Due to circumstances beyond our control, this year we skipped the Annual Disneyland Pilgrimage and spent months planning a more reasonable, responsible, adventurous vacation! We were going to breathe clean air! Collect pine cones! We were going to go camping! And not only camping, we were braving the real world and going TENT camping! This decision being made on the basis that renting a motor home and putting gas in it was only slightly less than the national debt and buying a nifty six person tent with all the bells and whistles was a very reasonable $47.88 at the local Wal-Mart! (or more like $279.48 if you actually include one of every gadget and gizmo in the camping department). This, of course, does not include the extra four hundred or so dollars spent on Cheetos, hot dogs, Jiffy-pop, marshmallows, spam, chocolate bars and other prerequisite camping food, "just in case" you don't catch any fish with your $96 worth of fishing licenses.
So we're off! Two delusional 40 somethings, a four year old, a four month old and one pregnant teenager.
Being Arizonans since childhood we had a little trepidation about going camping at the end of May.

But we bought a ton of sunscreen, brought a canopy gazebo, a screen tent, and shorts for everyone. If we picked a spot with a ton of shade, we'd be okay. We were just looking forward to all of the fun!

And being almost Arizona natives we completely ignored the weather warnings actually calling for rain. HA!

Everyone knows it doesn't actually rain in Arizona in May or June. So with one of everything from the camping department, everything you can possibly imagine a baby needing for a week, one change of underwear for Art and fishing tackle snagging everything in sight, we get exactly two miles up the road before we need to stop and re-tie down the two layers of gear (read: 4-feet high) on the top of our National Lampoon Family Vacationesque van. (we had to check height limits on the bridges)
So off we go... again!

By the next freeway exit it was apparent after much flapping, pounding and scraping noises, (and that was just our hearts) that we were not quite done standing out in a sandstorm with neon orange tie-downs, grappling with several hundred pounds of necessities and swearing like sailors. And somehow, like assembling some ginormous jigsaw puzzle, we got all the stuff up there again, above our heads, and ready to withstand the torments of the Arizona heat, wind, sand and the relative calm of 75mph.
Several hundred miles later, and stopping a half dozen times and unpacking and re-packing half the van each time, to let Jessie out,

we made it to the campground!
Thank God Art got us up that morning before dawn to make sure we got a camp spot. There were only 30 or 40 left to choose from as we wove our way through the trees, several times, eyeing every delicious picnic table, every spot presumed flat enough for a tent, every bit of potential firewood, until we found our special home for the next few days. (okay, so it WAS Memorial Day weekend, there could have been people wanting to fill up the campground - or they might have been wary of the approx. 400 mph winds we were experiencing) $65 later, paid to the very efficient Camper Joe Host, we were setting up. We were ready to play!
Well, I don't know if you know this, but setting up camp is not exactly like playing. And it's not particularly "fun" when it's about 40*, the wind keeps blowing your 4yo over, your husband keeps using language he was suppose to have put away when the 4yo was born and, for some reason you can no longer fathom, you brought along a very cranky and hungry, pregnant, teenager.
By the time we were were done driving 40 miles into town to buy things we forgot, (really) and then driving back to find our campsite attacked by ravens and torn apart, we were needless to say, ready for a nap.
So, we did.
Light was fading and the wind was calming by the time all of us woke up. With the winter clothes we bought in town, a small bonfire and our tummies full of Hamburger Helper we were actually kind of happy and almost comfortable. And, while shivering by the campfire I think we were almost convinced that Yes! This was fun!

And besides, tomorrow we would catch fish.
Whoever invented vinyl repair kits was either a genius or just plain evil. I mean, really, who wouldn't buy a $2.98 repair kit vs. a whole other air mattress? But, selling them on the basis that they actually repair leaks is really downright Stephen Kingish. Especially at 4 am when you are laying on the ground. And the ground is about, say, 30* or so. And you haven't been able to sleep all night anyway because you are afraid that a. the baby has frozen to death or b. the baby has smothered due to all of the layers of blankets and clothing you have on her. Not to mention that you've been ignoring "the call of the wild" for at least the last three hours.

So imagine my surprise to find myself still in a jovial, optimistic mood in the pre-dawn hours... that is until Art went out to answer his own call and introduced us to another round of colorful expletives...
That rain that we were not expecting??!
We fought the odds and the odds won.
Here we are in full retreat, minus one queen-sized flocked mattress.
The next time you hear us talking about saving some money and going camping... just use the tie-downs... on us.
And remind me.
There's no place like your own back yard to go camping at.

~m