Camping!!

The only place to begin is the beginning. Before I began this trip, I was absolutely in the pits. Plans squashed, hopes dashed, and dreams faded. It’s not that where I am doesn’t make me happy. I just know that other places make me more than happy. However, I was giving up on those places. Deciding it would be wiser to forget the old and make new. And I knew I would be content with that. I’m confident in my abilities to start off as a stranger. But this weekend campout adjusted my perspective. I may meet new people, but how many will match those I know already? None, most likely. The group of friends I have joined with is unique in many ways. I can’t describe them adequately, because I would ramble and lose my point as I usually do. With that, lets begin the detail.

It began shortly after I left Abilene after my last visit. A camping trip was being planned and I was invited. Still experiencing the emotional high from the recent trip, I was excited; but, the feelings I described earlier of lost hope made me question the wisdom. I set myself as a possible participant and moved on. Fast forward to the week before the trip. All the averageness I had been experiencing the past month hit a condemning climax. My plans could not come to fruition because of money problems. The planning for the trip was completed and I had planned to come. Meridian State Park was the destination, with a sizable man-made lake and plenty of trails and explorable forest. Of course, I knew I was practically half of the resources necessary for the trip to work, so backing out would be immensely rude. I regained hope because this situation was more unique than bothering friends while they had schoolwork. I swallowed my emotion and set my mind to be prepared.

Now for the actual camping trip. Allow me to preface this with a disclaimer. I talk a fair amount about the skills I picked up through years of Boy Scouts. I only talk about them because I actually was using them. Some of them might have been unnecessary for casual camping, but I have been principled with certain traits I follow strongly.

The drive up was amazingly uneventful. My truck handled like a champ and my packing was sufficient. Upon arrival, I discovered I was only moments behind the rest. My fellow campers were Jennifer, Christi, Elizabeth, and *faux romantic sigh* Connor. After meeting up at the park office, we paid and were made official visitors. The initial set up was eventful as I tore apart my packing job and revealed the extent of my resources. Propane stove with propane, sleeping bags, mats, chairs, a table, and a bin with miscellaneous equipment including toilet paper and paper towels.

Once everything had been set up, we took a swim. This is the first big event of the trip. I can’t describe how it happened, but I am certain it happened. Connor left first, taking the back way through a fossil-filled valley. We tried to follow, but bare feet and a sense that we were in over our heads deterred us. So we went the boring way. Upon reaching the water, we found out it was cold. Eventually, we all had been fully submerged. Then a challenge was made to reach the opposite side of the lake. A quarter of the way there, I felt like my body was giving out. I’m not entirely out of shape, but swimming is demanding and I have not done much swimming lately. So, I made for the nearby shore, which I could walk on to reach the far side from the original shoreline. As I made my way on the shore, I had strong shivers coursing through my body and general numbness, especially in my extremities. My heartrate became erratic. I tried breathing to control it, but I was short of breath already. On willpower alone, I went to the far side and back. Upon returning to the original shore, I made for some hot concrete and lay down on it. There, I concluded my body was in shock from hypothermia. I don’t know how I got into shock; that was not the coldest water I’ve been in, but hypothermia was probably the root cause. In hindsight, I can recall many swimming experiences where I am shivering afterwards, sometimes for hours. Strange, but insightful.

Next, we returned to camp to recuperate and eat. Then, we ventured out on the Bosque trail, which surrounds the entire lake. Along the way, we reveled in the nature around us. We found a limestone cliff and attempted to climb it, much to the annoyance of the passing park ranger. Then we continued on the trail, exploring anywhere we could. Soon, though, the group became split apart. The trail was obfuscated through a campsite. On a whim, I took a path through brush on the side of a hill, hoping it would follow the trail below where Connor, Jennifer, and Elizabeth were walking. However, I ran into thick bushes and trees. I gave in and got onto the normal trail. I found the trio eyeing an armadillo in the brush. I was also informed Christi had followed me. Feeling responsible, since I had charged through willy-nilly, I backtracked and found the road on top of the hill. I saw no one and ventured back in the brush to continue my search. Then I heard noise ahead of me, on the road. I navigated through live and dead buddy vines and emerged on the road again to find Christi walking on it. We decided to continue on the road. I assumed it would follow the trail below and was sorely mistaken. I have come to call this glorious adventure our “Lost” Adventure. We discovered the road gave way to a paved walking trail. Still assuming we would be led back into camp, we took the trail.

