Pictures circa 2009 when we were still a family of just four. This is an old post from my Facebook Notes (remember those?) and back when this blog was barely getting twelve hits. Hoping for more than that today 🙂
We’d been planning a fall break camping trip for weeks and the plan was to get some chores done at home over the weekend and wait to begin our trip until Monday. That way we could camp on Monday and Tuesday, play in the mountains, visit the pumpkin patch, do some hiking, roast some marshmallows….it was going to be fun. Just the four of us communing with nature (and every public toilet and latrine around since preschoolers and pregnant women have no concept of “hold it”).
On Sunday, after a consultation with weather.com (really, how did people plan before?), Joshua made the suggestion that we head on out since the weather was so nice, but rain was moving in tomorrow. Didn’t look too bad. We figured if we set up in the dry, we could weather the drizzle.
Except a drizzle wasn’t the forecast.
Camp was set up, all was good at Andrew’s Cove, just north of Helen, a picturesque USFS campground with a rushing creek, awful push-pedal potties, and plenty of sites to choose from because apparently others were wiser than we. We trekked over the mountain to Hiawassee for firewood and a forgotten can opener, decided to treat ourselves to The Deer Lodge since the hamburger meat was still frozen in the cooler, and then spent the evening roasting marshmallows, drinking hot chocolate, and listening to James Taylor, thanks to the only other brave souls in the campground. We all went to bed by ten, the girls actually went to sleep (I read them the only book I brought, Anne of Windy Poplars), and we rested pretty well on our new air bed, only waking once to venture outside for reasons I have mentioned before.
Then, 6 a.m. came. At first it was a pitter-patter. Kind of pleasant. Then a steady sprinkle. Not too concerned. By seven, it was a deluge and no longer were we high and dry. The tent had begun to leak. The girls had woken up antsy for pop-tarts. And I couldn’t figure out how to cook canned biscuits on a camp stove.
We gave it up. Ran for the van and came home. By 8:30 we were having hot showers and the coffee was perking in our own cozy kitchen. Ahh…now this is a vacation.
Except that it’s now 5:57 in the evening and Joshua has had to go back and break camp in the rain. Oh, well.
For all my posts in this 31 Days series on Living Local click here.
Come back the rest of the week for links to our favorite North Georgia (and a little further but maybe local to you) camping spots and a post on the 10 Things you shouldn’t miss if you’re ever in a certain Alpine Village that’s up this way.