Occasionally, I like to go camping by myself. Sometimes it goes really well, other times… not so much. Over Easter weekend I went camping at Deception Pass State Park, and it went… alright (said in a high pitched, reassuring voice). The park was beautiful, like anyone who has ever been there will tell you. The trees, the water, the rocks, the bridge… it was all there. The sun was even shining for Pete’s sake.
I arrived a little late in the evening, and I (ignorantly) assumed there wouldn’t be many campers. Ha! Joke’s on me. By the time I got there, two sites were available. Initially, I thought three sites were available. I gleefully set up my little tent and all my gear, happy to have found a “secluded” spot in the midst of all the campers. I was lying in my tent when my wonderful brain was examining the image of the sign from memory and I realized the crease in the paper was exactly where the crossover would be in an 8 instead of it being a 0, like I had originally thought (Did that make sense?). Basically, the site I was in was actually reserved. Annoyed, I knew it was too good to be true. I thought through my options of playing dumb and hoping that the campers wouldn’t show up for their reservation, or packing up my gear at 10 P.M. and hoping one of the other two sites were available. I decided not to be an asshole (or sit anxiously waiting to feel bad when the people showed up for their site), and moved. Thankfully, I know my tent well and didn’t bring a lot of gear. Within minutes I was packed up and moved into another site that was, ya know, right in the middle of the campground. But at this point, I couldn’t care less because it wasn’t by the road, and I wasn’t sleeping in my car… yet.
On the drive over, I realized I forgot my sleeping pad, which adds comfort yes, but more importantly, puts distance between me and the cold ground. With temperatures getting down to freezing, it was too cold for the gear I brought. I put my blanket, towel, and scarf under my sleeping bag, but it didn’t help much. By 4 A.M. my body decided no more and wouldn’t fall back asleep. After peeing in the trees next to my tent because I had no f-ing idea where the bathrooms were, I climbed into my tiny car with my sleeping bag and blanket wrapped around me. I laid that seat back as far as it would go, curled my legs up on the dashboard (I’m fairly tall), and slept soundly for the next four hours. Best decision I made all night! Turns out when the car is short and everything inside is close together, it makes a flatter surface to sleep on than a taller car. Way to be Bluebelle ❤
I had planned on going on a hike the next day, as it was absolutely beautiful, but couldn’t quite get myself down the trail. Instead, I sat on the beach, wrapped in a blanket, ate my breakfast and just enjoyed being outside in the sunshine. That blessed sunshine that is so rare during Pacific Northwest winters. Also, I ate McDonald’s breakfast two hours later because I was hungry from shivering most of the night. Go ahead and judge me! I don’t care…that much.
Moral of the story: good times happen even when things aren’t perfect, and you aren’t as prepared as you thought. Also, being outside is important.