I should mention that if I was really concerned about finding the rest of the group, it would have been easy to find the trail they had taken. I was confident that it would be easy to navigate the park. In reality, it is; plus, the others knew well enough that we would be fine. I felt like there was more fun in navigating out than finding the group.

Anyway. As we continued, the paved walking trail became a standard dirt trail. Along the way, Christi was picking wildflowers, making a bouquet of the lovely blooms. We continued on the trail rather blindly and struck up some conversation. In about half an hour, we found a road a ways off the trail. We made our way to it, finding a pool of stagnant water with red algae in it along the way. There, Christi informed me of why the algea was red, which I have now forgotten. Before we reached the road, an old and decrepit barbed wire fence blocked our path. The edge of the park. We had found one of the highways next to the park. I decided to follow the highway, because I didn’t trust the trail anymore. (Later, when looking at a map, I discovered the trail loops back to the entrance.) Christi stopped a passing car for directions, which confirmed my hunch. The highway we were on connected to the highway with the park entrance. So, we ventured on, finding more flowers, including large pockets of firewheels and Mexican hats. There were other flowers reminiscent of others I knew, but I decided to avoid the attempt. It was on this road that we considered the possibility of making up a farfetched story. The general idea would be that I was injured somehow and Christi had to drag me back to camp with some fake blood appropriately placed. It was a good idea for a time. Then we found better things to enjoy. On the opposite side of the highway was a ranch where we heard cows and saw a horse. Christi called back to the cows with a passable impression. That was interesting, but we went back to walking and talking. Eventually, we came upon the highway we were looking for. We started walking on the right side, but after a car passed by at 70 miles per hour from behind us, I suggested we cross to the left (another thing learned from Boy Scouts). Then, we found the tail of an armadillo. When I looked up from that, I saw a zebra. As it turns out, the area across the highway from the park is an exotic wildlife reserve. I saw a kudu and some gazelle as well[e] (ba-dum-tss). We were instantly fascinated and stopped to admire them. Christi again tried to coax animals to us, specifically the zebra. As we continued I kept watch for other animals. I thought I saw a giraffe, but could not confirm it. Probably just the euphoria of the moment. As we continued, we found more pieces of armadillo. When the entrance came into view, we hit the jackpot. A deer skeleton was in many pieces in a fairly localized area. Four hooves and a majority of the large spine confirmed that. We hoped to find the skull, but discovered it had been crushed after finding the top of the skull by itself. Then we found a jawbone with the full row of teeth and decided to add it to the collection of fossils already shown to us by Connor. From there, it was uneventful. Just a short (by comparison) walk downhill to the campsites. We had forgotten about the mischevy in lieu of our amazing story. (By the way, mischevy totally needs to be a real word)

This whole venture stands out the most to me of all the moments. I would have added more detail, but I didn’t want to lessen the impact of the other great parts. Take my word for it, this adventure defined the entire trip.

Returning to the campsite, the others were preparing dinner. Our triumphant arrival was treated as unsurprising, but the gift of a jawbone and explanation were accepted. Dinner was scrumptious. Wheat spaghetti with Ragù and black beans. I was enlisted as the garbage disposal and ended up pleasantly stuffed.

