The sky lightened up this morning, then quickly darkened and poured buckets again. Everyone made a mad dash to the cooking tent and battened down the hatches. We had breakfast together, rain be damned. Dad made his signature pot of oatmeal. We heated up water for our tea and coffee. We sang a few old time songs: Row Row Row Your Boat, Michael Row Your Boat A Shore, Here Comes The Sun. Nobody got hurt.
The thing about camping is, you gotta have a sense of humor. Fortunately, that's a strong suit in my family. When in doubt, we laugh at ourselves, each other, and anything else we can get our hands on.
Besides, it stopped raining. And the sun came out.
It always does.
Our camping stories abound: how about throwing down the tent in a seeingly deserted field late one night outside of Sante Fe, New Mexico only to be awakened by a herd of curious cattle the next morning...fighting off a hungry gull while trying to cook a steak on a hibachi on the black sand beach near Olympic National Forest( our honeymoon)...or getting the kids up early to claim a spot on a mile long solitary beach near Cape May, only to have the only other family on the beach come and sit right next us...or trying to keep the tents anchored in a heavy wind and rain at Acadia as we tried to calm the only daughter who is experiencing her first menses...or on the bright side sharing beers and snacks with hikers from Holland along the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon? It's all awesome. Go for it!
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