rabid raccoons, poison oak bumper crop, and other fine campfire stories
September 17th, 2008
This past weekend, while Ike beat up Texas, we were roughing it at Samuel P Taylor park. The more camping we do with kiddies, the more relaxed our definition of “camping” becomes. Earlier this year, deciding we couldn’t handle the dirt in Housekeeping, we spent a weekend “roughing it” on some of the more comfortable beds I’ve slept on in my adult years at the Yosemite Lodge. In keeping with that theme of deprivation, hostile wilderness retreats, bare-bones living – we started this past weekend’s trip with burritos from Grillies in Fairfax which we washed down with Trader Joe’s supplied Swiss chocolate + designer marshmallow + organic graham cracker smores cooked to gooieness over a crackling Duraflame log. Oh, roughing it.
After smearing marshmallows and chocolate drippings all over the campsite, we retreated into the tent to sleep. No sooner had we zipped the tent shut than a gang of raccoons came rustling through – digging in our pantry box, rummaging through our cooler. There were at least 6 the size of Sylvie. These suckers were bold. When I stuck my head out to hiss, bark, yell, and clap at them, they gave me that confused teenager look – almost embarrassed for me – and carried on about their looting. Doug was able to run them off with a few flashes of the light and a barked “Get outta here.” After re-securing the site, we were back in the tent ready for slumber. They descended from the woods, again. We went through this cycle a few more times before we reached the optimal balance of food secured in the car and at the site. The final solution involved the camp stove turned on end and ratcheted to the doors of the pantry, and the picnic table perched on top of the cooler lid. Why didn’t we just put all the food in the car once we realized they’d be so relentless? Just try to argue with a Diego…
In the morning, the sun rose over camp revealing a sea of poison oak surrounding our site. It was within 1 foot of our car, our tent, our path to the bathroom… Refreshed from our adventurous night, we took a deep breath, calmly coached the kids to stay out of the woods at all cost, and sat down to finish our coffee. You’d think I haven’t been a mom for 4 years! Sure enough by noon, we were exhausted from the deadly wood avoidance. We’d caught the kids by the nape of their necks skipping towards, in mid air flying into, and mili seconds from sliding right through it. Common sense sunk in, and we packed up and headed home.
We spent 2 hours scrubbing bodies and clothes with Technu, and another 4 loads of laundry driving the poison from our camping gear. 4 days later, we’re thankfully still itch free.
The eyes? I don’t know…
Mom – the sweater came clean of camp dirt, too.
September 19th, 2008 at 6:54 am
Thank the Lord for the cold front! Although we were blessed with little damage, Hurricane Ike left us without power for five days. It was hard not to think that sleeping in a tent and cooking over a log fire wasn’t in some way a prep course for adversity. (True…its not quite as gritty when you still have a hot shower, a gas range, and friends bringing you ice for your cooler.)
I loved camping as a child, as did Little Momma. If her preference for a comfy bed and a hot shower at bedtime need to blamed on someone, I take full credit…sleeping on the ground with no-telling-what crawling into your tent isn’t my idea of a good night. (I’m told nothing without ear plugs is going to enter my tent while I’m sleeping.) Camping, as with team sports, and other activities we grow up doing, helps to broaden horizons and make us more durable. Fire tempering, perhaps. Poison oak and racoons are a part of nature that children need to respect and your camping, even abandoned early, is essential to well rounded growth. Living without electricity, even for just a few days, must have been easier for us for the days spent in a tent.