The Traps.

So last Saturday was the first and last annual Shenandoah Valley camping trip.

Alli and I ride down together and really are not to pressed to get there quickly. Upon our arrival, Nick and Pete set up our tent. We put everyone else's significant others to work since we have none of our own. Since the tent has two rooms, we dubbed one the living room, while the other was our bedroom. We also had a front porch. During these charades a bee stings me in the forehead.

Bo and Joe are the last ones to arrive. We had decided that I would help her with the doggies over the course of the trip. I pick up Addy, her yorskire terrier, to hold her while Joe parks the car and gets everything situated. Addy pees on me twice. I change my clothes and get back into the swing of things.

Pete eventually gets a fire going and we begin the traditional wiener/marshmallow roasting, all the while sipping on some beers. I make a pact with Dede that this fatgirl will eat 6 hotdogs. I tell her that I will even dip them in water to sog up the bun like the championship eaters do. I AM NOT AFRAID!

By the time I get to my third wiener, it begins to downpour as I am puttin all the fixings on it. Allison and I run and sit in the car to wait out the rain. In the car, we make fun or Nick's poncho and Pierre's sisters Gilligan hat. Eventually the rain subsides and we continue with our bonfire festivities.

About 15 minutes later a MONSOON arrives. Alli and I head back to the car. Our car is directly facing our tent. After about 30 minutes we notice that the two sides of our tent are waterlogged and look like they may cave in. We run into the tent where Allison takes charge of the living room and I am captain of the bedroom. Right away I notice our sleeping bags are wet.

Allison and I spent about 30 minutes poking the top of the tent with sticks to allow the river on our roof to run down the sides of the tent. It begins to rain harder and I obviously freak out. The walls are caving in from the water collections. "Alli this tent is going to cave in and we are going to suffocate and die in here. No one is helping us and we would be left for the bears, bobcats and other woodland creatures." The only thing left to do was abandon ship.

Sidenote: Kayce was also staying in Camp Catastrophe and was no where to be found during the great flood. An entire beer, may or may not have been spilled onto her sleeping bag. Never tell! For realz it was an accident!

At this point Alli and I are soaked, pissy and ready to throw in the towel. So thats what we did. We packed up the car, rolled up the tent and drove off of the mountain following Kristin and Pete, who also decided they had had enough.

The way home was nice and relaxing - minus the fact that the three hot dogs I ate gave me "the traps." The Traps is a term Alli and I coined/patented/trademarked on the way home. It is inescapable gas that feels like appendicitis. You know it's "trapped."

Dillon, Bo's chihuahua, hated camping also so he decided to ride home with us. I spent the entire ride petting him in my lap. "Dillon, you know I hate it when you lick me, it tickles!" My right upper thigh is tickling so bad. "Dillon! Stop it!" Finally I cant take it any more and look down. At the moment I look down, we pass a street light, which lights up the chunky, white liquid in my lap. Yes, Dillon was so scarred from this trip (and my traps) that he had taken a throw up in my lap. An excellent way to bring this camping trip to an end.

So next time, I propose we venture to something a little more waterproof, like a cabin...or a spa.