My fella has a tradition of going camping with his friends every Labor Day weekend. Last year I got out of it- we hadn’t been together that long, I had to do work that weekend, blah blah blag. This year however, there was no escaping it.
We left Friday afternoon and drove upstate for about 5 hours to Gilbert Lake State Park. It was lovely. Sure, there was no decent coffee for miles, but the water of the lake was warm enough for swimming. Kayak rentals were super fun, even if somehow pricer than a rowboat in Central Park. There was no cellphone service, which honestly was a highlight in itself. The opportunity to unplug for a weekend was sweeter than a campfire s’more.
For a City Mouse, I was killing the camping thing! I wore 100% practical shoes while hiking, and mostly kept up with the group! I ate burgers cooked over the campfire, even though that’s totes not what I would have chosen if delivery had been an option! I looked up at night and didn’t faint with shock at the THOUSANDS more stars I could see in the country night sky! No New York Cliché freak outs over critters or melt downs over lack of outlets in the bathroom! I was feeling pretty smug.
That is until I tripped and fell in the camp fire.
You see that grate in the back of the fire pit? Fun fact: it’s basically impossible to see in the dark. That’s how I tripped over it. My face seemed headed straight for the flames, but fortunately they were dying out at that point. My hands broke my fall, landing in the ash on the sides, avoiding the flames. I really only burnt my knee as it hit the grate. It was a completely terrifying couple of seconds but I got off really easy and mostly unscathed.
If you’re a New York Cliché going camping, don’t make my mistakes! Avoid any direct contact with the fire by: #1 Carrying a fucking flashlight like your SO toldyou to and #2 Making him toast any and all marshmallows for you.
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