Camping Trip

We returned from our vacation intact and had a great time camping. Although my family and I went camping periodically growing up, I had not been on more than a one night campout in decades. Fortunately we went with four seasoned veterans.

We camped out with a couple (Jim and Sandra) from our Sunday School class whom we are just getting to know. They have two daughters around the same ages as ours and the four girls have already become best friends.

Jim owns a restoration company (they come in after floods, fires, etc. and work with the insurance companies to rebuild homes and businesses). He drove up to Petit Jean in a huge black Dodge Ram pickup. I took the White Goose with the ailing transmission. It has 187,000 miles on it, but with a rebuilt engine at 165,000. So we’re just now wondering when the transmission will blow. Not the best vehicle to take into the mountains, but somehow it held together.

Driving around the park, we took Jim’s behemoth truck and threw the kids in the bed while the adults rode in the front cab. Since the drive from our campsite to the hiking trails was a mile and a half over empty park roads we didn’t think twice about this.

But “Ranger Rick” did. After we stopped, Ranger Rick approached us and said that anyone under fifteen had to ride in the cab but that the adults could ride in the bed. He then said “I imagine that even [here he mentioned our home state] has similar laws to Arkansas and you should keep in mind that we enforce those laws in a State Park.”

His condescension was palpable and I almost responded that “Well, given my state’s history of governmental corruption, it’s also th3e case that $50.00 will keep a Park Ranger from hassling you for three days. Is that also the case in Arkansas?”

But my basic respect for the law and my even more basic desire not to be beaten in front of my children kept my darker emotions in check.

Plus that’s what blogs are for.


Some random thoughts on camping…


Bug repellant keeps away bugs, but not (alas) children.

I’m told that they emit all kinds of poisonous gasses, but burning Styrofoam plates and plastic water bottles is fun.

Loud early morning geese have no snooze button.

No one can out-pester a four year old. No one.

Every male, irrespective of age, at some base level, is a pyromaniac.

A new tent never goes back into its original box.

Campfire Smores are the finest dessert I have ever tasted.

At home we don’t let Squealer carry a dull table knife, but on vacation we do take him on a semi-perilous hike through rugged terrain.

When it is raining on a camp-out, there’s simply not much to do.

My opposition to infanticide decreases marginally in direct proportion to the number of times I hear the question “When are we going to be there?”

I’ll post some pictures over the weekend.