Camping, Fishing, and Swimming

We're back from our camping trip with at least one exciting story to tell. And, despite the forecast for rain all day Friday, Friday night, Saturday and Saturday night, we got, maybe, 6 drops. The weather was beautiful and the kids got a slight sunburn.

Deanna spent the entire weekend in the lake. Our campsite was next to the boat dock. I chose it so we'd have no neighbors on one side. It was a two-tiered site with steps inbetween. The top tier housed our tents, the bottom tier had the picnic table, charcoal grill and fire circle. Then there were steps from the lower tier down to the lake, with a nice stretch of beach. Just past our little private beach was a fishing dock, a little further out of the cove was the boat ramp. Deanna discovered quickly that, although the water off our beach was full of seaweed, the boat ramp was clean or she could jump off the dock and swim, avoiding the yuck at the bottom of the lake.

Dane spent the weekend either fishing or talking about fishing. I've never seen a child that could talk so exhaustively about nothing. He asked about how big we thought the fish in the lake were. He asked what kind of bait or lures would work best in that kind of a lake. He pored over his tackle box, examining every single item time and again and taking them all out so I could examine them and explain to him what they were. He was fanatical about fishing - a definite male - completely single-minded.

Daelyn wandered from one thing to the next. He'd swim for a while, then walk around on the beach, dig for fresh-water clams, search for firewood in the rough, roast marshmallows, throw sticks on the fire, play with Donovan - just wandering aimlessly and peacefully around the camp area. He'd fish with his brother for a while, then find some other distraction for a while.

Don seemed to mostly rest. He sat around alot, which is what he needed more than anything. And I worked. Don't get me wrong. There were those occasional times when I just sat in a camp chair or laid around in the tent in front of the fan I took for my hot-natured husband. But I had a fire to tend, firewood to haul and cut, food to cook, dishes to wash, and the never-ending job of cleaning up the campsite. It felt like I was always busy, but it was a very nice change from the busyness at home. It felt much more relaxed, somehow, and we had no schedule to keep.

Friday afternoon, as Don and the boys were setting up the rain fly and canopy over the picnic table (remember, we expected rain all weekend), I was working on the tents on the top tier. I heard Don point out a lizard to Dane. I turned to watch and saw them looking at a tree. Apparently, Don had seen a rather large lizard climbing the trunk of the tree. It took Dane a few minutes to locate, but he finally saw it, too, and they both stopped to watch it for a while. On Saturday afternoon, we were sitting at the picnic table when Daelyn ran up and told me that he had seen a snake. I smiled, wondering if it was the exact same lizard from Friday. I started to explain that it was just a lizard, then decided to humor him and go look at it. He took me to the steps going up to the top tier and pointed at the ground. There, slithering between me and my tent, was a snake. I was shocked beyond belief. It was right there - in our campsite.

There are not too many things that scare me. I don't enjoy cockroaches, but I'm not afraid of them. I'll chase a mouse (or rat) out of the area with a broom. I once was walking down a sidewalk in Texas when a tarantula walked across in front of me. I took my sandal off my foot and stomped it flat - several times. I've been chased by a shark at the beach and stung untold times by jellyfish. I flick spiders off me and pull ticks without fear. I'm just not a fear-filled person when it comes to creatures. But all that flies out the window when it comes to snakes. The one creature that will make my blood run cold is a snake. And there one was - in our campsite.

I kept the children from getting too close and we stood and watched it slither around, then head back into the woods. Dane announced that he could tell by the coloring that it was a poisonous snake. I don't know, but I asked Don to look it up when we got home.

"We're better off NOT knowing," he told me. He's right, of course. So I sit and wonder if this will change how I feel about camping.

I'll tell you one thing for sure - I'll not be walking through woods around our campsite in the future in sandals. Tennis shoes for me. Tennis shoes and a big stick.