We may not get to experience the lighter side of life every day, but I love those moments when they happen. It’s as if I’m given a chance to take a breath or at least get some perspective…..
I love the great outdoors. My favorite vacations have been spent camping, hiking, sitting around a campfire, and the time spent bonding as a family. This is not everyone’s ideal, but it is mine. Although my husband calls me ‘Nature Girl,’ I’m probably not as hardy as a true, die hard ‘Miss Rough It’ because I like a bathroom to be within at least a quarter of a mile. To date I think that’s about the farthest we’ve tested our abilities to “hold it.” Guys have it so easy, don’t they? If you don’t know what I mean, just move on.
One of our adventures happened when we were camping near Mt. Rushmore. This campground was very beautiful and scenic. It was truly my ideal, very large and spread out, wooded, lots of amenities within walking distance, bike trails, etc. The campsites themselves looked well kept and set just far enough from the road to be private; they actually dipped down from the road to really add to the privacy. Now, you know you’re a seasoned camper when you drive by a campsite and say excitedly, “Honey that one looks good, it’s near a porta-potty.”
I have one reason for being excited about finding such a nice location to set up camp, besides its proximity to the portable facilities, it was very large and flat. We happen to own a 10-person tent and this particular tent is a monster; it has a ‘living room’ in the middle with three ‘bedrooms’ off of that, it really is quite large. Next to that we put up a large gazebo, to cover the picnic table and cooking area. It’s comical to see because it looks like a circus has come to the campground, but even though it looks complicated; Ken and I can set up camp in record time (sorry about the bragging, but come on, it’s tent assembly, I’ve got to have something I know I do well).
No matter where we go, we pretty much follow the same routine after setting up camp; first we go in search of the showers, then we’ll look for the swimming pool and park, the game room, laundry room, hiking and biking trails, etc. This time though, the first stop was the porta-potty, Raquel was insistent. I came out of the facilities with her and gathered everyone to me; they gave me odd looks because of what I wanted to show them, but they played along. We can be very easy to please, probably because Ken and I have a “low to no technology rule” on our vacations, so anything cool or disgusting will suffice. We all stared in wonder though because this had to be the absolute cleanest porta-potty we’d ever seen, it even smelled nice, if that’s possible. I wanted to weep with joy a the thought that this camping trip was going to be perfect, great location, clean, tidy; it was so nice (we found out later that they cleaned out the porta-potties every morning. It’s done really early and they’re hosed and wiped down to boot).
After two or three days of settling in, we’d already gone on a few outings, chief among them was to see Mt. Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Memorial, we had also toured a cave and a gold mine. So after spending a couple of days driving all over creation, the timing of a “Rain Day” was perfect. Rainy days are a great time to get caught up on the laundry and play in the game room, things we don’t like to do if it’s nice out. I usually meet some really nice women while doing laundry; we’ll swap camping stories and talk about our favorite vacation spots.
All morning, and most of the afternoon, the rain was little more than a drizzle, but later in the afternoon that all changed and the drizzle became a downpour. We had to wrap up our clean clothes in garbage bags so that my morning’s work wouldn’t end up being a wasted effort. It was also getting close to suppertime, so we needed to figure out a way to stop the rain from coming in the meshed sides of the gazebo. We ended up rigging a tarp over two of the sides, effectively stopping the rain from soaking everything.
The temperature had dipped a little, so Ken set up the portable heater. The kids sat at the picnic table and played a game and I started getting things together to make supper. The gusts of wind were really strong at times, so we’d watched as some poorly secured tents blew by us, I felt bad for their owners. The ground was beginning to feel squishy underneath my sneakers and I think the temperature was steadily dropping. The kids were much younger at the time, so the combination of heavy winds, pouring rain, setting sun, shivering cold, lightning and booming thunder, it was starting to get to them. Ken and I decided to rescind the technology ban and started a movie for them in the van, they could warm up and I could get supper going without worrying about them.
