last year, for a third grade field trip, we took the children to this alligator haven. i did not want to go, but i did. my son wanted me to. and, i figured, i could throw a more deserving child into the mouth of an alligator should the need arise.
this is the level of insanity of the field trip. this photo was not taken with a zoom lens. this is literally me, taking a picture from the path we were walking on.
this is a different alligator. and how gross of him that he wants to hang out in such murky, disgusting water. really, dude, have some pride.
and, you know, i'd be walking along all happily during what i thought was an alligator-less area. then i'd see this:
they were everywhere. sometimes you'd just see the eyeballs. even looking at these pictures again makes me want to hurl. and when the scouts said they were considering this place as a possible campsite, i about had a cow. NO FREAKIN WAY, i replied to all. I HATE THAT PLACE. so, to humor me, they changed it from the big spring campout to just the arrow of light ceremony campout. um, am i stupid? you know, i have been lobbying for places like sam houston state park for eons. that's right, i would rather camp out next to the STATE FEDERAL PRISON than near a bunch of alligators. do they listen to me? no. they do not.
but it's okay. because camping for me was essentially ruined one year ago on my sixth scout camp trip at enchanted rock. i had figured some things out by this time. like, how to never go to the bathroom alone. on a previous trip, they had told us to beware of snakes in the bathroom. uh, come again? so not only do i have to wee-wee in a gross musty bathroom, i must also watch for SNAKES while doing so?
it was then that i started recruiting little girls to go with me to the bathroom. all under the guise of protecting them. and i never, ever drank water after 6 p.m. lest i wake up in the middle of the night. no amount of thirst is worth that terror.
so, enchanted rock....where do i even begin. i'll begin with the worst. we are on a nature hike led by a park ranger. we are walking down the main road, for god's sake, not even on a beaten trail. and we stop because there is a COPPERHEAD in the road. the boys are fascinated. the parents are quiet. me? i am about to hyperventilate and pass out.
a copperhead? that's a copperhead? what the hell? what the heck are we doing here? this is insane. i want to go home. i am having this running dialogue with anyone who will listen. and pretty much, no one is.
so the park ranger scoops him up and puts him in a cage in the back of his truck, at which time i zero in on the park ranger. what would happen if someone had been bitten by that snake? i ask.
oh, he replies all calmly, they'd have to be life-flighted to the nearest hospital.
oh, i think, well then why don't we all just go climb into a tiger's cage at the zoo. and it was seriously at that moment that camping was over for me. never mind all the weird night noises that only i seemed to hear. all the freaky bugs. the sleeping in a tent being pounded by rain. this was the straw that broke the camel's back: the copperhead in the road. and never mind that it was a baby. all that meant to me was that it had a mother and father somewhere in the vicinity.
there was also snakes hanging from trees. or, ok, the possible sighting by someone else of one possible snake in a distant tree -- but all i hear from that is "snakes are hanging from every tree." and letter boxes....good lord, the letter boxes. it seems that some state parks HIDE letter boxes in the woods with secret notes inside. and so my friend tracy takes it upon herself to find every last letter box -- in the RAIN, no less -- trudging through waist-high growth in the middle of the WOODS -- to find some secret note that amounts to "congratulations. you found it."
and again, i am the only one with a running commentary.
tracy, it's not worth it.
tracy. you have young children who need a mother.
tracy. it's not funny anymore. i hate this place.
does she listen? no, she does not. by the third day of this particularly hellacious camp trip, i was hating life. i was hating everyone who looked my way. i was tired. stinky. creeped out. thinking i was surrounded by utter and complete morons. because these same parents let their children crawl through crevices and caves at enchanted rock. yes, they did. and what more perfect place for a rattlesnake to hide than a cool, dark, damp place. so what better place to send your children through, right?
but here's the two best parts of that trip. because there always has to be something good.
one. my young son, on the way down from our hike up the enormous "enchanted rock," starts screaming at the top of his lungs: "I HATE THIS JACKASS MOUNTAIN!!!" did anyone NOT hear him? oh, believe me, everyone heard him. and if i hadn't been so giddy with exhaustion and terror, i probably would have been the slightest bit embarrassed. but it just struck me as extremely hilarious. because that is what kind of mother i am.
two. on the last day, i am waiting to leave. watching while it all plays out in slow motion, the likes of which you have never seen before. because my desire to get the hell out of dodge is directly related to how very s-l-o-w-l-y it is happening. no one is in a hurry. so i leave. and at first i am thinking i will just WALK back to houston, but it turns out to just be a walk around the park. in the middle of the road. watching very closely for copperheads.
and i am alone, and it is totally quiet, and right then a deer runs out right in front of me. it stops just feet from me, and i stop too. it is staring at me, waiting for me to move. we stared at each other for quite a bit. and then it ran off into the brush.
it's a small thing, really. but i will never forget it. it was like the universe saying, this woman needs a miracle. let's throw her a bone. it was one of the most awesome moments of my life. i could have stood there forever.
so, thanks universe, for that beautiful deer. for making it stop, to look at me. for making me remember the beauty and richness of the woods.
but hell if i am ever going camping again.
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