That night was interesting. We were all excited from the day’s events and therefore “slap-happy.” Once we had all calmed down, another problem became evident. Children. Two campsites over was a group of middle-school aged girls. If you know middle school girls, you probably understand. It was loud until about 12:30 am, while we were in our tents by 10 pm. Not to mention I had purposely left the rainfly off to let the air move, allowing the moon (which was nearly full) to shine in. Plus the wildlife sounds and the nearby highway. To make matters worse for myself, the temperature dropped sharply early in the morning and my sleeping bag is not designed for that kind of cold. I awoke with cold feet. To resolve this, I curled up. Much to my chagrin, I was now uncomfortable, since I had no proper pillow (I was using clothing). I truly awoke around 6 am and struggled to fall asleep for about half an hour before giving up and allowing myself to wake. In time, everyone else came to life and breakfast was made and eaten. The next item on the imaginary itinerary was fossil hunting. Nearby was a dry riverbed. The lake had been dammed with a long mound of dirt, on which a trail sat. Thus, the riverbed was revealed. There, we found a decent variety of fossils that I could not identify; the best I could do was point and say “Shell.” Connor, however, had fairly intimate knowledge of what we found, making each discovery immensely interesting.

After this, we dealt with a minor thumb injury and went hiking. Jennifer, Elizabeth, and Christi generally relied on the map for directions or goals. We men/boys (never can tell) were more intrepid and marched forward. Intrepidly. Though I admit, I tried to be a relay for the split parties, in the interest of keeping everyone in sight. I trusted everyone to be capable navigators in a place like this, but staying grouped is another Boy Scout principle I adhere to…minus yesterday’s adventure. In that case, I trusted the other group to go to our commonly known area, the campsite, while I—ever so *sarcasm* bravely—found Christi. On this adventure, we took the routes the two groups took the evening before. We started on the route Christi and I had taken, though we began on the unpaved section. This trail turned out to be very clear and beautiful for the first half. The beginning of the second half was throttled by fallen trees and overgrowth. After some exploring to find the trail, we came upon the point my companion and I had exited the park. From there, we completed the trail and went to the other group’s path, which was vastly more beautiful and stunning than the previous trail. Many areas were cloistered greenery with a calm and relaxing atmosphere. E.g.:

A narrow, brushy passage opened into a large grassy one. The air here was still, as if time had stopped. Green dominated my vision. A picturesque setting with a powerful spring emotion that captivated the attentive viewer. Paintings of the dense foliage could only hope to evoke the feelings one gets when striding into such paradise.

The emotions I just described remained so for the entire trail. Then we meandered into a meadow that would have been perfect for lying down in if the fresh burrs were not prevalent. We still reveled in the majesty and then continued on another trail, just as gorgeous as the last. Finally, we came upon the main lakefront and trudged back to camp. I say trudged because we had all become reasonably tired after that much walking. All but Elizabeth and I took a deep 1.5 – 2 hour nap. We anti-nappers remained awake for the entire duration…but only barely. We were still worn, but felt no compulsion to sleep, so we did our best druggie impressions while talking about home and staring at passing ants and bees. I also frequently sent angry glares and gestures toward the endlessly annoying highway. Gradually, everyone woke up. Then came some card games. First was Lie/B.S./Bluff. I am not good at this game. At all. Still fun. Then came two card games I didn’t know. Stress is a game that takes themes from Speed and Spoons. I am good at Speed because it requires minimal cunning, as the system is basic. However, Stress reminded me of the laws of supply and demand. And it quite acted like capitalism as we played. Predictably, I lost. Too nice. Mao is the most interesting though. Very engaging for a contemplative and curious mind as mine. I wasn’t great at Mao, but it was a good brainteaser.

After this was a haphazard fishing experience, where Connor fashioned a spear in the interest of eating meat. He pursued a hand-sized fish that I couldn’t identify, as it was cleverly sneaky. We tossed bread, smacked rocks, and peered deeply. Sadly, this fish was much too wise to be drawn in blindly.

It didn’t stop there. Taking the plastic bag for the bread, Connor placed it on his spear to set a trap for the multitude of minnows. But, even the young fish found something “humany” about the whole thing and started avoiding the surface entirely, despite the ample bread supply. In the end, it was all in good fun; we humans were content with the result. Well, except maybe Connor.

