Camp, Camp, Camp Away

Day 1 of our camping trip is under our belts, how many days we have left is open for discussion but it should be at least 18. That’s a good long time on the road.  Will we survive it, that is the question.

20120706-170359.jpgLast night we spent the evening at Christina Lake, in the Gladstone Provincial Park. We had a beautiful spot situated on the plateau with a view of the lake through the trees. Many of the sites in the park, those not on the lower level, are on a side hill above the plateau and while they are still nice camping spots they did not afford the view we enjoyed.

The best part of the deal was that while it was on a whim that we checked this park for open sites it was purely by chance and good fortune that this one spot was open, virtually the last available site.  And this is in a park where 100% of the camping is by reservation only. Must be good karma.

It wasn’t all just happiness and glee however, there were some moments of stress. And I’m not talking stress created while I’m backing our 5th wheel into the spot and my wife is giving directions.  That can certainly be stressful.  No, this stress was caused by a group of young boys playing soccer on the road through the park.

I have nothing against the summer fun and frivolity of young people enjoying their camping time doing what they love. That is what summer vacations and camping are all about. I do care when the soccer ball spends a disproportionate amount of it’s playtime in my site either rolling through or bouncing around my vehicles. The straw that broke this particular camel’s back was when the dirty ball caromed off the hood of my truck, onto the ground, bouncing back up and whacking my side mirror enough to cause it to shake. Enough is enough.

I’m afraid the moment got the best of me and I blurted out (at some volume I’m afraid) some chastisement to the youth and told them in no uncertain terms to take their ball elsewhere. This seemed to be of enough note and noticeable volume that their caregivers across the road called out to the group and also suggested they move further down the lane.  Move 20′ down the road they said.  I’m thinking “20 feet, you’ve got to be kidding”.  (inside voice)

This didn’t seem to be enough of a move however (no surprise there) as a few in the group had professional aspirations, or so it seemed as the ball once again ended up touring our site. The young lads were smart this time, or so they thought, for they sent one of the youngest to fetch it. Soon a young girl of 5 or 6 came trotting though, begging our forgiveness and asking our help in finding the ball when she couldn’t see it. We directed her to the likely location and suggested to her that if the ball came our way again I would be keeping it.

That must’ve done the trick, or it just got too late, I’m not sure which is more correct. At any rate the fun and games stopped and we quietly enjoyed the rest of our evening by the fire. We chatted and laughed, told lies and made promises we couldn’t keep. It was a fine night subsequent to that.

All in all it was a delightful experience and except for the soccer ball antics was a day to remember.

We will be staying at our daughters for a night or two now but on Sunday we will leave her place and head for the next phase of the camping trip. Perhaps our karma will again carry us along and that leg will be as enjoyable as the first. Here’s hoping, and to camp, camp, camping.


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