Lost in the woods again-- well almost

As many of you know I have been attempting to learn Spanish , work, blog and study for the GRE while raising my children. These little endeavors add up to one thing: guilt. Yes, there is never enough time to watch my 7-year-old jump off the diving board and feign drowning in the deep end, and so, I have taken to camping.

Last week, I thought it would be cool to camp on the coast. It’s 108 here and I’m melting like the wicked witch running through the sprinklers. But alas the coast is not clear. There are no openings. Apparently our state and national parks are like fine dining establishments and require such things as reservations, which incidentally cost more than if you just showed up at the gate and handed the wide brimmed hat your checkbook. Priority seating? Priority camping? You see the world really is a stage.

And so I thought I’d stay close to my hubby’s prison camp (fire station). I called and asked for the camp in Cassel, paid my $50 for my two nights of on the ground comfort and started packing. It was an ordeal. I have a tiny Turbo charged Subaru Legacy, so sacrifices had to be made. Easy enough? It's hotter than Billy Be Damned with no clouds in site- chuck all the tarps and the rain cover. I’ve got charcoal. Who needs a camp stove? Lantern? The kids all want their own flashlights, so why take up the space?

Somehow I would get it all into my car. I kicked, sat on and squished all the air out of every sleeping bag and article of clothing. I shoved the ice chest onto the front passenger’s seat not a taking a moment to gauge the clearance of the ice chest handles before slamming the door-- Viola! I just earned a knick in my brand new upholstery! Note to self: get car detailed before hubbers comes home.

And then, I had an epiphany. Heavens gates parted and gave me a brain. Wouldn’t it would be a good idea to get directions before I go? Let’s not get lost in the woods. This was the first smart thing I did the whole weekend because it turns out there is a park in the town of Cassel and there is also a Castle Crags Park. You guessed it I was registered at Castle Crags.
Now Castle Crags was a beautiful park full of Sugar Pines, hiking trails and these gigantic castle-like rocks that had been formed by glaciers or were some sort of glacier-- any geologists here?

Upon arriving at campsite 46, you know the one closest to the bathroom, I was properly introduced to the camp host, a horde of mosquitoes who mistakenly thought they were invited to dinner. And like a good hostess I dosed them with a fine mist of perfume to cool them off from the heat. I was now free to set up the Taj Mahal of tents and to warn my daughters not to litter or the bears would get them.

Attention mothers trying to wean their kids from sippy cups or babas: go camping and tell them they can’t have their baba because the bears will get them or steal it. I’m telling you it works like a charm. Every time we drive by this one park, my 4-year-old says “that’s where the bear stole my baba.” She wasn’t even 2 when the even happened, but it is still wedged in her brain.

And so with a few prayers and a few unlady-like words, I got the tent mostly upright when realized I had tossed the hammer out to make room for the toothbrushes and deodorant.

I asked happy camper #48 if I could borrow his. In the back of my mind, I hoped chivalry still existed and that he’d make my tent have square corners instead of the A-frame/U-frame/Picasso look . Instead he handed me the hammer and said “cool tent.”
An hour later, I returned it and he looked at my how the heck is it still upright tent and said, “You can keep it longer if you need it.”

That night, we slept in our tent with its amazing skylights and awoke the next day to gray skies and thunder. Frantically I asked the kids to grab all their belongings and throw them in the trunk. Unfortunately, I forgot my kids don’t speak English, so I was the only one doing anything. They just asked for breakfast.

And like the well-trained mother I am I made them blueberry pancakes and hot chocolate over the fire-- though I’ll admit it took me three hours because I didn’t have enough charcoal and had to forage through the forest for wood and pine cones to keep my fire hot.

Off to the hardware store we went for a trap, hammer, camp stove and lantern. A hundred dollars later, I returned to sunny skies and no rain.

All in all it was a fantastic vacation. We visited waterfalls and hiked. I made these terrific hamburgers and grilled vegetables no one would eat. And then the surprise of all surprises.
Just as I cursed under my breath because I was too tired and crazy to camp with three small children, I heard a familiar hum. It was a car-- a faintly sick car with a bad transmission. But it couldn’t be--

Oh but it was. There he stood 25 pounds lighter than two months ago, and in his hands was a bouquet of sunflowers picked from a roadside and three peacock feathers (one for each girl). He had just 24 hours, but I didn’t care. Even with a gaunt, tired face his was the only one worth seeing that night.

He found me.