At least slightly. By now, darkness was quickly falling like a ton of bricks. Dinner was served, excellent as usual. Afterwards, we started some singing. Acapella is just as moving as instrumental music, if not more, to me. And when I am singing, I am in heaven. So, getting to sing with capable singers rather than just myself enlightened me and also made me think of Haskell Singing School. No bad memories there.

As I have been accused, I admit guilt. I like harmonizing, even if I defy standard logic or the key. Thus, I went for whatever part I felt needed some love with chutzpah. This was another defining moment of the trip. It wasn’t quiet, but it felt quiet. Personal and inviting. Gradually, we tapered off in songs to sing. It was at this time, the idea of swimming in the dark of night was suggested. Connor, Elizabeth, and Jennifer donned their swimwear and went to the lakefront. I drove my truck there, in case the water was too cold. Shortly before the swimmers took the plunge, we all heard a splash. Jennifer had been bloviating about her fears that various carnivorous or poisonous animals lurked in the small lake, ready to eat or kill her in their own ways. This splash served only to double her fear, but Christi and I decided to go investigate the noise while the swimmers had their fun. While listening to their cries of joy, we inspected the shore and tried to find the frogs we kept hearing. Bored of that, we began skipping rocks.

Then we apparently decided to throw rocks toward the swimmers. I could see the rocks landed closer and closer (not dangerously so) to them, but the trio was well involved in their fun. Finally, I took off my jacket, grabbed a rock about as heavy as a baseball, and threw it as hard as I could at about 45 degrees. It hit hard and close (still not dangerously), grabbing the attention of the swimmers. After a moment’s hesitation, Connor called “Was that you guys?” I was already approaching fits of laughter, but I replied “Nope!” The reaction was immediate. “Lets go!” And out they came. Christi and I waltzed over, quite pleased and giggling gleefully behind the backs of our frightened fellows. The splash was described as large (true), close (true), and moving towards them (false!…ish). This only furthered the delight of we deceivers. With that fun had, the wet ones hopped into the truck bed and we dry ones entered the cab. On the way back, Christi and I talked about how to break the news of the deception to the others. Once we had returned and the wet ones had changed, everyone climbed into their sleeping bags. I grabbed the last sleeping bag and put myself and my first bag into it. I also used an unused mat as a pillow. Needless to say, I slept soundly.

The next morning was fairly quiet. We all woke up around the same time and breakfast was quickly made and consumed. During breakfast, I asked the swimmers “How scary was it?” Connor started immediately with “It wasn’t really scary.” A few other thoughts flew around, from worry to concern. I grunted amusedly. “Hm. I never knew a rock could be so scary.” The reaction wasn’t so emotional as I expected, but Jennifer was rather displeased, I’m sure. Yet, the moment was unforgettable.

After that, camp had to be taken down. It was all done with a general sense of denial that the time had really come. I packed up my ample gear, impressing Christi in the process, and put it away essentially the same way it had come. And now came the goodbyes. I always tell myself not to cry…and it still works. (;D) I have a strong distaste for lingering goodbyes. The faster we say goodbye with gusto, the more at ease I will be. The key here is gusto. Well, much gusto was exuded by everyone. It started with Connor grasping me and feigning utter sadness, even if the truth is not far from that. It then morphed into a group hug, I being the center and most squeezed. Loved it, too. Then came a few personal hugs. Connor and I began an impromptu sparring match which ended with me poking him in the face and almost simultaneously blocking his strike with a hard-dropped elbow. With our respective smarting areas, we engaged in a final hug. Then came some more hugs. (Double-dippers. ;P) And then…it was done.

This trip was indescribably beneficial to me. Coming from a month of pure disappointment, I find it hard to iterate how much I have been blessed in the course of three days. I was losing faith in many things and groaning at the propositions I might have to accept. But this weekend changed all of that. I don’t need to wallow in sadness. This is all part of an over-arching plan to eventually set my plans in motion. I’ve had patience enough just being ousted from ACU. It won’t be easy to keep being patient, but I know the reward for doing so will be unmatched in value.

Thank you again, Connor, Christi, Elizabeth, and Jennifer. It was truly unforgettable.

Chris P.

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