My weekend began with a phonecall from Caleb. "We're going camping, wanna come?"
Camping? Camping. Of course. A tent, sleeping bag, campfire, hot dogs. Camping.
I loaded my supplies into the '73 two tone brown van with shag carpet alongside three skinheads, a camp counseloresque wilderness girl, a hippie, a singer/songwriter and a civil engineer.
My camping supplies? 3 pairs of short shorts, various wifebeaters, a hoodie, a Friday the 13th Tshirt (irony anyone?), a bikini, a makeup/medication emergency kit and a bottle of Early Times whiskey.
My idea of camping is a spot in the woods, you pay for it, it's cleared out, there's some form of running water, there's an outlet, there's perhaps a toilet within a mile. Their idea of camping includes climbing a mountian in the rain, chopping down brush with machetes and seriously roughing it.