Ken helped the kids, while I went digging in the tent for sweaters and such, but I found that there was water in our tent from a ‘window’ that had been left unzipped, so now our “warm” clothes were cold and wet. I was starting to feel a little defeated, so I set my mind to the task of trying to fix this mess. I could probably send Ken down to the laundry room to dry our sweaters and sweatpants, the heater was running in the gazebo and warming things up nicely (I was being overly optimistic about the heating potential of that one little heater), and I figured once we had a warm meal we’d all feel much better. I was determined to do this thing and I don’t give up easily. I grabbed my skillet and spatula and pressed on, determined to be the gutsy pioneer woman.
Ken had the kids all settled in the van with a movie and a snack, and of course, he had done what daddy’s do best, he’d brought their fear factor way down. He was heading towards the gazebo when a particularly high wind came through our campsite. I’m sure from the outside it looked like the gazebo was flattened; actually it felt flattened from where I was standing on the inside too. Ken does an amazing job of making sure our structures are secure, so it bounced right back when the wind let up. Unfortunately, our rigged tarp had slipped and rain was pelting my back, I was starting to feel like a drowned rat (by the way, why is a drowned rat the term that fits best, there’s got to be something else that gets really wet and is possibly cute)? A thunder clap echoed all around us, it was so loud and powerful that I was pretty sure the campsite was going to be destroyed, everything around me shook. I looked over at the van to see if there were any little worried faces looking out. I think the movie had effectively claimed their attention. Ken came into the gazebo, fixed the tarp, and gave me a big hug (I think the hug was to help counter the hypothermia).
Ken had this look on his face, I knew what he was about to say and he knew it was hard for me to hear. When he wants to be tender and convincing I get called ‘Baby’. So, he lifted my chin, looked me in the eye and said, “Baby, enough is enough. The weather is making this impossible.” I felt cold, tired, and beyond damp, but it was hard for me to give up, pride and determination were driving me. Ken also knew the battle that was warring inside of me. He took the utensils from my ice cold fingers, laid them on the table, and hugged me close and said into my ear, “It really is okay. You have nothing to prove. I’m proud of everything you’ve done.” See? He’s good, he knows me so well and I could feel myself caving fast. Taking over and taking care of his family is something Ken does really well. He cinched it when he said, “Let’s go into town, buy some warm, dry clothes and find a place where we can sit down and have a relaxing meal.” Done! I’m sold.
We ran around battening down the hatches as it were, making sure that our things wouldn’t blow away and the rain wouldn’t ruin anything in the tent. By the time Ken and I climbed into the van, my teeth were chattering and my hands were shaking from the cold. It was a shame that it would be a half hour or more before we would have on warm clothes. I put my hands on the vents in front of me, the heat making my cold fingers sting. Our little “driveway” was very slick and muddy at this point, I was hoping and praying that we weren’t stuck, please, Lord, don’t let the van be stuck here. With only a few moments of spinning tires, we were off, Thank You Lord!
Just as we pulled the van up onto the road from our site we saw something shocking, some would define it as horrifying. Ken brought the van to a halt and we just stared. I knew I’d heard a loud booming sound, but I’d assumed the noise was just the thunder. Nope, it was the sound of the porta-potty being blown over. We watched, in shock, as blue water ran down the hill towards our campsite. If you’ve seen The Money Pit with Tom Hanks, this is the bathtub scene. We must have been beyond tired and/or caring. Ken and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. We laughed so hard that the tears rolled down our cheeks, this had to be the most comical thing we’d ever seen (I can’t be sure that it wasn’t a titch demented laughter, it really had been a long day). There was nothing else we could do though, so we just let the laughter loose. It’s probably not a memory I would have chosen to make, but it happened all the same.
Ken put the van in gear and said, “Let’s get warm and go eat.” I’m not sure, but I think we shouted “Yay!” We raided Wal-Mart, changing our clothes in their bathroom; it felt so good to be warm and dry. We lingered over supper. It was still raining, so we sat back, talked, and laughed about the events of the day. It is worth mentioning that Rachel prayed over our supper that night and one of the things that she was thankful for was that the porta-potty had just been cleaned.
Laughter can’t fix everything, but it can take our minds away from harder things, even if it’s just for a moment.
“Nothing shows a man's character more than what he laughs at.” ~JohannWolfgang von Goethe
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