Family Camping Trip: A Disaster in Three Parts

DISASTER ONE
Last year we borrowed my mother’s tent and took the family camping for a night, and Ruby loved it so much that she spent an entire year asking when we could go again.  Well, this summer we went again, and now that I have recovered from the trauma, I can finally discuss it.

It started out okay.  We borrowed the tent from my mother again, and then tried to pack the car.  Thank goodness my wife is good at Tetris, because we barely fit everything into the car.  We shoved things under the kids’ feet and the trunk was in danger of rupturing, but she got everything in there.  Of course all of this took a lot longer than we were planning on, but we still figured we had time to drive to the camp site and set everything up just before the daylight faded.

We got to the park at around 5 pm, which left us a little over two hours of daylight to set up the tent.  For a normal person this is probably plenty of time, but for Tenor Dads this is barely enough time to screw it all up, take it down, and try it again a few times.  Needless to say, we unpacked the whole of the car onto the provided picnic table and began to assemble the tent as fast as we could.

It took us about 45 minute of desperate trying to figure out that my mother had sent us same tent poles as last year, but a completely different tent, and the two did not go together at all.

DISASTER TWO
As it became clear to us that we now had no tent, we tried desperately to call my mother.  For help?  For complaining?  For angry shouting?  I’m not sure, but as we were out in the middle of the woods, we had absolutely no cell phone reception, and so calling my mother proved very difficult.  I did manage to get one bar of service by standing on the fireplace and sticking one of my legs way out, but when I managed to get my mother on the phone, the call was further complicated, not only by my lack of service, but by the fact that she was on her anniversary getaway weekend and was standing in the middle of a crowded Saratoga racetrack.

Texting proved to be the way to go, communication-wise, and she seemed quite remorseful about the whole incident.  She told me to drive to K-Mart, half an hour away, and buy a new tent which she would pay me back for later, as she had been meaning to buy that tent anyway.  Also she had just won $800 betting on horses and was therefore happy to help us out.  We did this thing that she asked, buying a huge-mongous tent called “The Lodge,” and when we arrived back at the campsite it was 8 pm and pitch black.  And did I mention that my wife’s friend was supposed to be camping with us too, and Simone was supposed to pick her up at the train station at this time?  After helping me get the tent stuff out of the bag and somewhat in the proper spots, Simone drove off with the car and its beautiful headlights, leaving me to finish putting the tent together in the dark with two young and tired children.

DISASTER THREE
Let me tell you a little bit about “The Lodge.”  The Lodge sleeps 16 people.  It has two closets.  It comes with hanging shelves.  It is at least twice as big as my bedroom.  And somehow I managed to get it all staked in and set up by around 9:30.  I had forgotten to bring a flashlight, and I had also forgotten a hammer, or anything else to pound the stakes into the ground with, but we bought a flashlight at K-Mart which Edward held and pointed at the stakes, and I pounded them in with a big rock that Ruby helped me find.  It was an experience.

Having now set the tent up, it was clearly time for s’mores, so I made a fire, and when Simone and friend arrived, we all had yummy snacks and I decided to blow the air mattress up.  We had a pump that hooked into the car for power, and so I got it going and quickly realized that the nozzle was too small and our mattress was not inflating at all.  Thank goodness I am an opera singer.  Finally, all of my hot air and my trained lungs were good for something.  I blew that whole dang thing up myself so that Simone and I would not have to sleep on rocks.  We did have a second mattress with us, but sleeping on rocks is good for kids, right?  It builds character.

So with the mattress blown and the s’mores eaten, we got to bed just before 11.  Now, I don’t know what time your two-year-old goes to bed, but mine usually goes down around 7 or 7:30.  Both kids were out cold in about two seconds flat.  I’m not sure when or where it was that we realized that, not only did we now have an extra person and their bag to fit in the car on the way home, but we suddenly had two tents!  There was no possible way we were going to be able to bring them both home with us.

RESOLUTION
So we called my mother and made her drive to our campsite to pick up her dumb old tent with the dumb old poles that didn’t fit.  We offered her a hot dog on a stick for her troubles, but she had just eaten, so she just gave us the tent money, packed the tent into her van, and headed out.  And, lest you think that everything went wrong, I might also tell you that we had a great time for the rest of the trip.  We went swimming and boating and hiking, and Ruby can’t wait to go back again next year.  But I think if we go again, we might stay in a cabin.