ride an inner-tube down a lazy river. Only, sadly, the river isn't that lazy, and for years there were tubing casualties. Now, it is strictly governed, one person per tube, and a life jacket and helmut on all riders. When we 'tubed' the park 'forbid' anyone in the gorge, but there was never any security and the fine folks at the front gate simply looked the other way when EVERY CAR drove in with four inner-tubes tied by the trunk. We didn't think that far ahead. We showed up with no tubes. Thankfully the farmer across the street sold them by the highway in all shapes and sizes. We were a group of about 9 tubing virgins. And when the nine virgins saw that each small tube cost 20 dollars we lost faith in the idea of 'gettin a ride in the gorge'. Then, like a massive rotten donut one of us spotted a huge answer to our problem sitting near the back of a pile of smaller tubes. This fucking inner-tube was so big it must have come off of the worlds largest tractor. At a mere 50 Canadian dollars, it was a steal. There was no way to tie it to the trunk of the car as the car fit in the radius of the tube, so we threw our arms in the air and carried it back to camp as if it were the coolest crowd surfer of all time.
Some of us threw on bathing suits or old shorts and made our way to the gorge. The water was a ways down, but we hiked until a feasible path down showed itself. The water was about 2 feet deep when we dropped the tube. The nine or so of us got balanced, all feet into the center of the tube and took our feet off of the river bed. The tube instantly started to turn, forcing the heaviest portion to the front and down as the 'gentle' current carried us downstream. Soon we didn't have to hold our legs up to avoid the bottom of the river, the water darkened and we could relax our lower appendages into the deepening water. The spin on the tube seemed to pick up and switch directions. I can remember my body actually jerking to one side when the current switched. I thought that it was strong, and wondered what would have happened if someone had fallen in. I didn't have to wait long.
My good friend Deanna slipped off the tube as if it were coated in vaseline. She didn't even make a noise, I think it's because it happened so fast. Like the water somehow got a grip on her feet, and pulled her in. Yanked her in, fast like and as if it were serious. We all looked into the dark water, white foam spun around and held us there, just turning in a circle. Someone yelled about Deanna. Then, she started to surface. I remember seeing her kind of brown and gritty as if she were in an old movie, and then start to get dark again. I knew she was going back down, so I stuck my hand into the water and grabbed anything I could. That turned out to be her hair, and I reefed her out of the water by that. She came back onto the tube, visibly shaken, but not willing to give up. About an hour later the inner tube came to a stop at a concrete bridge where the water flows below the surface, and let's riders know the finish line is there. At this point our massive tube held only my best friend Karen and I, everyone else had fallen along the way. The tally; Deanna almost drowned, a guy lost the ring his grandfather had given him, someone was taken to the hospital for stitches, and all tubing clothes were covered in mud, sand and blood. The part that makes it a favourite camping memory. We were young and invincible. After all that had happened not once did Karen and I ever think of taking the tube out of the water and walking back to camp. It was all about making it to the end.

3) Having sex with my highschool girlfriend during the day. Her head was hitting the top of the small dome tent and sending a rippling effect from the top of the tent to the ground. I'm not sure how long it lasted (I don't like to brag) but when it was over and we were relaxing in the afterglo, we could hear families laughing. People pointing and saying 'that tent right there, people were just having sex, the whole tent was moving'. And long laughs from the people who had watched. We hid in there for another long while, maybe even napped for fear of unzipping the tent and showing the audience who'd put on the show.

these are just a few from a list that is too long to write. But, thank you camping gods for giving us another season to 'PITCH TENT'.