Camping 101: A Former Blonde's Survival Guide

Here it is. Our tent. I am a self-professed non-camper. My best friend, Kylie, camps like every weekend. Why? What did you spend a small fortune on your beautiful home for, if only to leave it and go stay in a house of cloth and to shit into a large hole?

Insert: 3 children. I can tell you, honestly, that I love these children with every fiber of my being. I would do anything for any one of them, but seeing as how the opportunity to get a moment of sanity is few & far between, we do not currently shit money, and we are stuck watching Mother Goose rhymes all damn day, camping seemed like an oasis. I mentioned to the hubs that I would like to go. We quickly sold a kidney, and bought #allthecampinggear.

Here's the funny thing: we fecking loved it. I had forgotten what quiet sounded like. I forgot what it was like to pee by myself. Mind you, I was suspended over a hole of shit, but still, I was alone. I forgot what it was like to eat a large hunk of bloody cow instead of mac 'n' cheese. I forgot what it was like to have sex without a dog nose in your ass or the threat of a child banging on the door mid-coitous.

Our adventure was not without funnies. Please enjoy this photo-heavy post. If photos annoy, then get the hell off my blog. Otherwise, please enjoy. I will narrate along the way.

Tent went up, beers came out, clothes came off.

Our campground at West Chicago Creek was breathtaking. Aspens & evergreens in every direction. 

That beard tho. He just looks like an outdoorsman. You should see this lumbersexual chop wood with an ax.

"Honey, take a picture of me relaxing. It never happens. It needs to be documented."

Bob Ross paints mostly by computer these days, but since we were going into the neeture, he decided to pull out his oil paints and paint something outdoorsy. He quickly scrapped this after putting too much paint on the canvas, and then some mozzies got stuck to it and died.

I would like it to be noted that I said we should wrap these gargantuan steaks in aluminum foil. Camper Joe thought this would be fine. False. After burning our $16 hunks of cow flesh, we wrapped them in that aluminum foil, scraped the black off and soaked the steaks in balsamic vinegar to help with the dryness. Corn was great though.

I don't have a picture for what I'm about to tell you, and for this, you are welcome. I peed on myself. I was too lazy to make the walk (100 feet) to the shit hole to pee for the 51543213 time since we had arrived at camp. "I do squats everyday, so I can squat & pee like a boss." Turns out, I can squat. I cannot squat while peeing. I stood up chuffed with my peeing in the forest abilities, only to realize that I had pissed all over my pants, camping socks, and tennis shoes. Shit.

I quietly walked into the tent, made no mention of my accident, changed clothes and sat down next to my husband. Sorry, babe. Please still have sex with me.

Yeah, I curled my eyelashes. I also contoured. Get over it. Just because we're camping, doesn't mean we have to be ugly.

If you've never camped before, Pinterest. You can find anything you need from homemade camping bug repellent to camping menus. Once we decided to go camping, I made a Pinterest board dedicated to all things camping. I was going to eat like a queen & I was going to look cute, dammit. These amazing campurritos were premade at home. Scrambled eggs, hot Italian sausage, potatoes, & cheese. Wrap in a large tortilla, wrap that in foil, store in cooler. Heat them over the fire and you have a tasty dish ready to go. Also, coffee because those birds wake up really f-ing early in the woods.

I learned how to use the timer.

I want to get married right here. I realize I already did get married, but like, if we renewed our vows or he didn't survive the zombie apocalypse and I had to remarry, it would be right here. And if you bitch about the trek to get here, you don't get to come to my wedding.

I had to remind Josh that he needed to take pictures of me to prove I was there. Also, you can't see it, but I have a giant hole in the thigh on my left leg, but I'm unwilling to part with these sexy yoga pants because they are so comfortable.

I may look cool AF, but as soon as the shutter opened back up, I was choking like a mofo. I'm so sexy.

That ax. Ok, so, we found out that I am really good at one thing: foraging. I mean, I can find sticks, twigs & tinder like a BOSS. Josh: "So, you pick up sticks really well?" Ass.

So, there were two dudes in the campsite next to us. They left shortly after breaky, so I wanted to see if they left us any good firewood. I found a huge piece of wood, and just beyond their firepit, was that sexy ax. I carried it surreptitiously (it's a real word, you moron) so that Josh didn't see it immediately. He was chuffed with my firewood find and had not yet seen the ax. I quickly swung it over my shoulder & his eyes bugged. "It's cool, babe. I just foraged this ax for you. NBD."

For you, KyKy! Yoga + Beer

If you camp and you haven't made this, you're doing it wrong. Garlic toast with spaghetti in the middle. A PMSing woman's dream. Also, follow it up with s'mores. 

"Who knew I would love nature so much?" Truly. I'm surprised myself. I like my AC, my Starbs & my creature comforts, but I was like a pig in shit out in Idaho Springs. I cannot wait to go back & take the circus. They will love it. I think we'll need more alcohol though...


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