So, as you may recall, we went camping this week.
Well... not exactly. Everything went great. Wednesday morning we got up, packed up the truck, packed up the dog (only one came with. Three-legged beagles? Not so much with the hiking.), and off we went. 150 miles from our house to the White Mountains. After about 50 miles... it started raining. Not hard, mind you, but... raining. But, hardy folk that we are, we soldiered on.
We stopped at a tourist center in NH, and asked the guy at the desk what he knew about the forecast. His response? "60% chance of rain, every day this week."
Not to be deterred, we told nature to go screw, and continued. We made it to the mountains, found a beautiful campsite right on Russell Pond. It was actually great. Barely anyone else around. Started pitching the tent.
And one of the tent poles broke. But, Mrs. TK, being clever and nimble, managed to fix it. However, by now, it was raining a bit more steadily. But we're determined to continue, because Goddammit, we took time off from work for this. So using her knot-tying skills and my tree-climbing skills, we hang a giant tarp between four trees that covers the picnic table, so we can eat in nice, dry comfort. Finally, we break. We have lunch, and go on a short hike. By the time we get back... it's fucking pouring. I mean, really badly. But, we decide to stick it out. I start getting dinner ready. She is going to organize our stuff inside the tent.
I come back from the car with some food supplies, and I hear this from inside the tent.
"Um, dear? I have some exceptionally bad news."
"What?" I ask.
"The tent is leaking pretty badly".
Motherfucker. Motherfucker! Goddamn Motherfucking son.of.a.BITCH!
So, that was when we finally conceded defeat. Nature, that dirty bitch-whore, had won. We packed up our gear, and checked into a lovely inn that allowed dogs. Had dinner in the restaurant, slept in a king-size bed. All the while saying, "well, it beats a leaky tent".
Thursday we got up, had breakfast, checked out, drove back to the site to take the tent and the tarp down. It was only raining gently, so we decided to go for a hike, which actually ended up being fantastic. There is something really wonderful about the woods right after rain - everything seems greener, there are fewer bugs... it was a good time. It was a tough hike, and a lot of uphill (we were in the mountains, after all). But the payoff at the top was worth it (I recommend clicking the pics - the full size is much better):
Sure, it's a little cloudy, but it was beautiful. Trust me. Here's a few more:
Me, standing on a wooden bridge. This isn't a bad picture - the forest canopy was so thick it actually was this dark.
Ceili The Wonder Dog, swimming happily.
A boy and his dog. And the goofy hat that he bought while on a safari in South Africa.
So there you are. Camping was a bust. We still managed to have a lot of fun, but we didn't actually go camping. Which sucks, because this was going to be my wife's very first time sleeping outdoors. We'll get out there someday soon though.