Real Camping

I am shamed. It's been a LONG time since I've blogged. Life has actually been pretty full. Better descriptive word: busy. Busy with church callings, busy with work, busy with life.

I'm still rocking it AZ style; though, as fall has come to other states, I find myself exceedingly jealous. I LOVE fall colors. I LOVE fall weather. Being able to cozy up with sweaters and blankets is a favorite pastime. Right now, I still occasionally sleep with a fan pointed directly at me.

I wish I had time to blog about all my going ons. I've had some fun experiences. Alas, time (and my memory) is short. Never fear, I shall regale you with my tale of my first REAL camping trip.

I went to girls camp for six years. I was a leader for three years. We had toilets and wooden floors. I've never been camping where there were no facilities.

11.11.11.

A date that will forever be cemented in my mind. It wasn't because of the "aw neat" factor of the numerical date. We were originally set to go to a campsite for the night. Turned out to be $25 and only 8 people per campsite. With our numbers, that was out of the question.

We drove on. Into the desert. No bathrooms. No port-a-potties. No anything. I won't lie, I was scared. Not because we were in the desert, a perfectly adequate location for a B horror movie. No, it was because I was well hydrated.

I knew I wasn't going to last. A tree/bush was going to be a necessity. A dear friend, who was also not exactly psyched about the facility situation, ventured farther into the desert with me.

It took about 10 minutes to figure it out. I didn't drink anything else until we got home.

All in all, it wasn't that bad. I would go real camping again. I just need to perfect the "art."