Lesson Learned

Time got away from me and it has been far too long since my last post.  I’ve had many ideas for topics but not the energy to sit down and write.  Today I am making time.  My last post was about camping and this one stems from the same activity.  I mentioned that I would be going with my family on a Cub Scout Camping Trip.  Let me tell you about the good, the bad, and the big lesson I learned.

Prior to the trip we shopped for food, made lists of items needed, and loaded the van with a multitude of camping gear.  We were well prepared for what we expected—we had a nice tent, air mattresses, etc.  We arrived at the camp and signed in.  The deal was that we had to drive to the site, unload, and then park back at the camp entrance.  That seemed harmless enough.  Hah!  We found our designated site—wait, no, we found a cul-de-sac with a sign that indicated our site was back away from the road.  Uncertainty set in.  We found a sign at the beginning of a trail that we assumed would lead to our site.  We began to hike said trail, following it up the side of a hill as it meandered through the woods.   After a few twists, turns, and a flight of wooden stairs we happened upon our designated campsite about a quarter mile from our van. 

Concern set in.  The upside?  Our campsite had what were essentially cabins, complete with bunk beds.  There was a fire pit, covered picnic pavilion, and running water from a simple spigot.  Well, we wouldn’t need our tent, mattresses, or water supply.  How much stuff could that leave to be dragged up the hill?  A LOT.  It took many, many trips as dusk descended.  My Fitbit was racking up steps a rate never before seen.  It registered my hikes as over 50 flights of stairs.  We managed to get every up and settled, including the generator that Obi John wanted so that we could charge our phones and run a fan—aren’t we rustic? 

Exhaustion set in.  The kind with heaving breaths and near-blindness, screaming muscles and the desire to dissolve into a puddle.  After some fire-roasted hot dogs and the mandatory s’mores we crashed for the night.  I will admit that the sleeping arrangements were pretty decent for a cabin.  I had a double mattress and a cozy sleeping bag.  The fan kept us cool.  The night was peaceful.  And it was good.

Morning broke and I felt like I had, too.  But up I got and Obi John and I put together a pretty nice breakfast of eggs, bacon, and grits.  We skipped the morning flag ceremony, which proved to be our downfall.  Whatever they told Obi John at the previous evening’s parent meeting didn’t cover the daily schedule.  So off we trekked, looking for the plethora of advertised activities.  We walked and walked, looking for fun.  We found a lot of nothing, waaaay over on the other side of the camp.  Did I mention that the roads were all crushed rock? 

We eventually ran into to the other families from our den and managed to do a couple of things before the scheduled hike.  I hated to admit it but I wasn’t up for the hike, which I had been really wanting to do.  So I parked my tired hide in a rocking chair and read, part of the time with my eyes closed.  A couple of hours later I received a call from Obi John informing me that the majority of the hike was vertical and I would not have made it.  Minutes after disconnecting the heavens burst forth with a monsoon.  I rocked for another hour or so until my tired, soggy family returned.  We attempted a bit of fishing but the only thing that was caught was a tree. 

The rain abated and we decided to take advantage and load the van with all but the bedding and breakfast.  Obi John had managed to bust his knee on something and Monkey twisted his ankle while hiking so I did the lion’s share with help from Big Red.  I dragged myself back up the hill after packing and re-parking just as the rain began again.  We conceded defeat to the rain and had a quick dinner before retiring to the cabin-thing.  The next morning we managed to get ourselves and the remainder of our belongings to the van and headed to civilization for breakfast. 

I don’t want to give the impression that no fun was had—it was.  Amid the chaos of poor planning by the campground and bad weather we squeezed in some good, old-fashioned family fun.  We played with fire, ate things on sticks, and got dirty.  I also learned a very valuable lesson.  I have to ask for special accommodations.  I asked about campsites for those with disabilities and of course they have them.  It hadn’t even occurred to me to ask.  I need to start doing that.  Obi John is now charged with helping me remember to ask about accommodations when going places.  It isn't a matter of wanting special treatment, but a matter of knowing my limits.  Lesson painfully learned!