Angry Camping

So my wife went out of town to a conference for the week. I decided that I would take advantage of the opportunity to take my son camping and do other man things. We loaded up the truck and drove to eastern Idaho.

Eastern Idaho is many things, and far away from Boise is one of them. Another of the things is smelly. Well, actually, most of eastern Idaho is not smelly, but Pocatello has pretty much enough stink for that whole side of the state. Kind of like Lewiston has enough for all of northern Idaho, and Nampa has enough for all of southwest Idaho. It's like that old saying, 'all it takes is one stinky apple'. Or something like that.

Anyway we drove past beautiful Dubois up to Spencer and camped near there. I know, its a long ways to drive just to camp, but I also wanted to look at moose which is another blog post entirely.

Yeah we rocked over there and did a little tent camping.

Because trailer camping is for wimps.

And people who don't want to tow a trailer across the state.

So we rocked over and set up the tent-ster. I will admit that we had to set up shop in the Forest Service campground. Normally I would avoid that, but it seems my son hasn't yet embraced his birthright of championship camp pooping and prefers to use a camp bathroom.

See, I don't want to sound vain or anything but one of the things I am best at is camp pooping - location selection, log identification, execution, cover up - the whole bit. Yeah, if there were a camp pooping Olympics I would be golden. Maybe multiple times golden. I don't like to brag, but I am good.

Anyhow, yeah, my son hasn't embraced his heritage yet so we stayed at a campground. The first night was ok. The second night we had an invasion of idiots.

I was instructing my son on the finer skills of s'mores making when a few other campers rolled in. One with a woosy pop-up trailer, and the other with a weak land yacht. While one was popping up the other was firing up the generator - you know, so he could catch Glee on t.v. and fire up the climate controls. Wankers.

I hated them both immediately. It's in my nature. In nature.

Nice. I just typed that out loud.

Pop up lady almost immediately lost it when she saw a mouse. A little brown one with black and white stripes and bushy tail. Yeah, I nodded, the whole place was pretty much infested.

A little later the pop ups made hot dogs. Their 2~ish year old son (quite possibly the loudest, most annoying kid ever) immediate started babbling about 'dogs!', and 'eating!'. Mother pop-up was pretty much incensed by the thought of eating dogs and went on ad nauseam to her little boy about how they weren't eating dogs.

I don't think he was listening. He seemed more interested in the little striped mice. You know, I thought it was entertaining though. Some people need to get over their hang ups.

I would eat dogs if the tasted good, but I really don't think they would. I mean, I have a dog that eats poop! I'm just saying.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Generator guy stopped generating and pop-up people turned in. Around 2 a.m. though I woke up to foot steps just outside my tent. I decided to make some noise hoping that whatever it was would go away - well, I did, and it did, right to the bathroom.

Pop up wanker walked right between my tent and pickup to go to the outhouse. Really? Seriously? I decided that's what I would say in my best tent voice when the dude came back by 'seriously?' It was either that or shoot him.

Unfortunately he didn't come back by - he took the trail on the way back. Asshat.

I thought of getting up and taking a leak by their trailer. Not to be a smart ass, mind you. Just to show them you don't have to walk all the way to the outhouse. Yeah, but I didn't want to start a pissing match. I was in a tent remember.

Oh God, I just typed that out loud too.

Instead I just got up early and made a lot of noise. It made their kid cry. Does that make me a bad person?

Nevermind.

The best part is my son slept through it all - generator, pop-up people, and me getting up early. Yup, doesn't like pooping by a log but sure does sleep like one.

Well, this is dragging so here are the rest of what I learned on the trip...

1. For such a big animal moose are incredibly hard to locate.
2. The Pontiac Grand Am is pretty much the official pace car for white trash. I used to think it was the Mustang, but I was wrong. This trip proved it.

Not that I am calling you white trash if you own a Grand Am. It's just that your vehicle selection indicates a possible predisposition to trashy-ness.

Ok. I'm stopping now. Bye.