Tenting

“Here comes someone else” Said Shirly Jo.

On this trip we were camped on the hill next to the public boat landing in BERT’S BAIT AN’ BACON RESORT on Smoke lake. The usual suspects were sitting next to the fire pit, entertaining themselves with a few brewski’s and watching people launch their boats the evening before spring fishing opener. There was myself, Grandson, Skunk, Miles and Shirly Jo.

A couple about our generation drove a car into the turn-around. They had to back their boat down the slope toward the dock at the same time making a sharp turn. Before they tried to back the boat, they both got out to get the rig ready for the water. They took off the tie-downs, and tarp. They seemed to disagree about this process. They appeared to be arguing. The woman told the guy (in a loud voice) to get in, back it up and shut up.

“Watch this, ” said Skunk. “They’re from Iowa. Let’s see what they do.”

“Yep. Pig farmers from Iowa” I said. “Grandson, get me another brew, this could take awhile.”

The guy tried backing up with the woman shouting directions. Because of the sharp turn needed to get the rig lined up with the dock, he made several tries. He was cussing. She was shouting directions and gesturing. Both getting a little upset until finally the rig was lined up. Then the fun began.

He gunned the car sharply backwards and then at the proper time slammed on the brakes expecting the boat to slide off. This was a common practice. If the rig was prepared properly, the boat would slide off when the rig was stopped sharply. In this case the rig wasn’t in water deep enough. He pulled up the ramp. Tried it again. The water was deep enough and the boat started to float but did not break free of the trailer. He shouts at the woman to pull on the rope. Which she does without success. So he backs deeper into the water. By now we could see the trailer was floating.

He couldn’t see what was going on so he got out of the car and helped her pull on the rope. Nothing moved. He’s now blaming this situation on the woman. Had to be her fault.

“Look at that, ” said Miles. “They still have a tie-down wrapped around the rear of the boat and it must be tied to the trailer.”

About that time the couple also noticed the tie-down. The guy looked sheepishly around to see if anyone noticed. All he saw was our group laughing so hard we fell on the ground. This of coarse lead to a few more brewski,s and a few more campsite lies before we settled down for the night.

Don’t confuse campsite lies with the regular kind. The regular kind could hurt someone. No, these are the entertaining types. An example would be if you said “That fish was so big it took me two days just to drive around it with my 4X4.” That’s a nice campsite lie. Unless of coarse it really happened, then it’s just another story. And it is usually said only after everyone has had a limit of brewski’s. Not that I had any brews or lies to tell. All in all, an entertaining evening was had by all.

Before dark, Miles had pitched her tent with the flap opening toward the lake. The hill sloped down and then dropped sharply to the water. The rest of us had pitched our tents on flat ground. We were experienced campers. Some time during the night, she got to rolling around in her sleep and rolled out the flap. Tossing and turning in her sleeping bag she just naturally rolled and slid down hill toward the lake, still sound asleep. They say a rolling stone gathers no moss. She not only gathered moss but a chipmunk, several sticks and startled a raccoon. She finally stopped next to a gentlemanly boulder on the edge of the lake. When daylight finally woke her up she started shouting, the chipmunk was screaming, badly upset and the raccoon was packing to leave the county. She learned it is best to pitch a tent on flat ground or risk ending up in the water far from where she started.

Camping next to a dock works for me.