outdoors

I came home from camping, and my wife asked if my face was red from too much sun.  No.  I led a nature hike of sorts in the woods, but we had the shade of poplar trees.  I didn’t sit in the sun much.  I sat in the shade, wrapped in flannel and fell asleep in my father’s chain from the relaxing wind and allergy pills.

I had a burned face from a very hot and pretty immense fire that some teenagers we were leading built.

They put extra stumps in the center of it to make it burn longer, because one of them didn’t lift a finger to help and was assigned to put it out.  They were getting revenge on him for his always-lazy-ness.  He did wind up proving them right when he threw a hissy fit and kicked something when he had to put the fire out after he tried very hard to get out of it.  I mean, it’s easier than finding, cutting and stacking wood.

On one hand, I was proud that they stuck together and glad that the person who always manipulates the rest of them and gets out of doing anything he doesn’t want to do got a small portion of what was coming to him.  The whole thing smelled of justice.  But on the other hand, I was disappointed at their revenge impulse.  There were other ways to get him to work, though I can’t think of them.

Mostly, though, I’m afraid I might have instilled this revenge instinct in these youngins.  I hope not.  They are some nice people.

The forecast called for cold nights this weekend in the city, so I knew it would be colder where we were camping.  I took my mummy bag accordingly, a sweet army surplus bag I inherited/stole from my Dad.  My usual sleeping bag would hold two people.  While comfortable, it’s not a great option when the temperature dips under 50.  With this particular mummy bag, you really need to pull it up over your head even if you’re not that cold.  You can unzip it a bit, if that helps.  I did.  It was chilly but not cold when I went to bed.  But each night I woke up with my face sticking out of the bag, all zipped up, my large nose very cold to the touch.  It was awesome.  I actually crawled entirely inside and made a tent of hot breath and my hairy arms.

Friday night, I used my cell phone as an alarm clock.  I wanted to get up first, get a shower, make coffee, etc.  I had it inside my sleeping bag so as not to wake anyone else up.  But when it went off, I was on top of my arms, which were asleep and numb.  I could not move them to shut the dang thing up.

Maybe I’m the only one that thinks this was funny.

I damaged a few pieces of gear this weekend, which usually drives me batty.  But I didn’t really care.  Could it be that I am getting closer to relating to my possessions like a normal person?  At least, the utilitarian ones?

I figured out the source of the bruise on my rear: when I kept falling on top of my metal flashlight during a skit about beans.  The flashlight looks like it got run over by a small car or several bikes from my big butt hitting it repeatedly on top of rocks.

Come on, that’s funny.