I was sleeping pretty comfortably on Saturday night until about 2 a.m. I don’t know what woke me up initially, but once I was awake, I became aware of a horrible, horrible sound coming from the tent next to us. I presumed it was snoring, but it was snoring of a magnitude I’d never before experienced – an unholy amalgamation of logging equipment and wild boar. It made me want to race home to my husband, throw myself at his feet and apologize profusely for ever complaining about his loud breathing and mild little snorts that I’d always thought of as snoring until now.
As long as I was up, I figured a trek to the porta-potty was in order. After I returned to the tent, I lay back down and attempted to go back to sleep as the sonic assault continued from five feet away. By then I realized that I had a serious case of heartburn, too, no doubt brought on by the day’s many bottles of beer, hard cider, and miscellaneous fruity carbonated malt beverages combined with my enormous dinner. Oh, and I realize I’ve never mentioned the Jell-o shots. N. brought 100 (yes, one hundred) Jell-o shots of various flavors made with apple vodka, and six of us ate them like jelly beans from the time we got to the campground until the float trip ended and we’d gone through them all. That may have been a factor in my stomach distress.
So I lay there with my severe acid reflux, listening to the snores of a very nice guy whom I wanted to murder in his sleep and, I’ll admit it, I got a little irritated. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I jumped up, unzipped the tent flap, sat in a damp chair next to the dead fire in our dark, foggy campsite, and got myself a bottle of water from my cooler because it was the only thing I could think of that might soothe my stomach. I was sure someone had probably packed antacids, but figured it was bad form to wake everyone up at 2:30 in the morning to ask.
Eventually the water helped a little and I lay back down with wads of toilet paper stuffed in my ears and my pillow wrapped around my head. It must have worked, because the next time I opened my eyes I could see sunlight shining through the tent.
We had a quick breakfast of coffee cake and orange juice before cleaning up the campsite and packing to leave. My niece is a heavy sleeper and her parents finally had to deliberately wake her up (we refer to it as “poking the hornets’ nest”) so we could take down the tent. It didn’t take long to pack all of the vehicles, dispose of our trash and start the drive back.
I was home by early afternoon and I paused only briefly to hang up my wet clothes before proceeding directly to the nail shop for a pedicure to counter the damage to my heels and toenails wrought by the rafting trip. I may be fine with roughing it, but scratch the surface and there’s still a little bit of a princess in there. After the pedicure with its accompanying foot and calf rub, I went home and crashed on the couch for three straight hours. Thus, my weekend of adventure ended like every other weekend.
Now I can’t WAIT to go on my next camping trip…
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