As a reprieve of last years shenanigans, the high school ladies descended on Bon Echo again this year for our second annual "Ladies Camping Soiree". T'was muchas fun, mi amigos!
Fingers and I left Friday morning, and burned up the 401 with very little traffic. Correction, Fingers, FREE SAMPLES, and I left Friday morning. Although the poor dear broke her toe and was unable to accompany us in flesh, a voodoo version of herself (pictured left) managed to make the trip. Please note I trimmed the hair into the "Posh bob" for visual effect. Please also note fake FS is slightly overdressed, as real FS usually is.
With FS navigating, Fingers at the wheel, and me sipping lattes and choosing the music, we made record time. We even made two pit stops--one for Happy Meals, and the other for extra Motts Caesars (Lord knows you can't have enough Caesars). FS was super pumped to arrive, and even helped carry the wood into our walk-in campsite.*
*note: while our campsite was rockin', the carrying of 5 giant food bags, 4 bags of firewood and kindling, 2 tents, 2 air mattresses, 2 packs, 2 coolers, 2 floaties, 2 camping chairs, 2 foot stools, 2 sleeping bags and pillows, 1 case of beer, 1 bag of tools and cutlery, 1 huge mutha tarp, and a partridge in a pear, tree was not.
Friday evening was beautiful, and after our evening nature lesson ("Nature's Way" at the amphitheatre with Jess and Erin) we settled in for a campfire and gossip. Oh, and FS went for a nature hike.
Saturday morning = polar bear swim.
Saturday was a bit drizzly-doo, so we set up our giant tarp engineering styles (honestly, we were so on fire, you'd think a team of dudes assembled it and not little 'old Fingers and LL), and had pina coladas (at, like, 9:00 a.m.)
Next we toured the park, Fingers ate the worlds largest hot dog, I had a coffee, we brought fake FS up to check-in so she could wait for Poomobile (pictured right), and took a nap. A most hungover Poo arrived (wedding the night before) and brought what appeared to be the storm of the century with her, just in time for dominoes and cheesies under our wicked, kick butters tarp creation:
Saturday night cleared, though, and after meeting the worlds funniest pug (Jennifer LoPugs.. Yes... You read that correctly. Check out the paparazzi photos she let me take of her, will ya? Too many important gigs to be caught in photos with me...) we ended the night with another nature lesson ("Dangers and Explosions"--I now know way too much about leaches...), and more campfire-ing. Oh, and grilled cheese (yum!) There may or may not have been some girly gossip in there too, and my cheeks might have hurt from all the laughing. But my lips are sealed.
I also almost wet my pants. Unrelated to the laughing.
Sunday morning = another polar bear swim (to combat the grossly greased hair sit-i-ation).
Then Poo volunteered us for CHURCH *eye roll* and after what could conceivable have been the longest bloody non-denominational service of my life (filled with what Poo claims were "grammatical errors" on the part of the preacher), we missed what possible chance we had of suntanning. So we headed back to camp for Caesars and cards (Old Maid). Followed by snacking. And napping. And snacking. And more swimming (and almost being run over by the Mugwump ferry boat and my mid-swim panic that I would drown in Lake Mazinaw), followed by subsequent napping and snacking.
Sunday afternoon we got nervous as new campers arrived in the site above ours. The gentleman brought a guitar and we had visions of his serenading us all night with replayed version of "Kumbaya". Although I was fully prepared to beat him with my marshmallow stick, he kept the droning to a minimum. We took a quick trip down memory lane and visited our old campsite, only to unanimously decide we could never go back to car camping after being on a premium walk-in site--the noise, congestion, children on bicycles, car alarms, and rowdy rowdies was almost overwhelming.
Sunday night FS wanted to go to the final nature demonstration ("Please to Mate-ya") where she managed to pick up (pictured left). We were totally impressed--just look at his biceps, will ya? Then Fingers took us back to the campsite for the worlds greatest pita pizzas and beer (and silly conversations about things like "am I drunk, or is there a daddy long legs on my face?") We capped off the night with dollar store sparklers.
Monday we packed up, and with muscley armed Poo and substantially less reserves, managed to cart our gear out in under an hour. I rolled my tent with about 1000 daddy long legs trapped inside, which will no doubt pop out at me all angry and sh*t this weekend. Tra la. Alls well that ends will.
We're super pumped to re-book for next year, but might be bold enough to try Sandbanks. Only 362 days left to plan...
