Camp of the Woods

The threat of camping continues to hover like a dirigible of doom on the horizon of my not-too-distant future. The digital display on my mental airship is partial to scrolling out stuff like TICKS!...RAIN!...SNAKES! along with the ridiculous number of HORROR MOVIES! with a camping theme: Friday the 13, Sleepaway Camp, and Camp Slaughter to name a few. Of course, there's a part of me perverse enough to kind of want to embrace the fear factor and incorporate the whole "camp terror" element into the experience by eating 'smores and Jiffy Pop and queueing up one of these gems on the laptop at midnight at the campsite:

Of course, I have to say I find the amount of actual fabric trapped in that guy's clenched ass crack as disturbing as any anything else in that trailer.

But that's just me.

Regardless, I know at least one camper who will be along that is adverse to scary movies under the best of circumstances, much less huddled around a camp fire in the deep, dark woods. I'm guessing the whole idea will be vetoed. My point is this: it's kind of a life philosophy of mine that I not participate in activities that would very obviously and seamlessly fit into a "City Confidential" voice over read by Paul Winfield. And camping (like as in "in a tent") is definitely one of those things.

Not that anybody cares.

Despite my misgivings, we took advantage of the ridiculously beautiful weather Sunday to take a drive to the lakes and scout out the perfect spot. And a funny thing happened as I tromped through campgrounds with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face: I started to get sort of jazzed about that whole idea. I mean, sure we could all be murdered in our sleeping bags or, worse, I could find a tick affixed to my body somewhere but, still, damn, y'all, LBL is really, really beautiful. And I love...TREES! And also, the absolute necessity of wearing hiking boots for days at a time doesn't exactly turn me off, you know? In addition, honestly, how much fun is it going to be to pack a chuck box? It was decided that the optimal camp spot would be on or near the water and, while we didn't get our first choice, the second choice was available: While you can't tell from the picture, in addition to all the trees and the view of the water, I was charmed by the multi-level nature of the site. There's room for parking vehicles on the lowest level, up a few steps is the eating/fire pit area (the area I was sitting in while taking a photo) and then,up a few more steps is the tent area. I mean, really, we'll be going "upstairs to bed" at our camp site. Is it just me or is that strangely appealing?

Remind me of all this optimism when I find myself drenched in unexpected freezing rain in the middle of the night in the deep, dark woods clutching a flashlight with dead batteries in one hand and my lifeless, unresponsive cell phone in the other, will you?

Thanks.