Now I am not the biggest fan of camping. I'll do it, but peeing outside and "roughing it" isn't something I suggest as a weekend pastime. I do, however, enjoy spending time with people, so I put on my big girl panties and packed up.
We took the dogs and left Lilly cat home with plenty of food, water, and fresh litter.
Osa was pretty excited. She loves being included.
We drove up Friday and stayed until Sunday.
At first the dogs needed leashes, but once they figured out that if they didn't wander too far and came when called they didn't get tied up, then they were fine.
We made sure to bring a blanket for our old man. He was not too happy.
Saturday was a great day. But then around 7:00 it started raining and just wouldn't stop.
Micah was smart and stayed in the tent without prompting. But the baby dog refused to stay in there. In hindsight, I should have just shut her in, but I kept thinking the rain would stop and we would dry out and things would be fine. But we weren't in Phoenix anymore, and the rain didn't let up for ten friggin hours.
Saturday night was pretty miserable. My pants had gotten soaked helping with dinner. Osa was soaked. When she and I came into the tent, our sleeping bag and other items got wet. We ended up going to bed early pretty grumpy.
And then the gas started. J and I both had the worst farts. They got caught in the sleeping bag, and when you turned over or shifted the covers, it escaped to slap you in the face. J and I started laughing helplessly, because the night just could not get any worse.
At least our tent didn't leak.
Sunday morning it finally stopped raining. We packed up, just to have to unpack and lay everything out once we got home, including our tent, so that it could properly dry out.
J said he's not sure if he's going camping again. I feel like I took it pretty well.
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