I've almost got The Hub sold on the idea of going camping. This is a pretty hard sell, considering that he feels we are living in primative conditions now since we don't have t.v. in the livingroom. ( he has it in his workshop but it only gets one station)

"What do you have against it?" I asked.

"It's dirty. It's hot. Bugs."

"Well, the whole point of going camping is to go someplace cooler. They have showers and tents with good netting and stuff."

"Oh, yeah, I wanna share a shower with a hundred people I don't even know! You can't air condition a tent - bah! It's horrible!"

Part of the problem here is that The Hub knows that, if my health will even remotely permit it, there is no such thing for me as "too primative"

My idea of a great camping trip would be to get out somewhere far from everybody - like up the Appalachain Trail somewhere - plunk down a tent, carry water from a stream, pop in a water purification doohicky, make a fire, catch a fish, call that supper and watch birds.

The Hub's idea of a great camping trip is going to his parents cabin, which is a house in which a family could live comfortably year round.

So.

It's the art of the deal. Two years ago, to try to spark his interest, we went to Camp Recompence park in Maine around the time of our anniversery, and resrved a cabin. Not withstanding that it had no power and no indoor plumbing it was nicer than a lot of apartments I've lived in. So I didn't really feel like I was camping, and The Hub came home thinking "Thank God she got that out of her system"

This time I've got him interested in a cool tent. The Hub LOVES gadgets and he even still has some from camping trips he took with his buddies when he was young. He was impressed by all the little organizational compartments in a "dog friendly" colemen tent, which is, of course much more expensive than the "sleeps two hiker style" that I liked which cost $25.00

I don't deny that part of my interest in tent camping is that it seems to be a cheap way to travel. But the biggest reason why we never go anywhere is the expense of lodging not wanting to be parted from the dog....and I'd love to do something with my very limited free time besides hang around the house.

The best camping trip I ever took was the first one. When I was 8 I went with my girl scout troop. We went to Antitiem. I shared a tent with two sixth grade girls, who had the idea in mind that it would be fun to try to scare me with ghost stories. They didn't know me very well. In my neighborhood the kids begged me to tell the ghost stories I made up -I'd scare the wits out of them only to have them ask for a retelling of the same one (I'd always base them on things that were right there. "You see that pine tree over there? Well, when I was at the library I read that one of the farmers daughters hung herself from that very tree..." And nevermind the physical impossibility of someone hanging herself from a pine bush, the farmer DID have a gaggle of daughters and I DID spend huge amounts of time at the library....so it COULD be true!!!)

To this very day, I remember little Mary Marr being concerned about me and telling me that she had overheard Cindy and Jean my "roommates" hatching the plot. "Oh, okay, thanks for telling me"

And so, when Cindy and Jean started on the bus "I don't mean to scare you, but we think you should know there ARE ghosts in the area" I leaned forward with rapt attention, eyes wide.

"Oh, really? That's so exciting! I hope we see one! I was doing some reading on them. Do you think we'll see the one who carries his head around with him after it got cut off in battle? I'd really like to see the one of the drowned lover out of the stream. Can we get a camp site by the water?" Etc.

I was a wierd kid. Worse ( and I went to confession about this part) I kept harping on the drowned lover and we WERE assigned a camp site practically in the water by lot, and I think I was the only one who got any sleep that night.

It was awesome! We heard owls. There were all kinds of birds. I walked forever along the banks of the water - I'm not sure what the name of the stream was. I'm not sure how far I walked but it was far away enough to not hear my name being called at all by the entire troop. I missed lunch, and the scout leader was just about to call the cops when I strolled back into the camp site shortly before dinner.

I have always had an excellent sense of direction. My sense of time was a little fuzzy, but my sense of direction was in good shape!

And, because I knew I'd never be allowed out of anybody's sight again, but the experiecne of being alone by the water was so wonderful, I went off again that night with only my flash light and my tennis shoes to go down to the stream and look up at the stars and listen to the water lap agains the rocks.

It's a wonder I wasn't eaten by a bear or something....and I was probably only passed up because I was so scrawny.

Anyway, a Park Ranger came the next day and said that a hurricaine was headed up the coast and we might want to take extra precautions. So we dug trenches around the tents. Who knew? It might not even rain. But when the rain started even I had enough sense not to go out.

The next morning I woke up and the tent was flooded. A centipede was crawling overhead. I watched him curiously for a few mintutes then realized that there was another, even larger one about to crawl into Jean's sleeping bag.

"Jean! Jean! Wake up! We're flooded and there's a centipede in our tent."

"Hmhph?"

"I said there's a centipede - " at which point the insect in question reached her hand and she screamed like....well, like a girl.

That woke Cindy up and she started screaming just on general principle.

"Get it off me! Get it off me!!" Etc.

Jeeze. First the ghosts now this. She might have been an Older Girl but boy did I feel competent. I carefully plucked the centipede off of her arm and tossed it out the tent flap. She and Cindy abandoned the tent while I ridded it of multi-legged brethern.

"O-ma-God! thank you! I can't believe you're not creeped out by those things! God you're a lot tougher than anybody thought. I just HATE those things!"

"That's okay, I'm that way about bees."

And then our female bonding out in the pouring rain was interrupted by a scene of mass terror and confusion. Screams coming from ALL the tents - even the leaders and volunteers. Girls running in their nightgowns in all directions in the rain, shrieking. THE WHOLE CAMP HAD BEEN INVADED BY centipedeS!

All these girls who made fun of me because I cried through the whole Stations of the Cross, who shunned me because I lived way out in the country and didn't get Goomer Pyle on television, who hadn't wanted to bunk with me because they thought I was a cry baby....they were all afraid of the centipedes.

But instead of laughing, except for a little tiny bit on the inside, I felt something else. Oh-oh, they all feel like I do with the bees. They might know the bugs can't hurt them but they're too scared to care!
I thought. I told you I was a weird kid. And I launched into action at the tent nearest ours, yanking centipedes off of girls as they ran by and keeping them from running into the water. I had real pity for the girls who had gotten them in their hair. They were really sticky and hard to get out.

"Time to break camp! We're goin' home early!" Our fearless leader shouted. She looked a little green, the poor woman.

It was very quiet on the ride home. When we got back to the school, all of the other mothers of all the suburban kids were there. Someone had tried to call my house, but no one was home. I was back to being the bumpkin, since every other parent had been wearing out the phones at the first mention of the word "storm". My parents were suprised to see me when Mrs. Boyle drove me home....I didn't think it was a happy surprise either.

"Get in that shower right now! You are mud-dey!" My mom screamed with what I now know was the displacement of guilt, having heard that every other mother had been badgering the scout leaders husband and had known as if by telepathy what time to pick up their daughter.

She was even more horrified when she heard about the centipede invasion. "But we only had three in our tent because ours was the only one that flooded, and they went on to higher ground to get out of the way of the water which was up - " I abruptly stopped talking at the sight of my mothers face, fearing she would never let me go camping again!

But I had a great time! And, true to my raisin', I was as surprised as my folks that a little bit of rain had curtailed our activities. After all, wasn't that what camping was all about?

The next year we all camped in a lodge. The whole troop had to sleep together in one large room in bunk beds. I had such a severe anxiety attack from being stuck with 28 other girls for 48 hours that I missed the fashion show - the "highlight" of the trip because I had an overwhelming need to sit outside by myself. And because there was no way to explain this feeling to the scout leader, I just said I was badly homesick so she would leave me alone.

So much for "cabin camping".

And I still think centipedes are neat looking. I wonder what ever happened to Jean and Cindy?