Yesterday afternoon, Susan put together a whirlwind family camping trip to Ft. Cobb. Kind of like when I got married, I was not involved with the planning phase. For both events my primary duty was to show up — which at least for the camping trip, was not difficult as I was already at home, trying to watch college football.
Last night’s camping adventure marked the third voyage of the Mother’s Day Pop-Up Camper. It’s still holding up fine, but will probably need new tires in the spring and a few minor repairs here and there (nothing a roll of duct tape won’t fix). The failing winch situation has been temporarily rectified by a ratchet and a 1 1/4″ socket. It takes a few minutes longer to raise the roof using this method, but it works great. We are considering replacing the winch with an electronic one.
With the truck loaded down and the trailer hooked up we set off for Ft. Cobb, Oklahoma. Here are the directions to Ft. Cobb: take I-40 from Yukon to El Reno, from El Reno go south until you hit the first speed trap (Union City), then you’ll turn west and go through the second speed trap (Binger) until you reach Ft. Cobb. The entire trip consists of two-lane highways that vary in speed from 55-65mph, with two sudden drops to 25mph in Union City and Binger. In both of those towns, we saw cops sitting just on the other sides of those speed drops. I didn’t get caught, but plenty of people do every day.
By the time we got to Ft. Cobb it was dark, and that’s when I learned Susan had no idea where the campgrounds were and that her plan was to drive around the lake until we found them. That worked until we ended up at a dead-end dock. The GPS only helps if you have a destination in mind. I finally got Jeff on the phone, who based on my description of where we were (“You are in the middle of nowhere. Obvious Exits: None.”) he was able to somehow point us to the campgrounds.
Even in the dark, setting up the camper is relatively simple. The campgrounds were almost completely empty (I guess we are out of season?) and other than one other group, we pretty much had the place to ourselves. We set up right next to a playground, which the kids enjoyed despite the fact that it was pitch black and they had to feel their way around in the darkness to find the slide.
Sleeping in the camper, at least for me, is torture. It’s not a space issue — it’s a mattress thickness issue. Every mattress in the camper is approximately the thickness of a graham cracker, and only half as soft. The last time we slept in it, I dreamed that I had been abducted by aliens and they were experimenting on my spine. Last night, I dreamed that I had been in a car wreck and broken my back and no one could find me. In both cases, the dreams were better than the reality. My back is wrecked today. I’ve got to find another mattress to throw in that thing.
As the four of us woke up, we all looked out the camper’s windows to see a family of deer standing in the middle of the playground. As two of them turned to walk away, one looked directly toward me as if it were trying to tell me something. Something like, “Hey you stupid city folk! It’s about to start pouring down rain in about thirty seconds! DEER OUT, YO!” (Or, something like that …)
And so, in the middle of a downpour (thanks for the warning, deer), we tossed our folding chairs, ice chest, and s’mores ingredients into the truck, ratcheted the camper back down into its boxy, tow-able position, and hit the road.
On the way back Susan asked me if I secretly prayed for rain. Sorry hon, that’s between me and the deer. (Wink.)