Camping. Why did it have to be camping?

My boys are both scouts.  This is my fault.  I took Joshua to the informational meeting when he was in first grade and he got excited and wanted to join, so I signed him up.  Little did I know that I would wind up get sucked into leadership.  It's like volunteer quicksand.  You agree, grudgingly, to one thing and you slowly sink in from that point forward.

I also didn't think about the camping aspect of scouting.  Once upon a time in my younger years, I think I enjoyed camping.  Now the idea of sleeping in a bag holds about as much appeal as a trip to the dentist.  I enjoy most of the things involved in camping.  Being outdoors?  Great!  Cooking on a camp stove or grill or even an open fire?  Fine!  Hiking around or hanging out by the camp fire?  Fun!  But when it is time to go to sleep I long for home, or at least a hotel room.  I want walls, temperature control, and a bathroom when I go to bed... not to mention wanting the bed itself.

But, since this has become an important part of my son's lives, I've learned to suck it up and camp.  Dammit.

I spent a good portion of Friday gathering and then packed the truck with the minimal amount of supplies.  I've learned what we really need vs. what I thought we might need.  Since you have to unload your supplies and, in many cases, haul them a good distance to set up camp, I keep it simple now.  Picked up the kids from school and off we went.  It takes about an hour to get to the scout camp from where we live, but we stopped off in the closest town for dinner first.  Shhhh... don't tell anyone that we didn't wait to eat in camp.

After dinner we headed up the mountain and... sigh...

... we made it.  Yay?

We checked in at the Admin Building.  Nobody calls it the Administration Building.  It's Admin.  I don't know who started the shortened version, but it has stuck.  If you say the full word, people look at you funny.

We got our campsite assignment and slowly drove the truck into the camp.  How slow?  The posted speed limit is 7 mph.  On a mountain.  I have not found a way to accelerate up or ride my brake down those hills at 7 mph.  If I'm coasting on the flat areas, which there aren't many, I can do it.  I spend that whole trip hearing, "Mom!  You're speeding!"  Who taught those kids what the numbers on the dash mean anyway?  Sheesh.

Along the drive we encounter this.

Someone who has pulled over to unload.  That would be fine if they pulled over in one of the designated PULL OFF areas.  Nope.  They blocked the road.  I will give them credit for unloading as fast as possible once they realized they were blocking traffic, but that's about all the credit I'll give them.

We got to our campsite and found an empty adirondack.  That is both good news and bad news.  The good news is that we don't have to set up our tent.  The bad news is that the adirondacks need to be cleaned before I'm comfortable using them.  Good thing I brought a broom and a can of Lysol.

Friday night there are no scheduled activities, so we just build a campfire and the kids run around playing flashlight tag or whatever else they come up with.  The one good thing about that?

They are exhausted at bedtime.

I'll be back with Saturday's adventures in a bit.