Tomorrow begins the “big campout.” One year I ventured into the big campout and survived. But not everyone survives the lemming-like onslaught on the wilds come Saturday of Memorial Day weekend all across America. No, some campgrounds shut their gates early, leaving the more random or more frazzled campers out in the dark…or more likely, on their way home.
For the first time in several years, I have planned to attend the “big campout,” but have not called ahead for reservations. This may sound foolish, since this weekend is the biggest camping weekend of the year, but I feel like opting for adventure…after all, I am a wee bit overworked. I’m also suffering from verbosity, which means I’m also tired creatively. A little adrenaline jolt via diet pepsi, a steak on the grill, and a soft cushy down sleeping bag under the stars in the mountain air should help me regain vigor. Recently, I have struggled to rest; an erratic bat or bird is pecking the heck out of my ceiling tiles, living directly above my bed in another dimension…shades of a crack in the wall…well, no, nothing in the realm of time and space, but well….oh my…I need a vacation!
Time to leave….for awhile….
Slan go foill….