Camping.
It’s the time where people can sit around a campfire as they make s’mores.
It’s the time when people can swim in the nearby lake....the time when fireflies are chased, the time when people bundle comfortably in sleeping bags.
I didn’t experience any of this.
Well, the bundling in the sleeping bag thing, maybe. Since it was raining and all.
There was no open fire to make s’mores. That’s because open fires were not allowed where we were at. And even if they were, I’m not sure my friend Amanda and I would have known how to start it. I know I can start a fire with a flint because that’s how people start fires on Survivor.
There was no lake nearby to swim in. I mean, there were puddles all around thanks to the rain so if we had wanted to, we could have sat in the middle of one.
Fireflies don’t live in Wyoming. Antelope do though. They roam around the base and I was a little worried that one would run into our tent. They’re not the brightest animals in the world. They’ll stroll out in the middle of the street and just stare at you while you sit in the car, cursing them.
Amanda and I had decided to camp a few weeks ago. We assumed the weather would be nice because hello, it’s June. But we forgot that we were in Wyoming, the land of 80 degree weather one day and 40 degree weather the next. Wyoming decided to give us 40 degree weather when we decided to camp. We debated postponing the camping trip but then realized that we were in the mood to camp dammit, so camp we would.
Ours was the only tent set up on the camp ground. We were the only crazies who dared to camp in 40 degree weather while it rained.
And yes, the area where we were camping was haunted. This is what it says online:
"Later research discovered that in the 1920s, a young Indian woman was brutally raped and murdered by cavalry men at White Crow Creek, Warren's present day FamCamp. "
And it’s that poor Indian woman who can be heard screaming at times, and rightfully so.
Still, I hoped she wouldn’t scream while we were there.
Everything was going smoothly until we both had to use the bathroom. And good news, there were actual bathrooms there. I had first asked, “We don’t have to squat and pee, do we?” I am awful at squatting and peeing.
When we stepped out of the tent it was raining. And when I looked into the darkness I thought I saw a bright eye staring back out at us. Okay, that doesn’t make sense because why would a bright eye be staring at us? But I don’t know how ghosts work so I was all, “Is that an eye?” and I managed to freak out Amanda. It turned out it was just a light from the RV area but still. It COULD have been an eye.
Then when we crawled into our sleeping bags the tent lit up as though there were a vehicle with their headlights on right in front of it.
“Um, what’s that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Amanda replied.
“I swear, if Tom is trying to scare us I’m going to be pissed,” I fumed. I wouldn’t put it past Tom. He loves freaking me out. (“You just look so funny when you’re scared,” he once told me.)
“We should peek out and see,” Amanda said.
“Yes,” I agreed.
But none of us moved. What if it were an axe murderer? Or a ghost? Or an ALIEN? I’ve seen some horror films, whoever is dumb enough to CHECK IT OUT is usually the one dead.
It turned out it was just a spotlight that came on. But we didn’t know that. The worker at the campsite should have warned us. He could have said, “Don’t be alarmed when the spotlight comes on.” But no, all he said was, “Good luck with the ghost,” when Amanda had checked in earlier.
Who says that?
Good luck with the ghost?
There is NO LUCK to be had with a ghost.
Amanda and I eventually drifted off to sleep. I woke up a few times thanks to the trains that go rumbling past. It was especially fun when they blared their horns. I wanted to shout, “Hello, people in tents sleeping here, thanks!”
But we survived.
We didn’t encounter a ghost.
We may have encountered wetness but that’s okay. Because in the end we got something that we really needed: an adult conversation without any interruptions.
I’d go back in a heartbeat.
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