When asked if Chris and I camp, my answer usually goes like this: "I like to think that we camp all the time, but, really, it's only in my head." The last camping trip I can remember was when we lived in California. It was on Balboa Island with my dear friends, Tammie and Ali. But, that was a "no boys allowed" trip, so it doesn't count for camping as a couple. We've stayed in mountain cabins before and one in the woods, but camping in a tent?
It's been a long time.
My dad used to take me and my siblings every summer when we were younger. His version of camping was driving up abandoned roads in his yellow Dodge hatchback, making us look over the edge of cliffs to find "the best spot." We would literally park on the side of the road and carry boxes of gear down steep hills to a small patch of gravel by a creek. Since we would never miss church on Sunday, we would find ourselves dressed in church clothes carrying those boxes back up the embankments, trying not to get dirty.
I laugh at those memories now, especially the time we almost lost my little brother in a river. Something about shimmying across a wet log with arms full wasn't safe.
My dad does know how to weave a campfire story, and his eggs and baloney cooked over a morning fire never tasted so good.
Last night we came very close to camping in a tent, but then it rained, so we ended up on couches and an air mattress in Mike and Mel's living room.
It was a good idea. No, great idea!
Babysitters were arranged, so the adults could play. We basically had a grown-up camping/sleepover at "Camp Gardiner." Their backyard was set up with camping food, lawn chairs and a gorgeous fire. In-between downpours, we made pie iron pies (aka "hobo pies") over the flames, grilled portobello mushrooms, ate more than our share of potato chips and French onion dip, watermelon, corn and edamame salad, crackers and hummus, and s'mores for days!
|Rachel's first "hobo pie."|
|Love me some s'mores!|
With only three weeks left in Ohio, this was the perfect way for us to celebrate with these friends. They were our first friends in Ohio, and remain steady and true. The spontaneous dance parties might be the best part of every time we get together. For sure, our hilarity and antics make my dozen mosquito bites worth the itch.
I know we will all be friends for life.