Last weekend Dave and I went camping to celebrate the wedding of some lovely friends. We stayed in cabins, danced in the woods, and ate blueberry pancakes. It was wonderful, but I almost died. A lot. It turns out that while I love the wilderness, it does not love me. Here are just a few ways it tried to kill me:
- A spider the size of my palm attempted to bunk with me. Dave spotted the huge, hairy intruder right before we went to sleep. He’d probably been living there for awhile and thought we were the intruders. I tried to explain to him kindly that we needed to stay there for the night. I told him I respected him and his value in nature, but I really just didn’t want to share a bedroom with him. I asked if he could kindly please leave. He didn’t listen. It was super rude. He just laid there and stared up at me with his million tiny eyes. Seeing that the dialogue wasn’t getting us anywhere, I decided I had to take more assertive action. I captured him and released him nicely into the woods. Ok, it was not so nice. I captured him, walked outside to release him nicely, but I forgot the flashlight, so I got scared and just flung him away from me and ran away. I was afraid he would return for his revenge, but I woke up unscathed the next morning, so I guess he found another home.
- I almost died of a burst bladder both nights we were at the cabins, since I was too afraid to leave the cabin the middle of the night. This was at least partly fueled by the giant spider incident.
- When packing up our things on Sunday morning, we noticed a group of wasps outside the cabin. And then inside the cabin. And then we found their home hanging off the roof of the cabin. We decided it would be best to leave and never return.
On a non-wilderness-related note, I also went into a mild sugar coma from the pounds of carrot cake, late night s’mores, and cherry chocolate ice cream I consumed over the weekend. I think I still might be in a sort of sleepwalking state as I type this. It’s not pleasant, but given the opportunity, I’m sure I’d do it again.
Overall, I’d say the outdoor adventure was a success, given that I’m still alive and I wasn’t eaten by a bear. That’s pretty much my measure of success for all activities.