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My idea of roughing it usually includes a bed at a hostel in a foreign country - not a tent in the middle of the woods. We were asked on Tuesday if we were interested in going camping this weekend. Being the gung-ho semi-spontaneous people that we are, we said "ok" not realizing really what we needed to do to actually go. Since we were both sick like no ones business for two days of the week, we didn't have much time to really think about what we needed to bring, what campsites to check out, what the weather would be like or what we should pack to stay warm. I was obviously delusional because I didn't think it would be cold - it's summer, no?Friday after work we went to Canadian Tire to check out tents. Scott had one but it smelt like curled milk which wasn't going to help my already nautious feeling. $130 later, we had a sweet ass tent which boasted it's waterproof-ness and innovative design. After taking it home and setting it up in the living room, we realized it needed to set up the air mattress to make sure it fit inside the tent. Then we realized we couldn't find the pump. Where would the pump be you ask? On the back of Scott's proton-pack he made for his Halloween costume as a ghostbuster. Right. So back in the car and across the city to Canadian Tire to buy a pump, and not just any pump - the pump. The mother of all pumps. We headed out of town about 10:30 and made a quick stop to good ol' TH's. Packed to the rims in Joel and Denise's 2-month old Nissan X-Trail, we were ready for roughing it in the great outdoors. After making a quick stop at the visitor centre in Kananaskis Country, we had our map and destination in hand - we just needed to find it. After about 45 minutes of driving, we came across the turn-off to Coleman which set off the warnings in my head - we were about 45 minutes too far. Shite. We turn around and header back to the turn-off. We found our spot, lucky number 13, and set up camp. Scott and I put up our tent, Denise and Joel put up their tent and we were good. Well, except for the fact that their tent smelled of mould. Plan B: they would sleep in the truck and we would use the mouldy tent as a gazebo / storage unit. We had a visit from what I called the "Tent-Nazis". The old-lady campground manager came into our site and asked us about the smelly tent set up. Was it being used? And if so we needed to pay another $18. If not, we had to take it down. Well, what if Joel and Denise slept in the car? Right - because it's a "sleeping-unit" that would cost $18 as well. A little white lie saying they would sleep in our tent and she was gone - but we knew she was coming back. Joel and Scott decided that if we couldn't use the tent to sleep in, it would have to be a gazebo. We took a quick trip to the general store en route to the Upper Lake and Scott bought another sleeping bag as my bag was clearly not going to be warm enough for me to survive the night. It rained a little, and then a lot, and then a little. We then realized we weren't really prepared. We didn't have enough clothes, didn't really have shelter from the rain, and yah - what was I not doing in the city? The boys bought some wood and we made fire, later cooked some hot dogs and played bocce in the woods. After a couple beers, some more food and some random banter, the "tent-nazis" were back asking us if we were taking down the tent. When they found out it was now a gazebo, they let us be and we got away with not paying for a separate sleeping area. We were then ready for bed after a smore or two. It was cold, it was so cold I could see my breath. I crawled into my first bag, and then into the second, hunkered down on the air mattress and tried to breath as heavily into my bag as I could. I was worried for my limbs and feared they wouldn't make it through the night. Throughout the night Scott would wake me up and ask me if I was still alive. The second time he woke me up, it wasn't to ask me if I was still breathing, it was because our mattress was soaking wet with the condensation from the inside of the tent. It was only 4 a.m. We had a while still before we could get warm in the truck. When I woke up for the last time, I couldn't feel my feet. I mosied my way out of my sleeping bag and hobbled close to the fire. A bowl of oatmeal and a quick pack, we were going home. I now know that next time I decide to venture out into the camping-country, I need to go prepared. Posted by Bella at 3:53 PM# 2 Comments: You're such a princess. =) By Oh Megan, I am so with you! Except my idea of roughing it would be in a pimped out, suped up RV. That, or some swanky 5 star tropical resort. By
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