It started with an article in the newspaper. We had been discussing going camping for several months. But the article cinched it. It listed about 10 places, within one tank of gas distance from Augusta, that were interesting to visit. Every place from the mountains to the seashore — a distinct advantage to living in this part of the country. We had decided not to take a long vacation this year, but no one said anything about several short ones.
Several weeks ago we drove up to a spot up at Clarks Hill Lake where Fort Gordon’s Army recreation area is located. We had heard it was a nice place and wanted to have a weiner roast there for the end of the year awards for Bruce’s baseball team, the Indians. However, we needed to check it out. Pointes West has everything and we were impressed. We could reserve a nice picnic area for $10. However, it would cost only $7 a night to camp there. There was a port-a-potty at each camping area! Yeah, leave it to the Army to remember the latrine situation.
We came home and started researching tents. If you’ve not looked lately, tents are ranked by how many people they can sleep — if you happen to be a sardine. The guide shows sleeping bags lined up sardine-fashion in whatever configuration they decree. Sorry folks, there’s only one person in the world I want to sleep that close to. So when I found a want ad selling a 6 person tent, used only once, for a mere $50, I called. That would suit us fine. However, it had no instructions. No problem, said the resident former soldier. He was right. It took us an hour, going slowly to sort out the poles and pieces, but we soon had it up in the backyard and looking good.
The next issue was sleeping. Sleeping bags or cots? We are too old and stiff to sleep on the ground anymore. Cots or air bed? We got an inexpensive air bed. It didn’t hold air overnight with no people on it. Back it went. Next came two extra heavy duty cots. One broke the instant Bruce sat on it. Back it went. Next was a queen size raised pillowtop air bed. Perfect. We gave the set-up the ultimate test. Sprayed the tent down with the hose, hurricane fashion, to check for leaks. Minor ones. Quite repairable. Like two ten year olds, we slept in the backyard — in a tent — all night. Slept like babies — or ten year olds. It was great, however, our dog, Ginger, looked at us strangely. (“You two want to sleep out there?”) She trotted off to her soft dog bed — in the air conditioned comfort of the bedroom.
So — we replaced the old Coleman stove, bought a battery powered fan, found an old radio, got the cooler out of the shed, drug out the big lantern and the cast iron skillet and the percolator and our green boxes (where we keep our travel supplies for the kitchen at the beach.) We did splurge on a very deep sheet to fit the air bed. However, all of it still doesn’t begin to add up to three days in a motel with gas and meals. We’re looking forward to Spam and eggs fried up in a skillet for breakfast and hamburgers on the grill. All in the great outdoors. Pack up the insect repellent. Bruce and Kathy’s Big Camping Adventure begins Monday.
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