Sleeping at Gates

Sometimes life’s metaphors are too much. It’s hard to tell from these pictures that life was busy reminding me to not enjoy it too much. 2017 has been an endless string of trials and tribulations and any weekend we can we desperately try to get out of dodge. So we made some plans and put our heads down all week to make it to Friday. We convoyed with our friends to Uhwarrie National Forest late on a Friday evening in November. We’d worked all day, I drove around, did errands, packed, prepped, gassed up and barely wrapped all that up before 7pm and it was time to hit the road. The drive was pleasant. Only about 2 hours to our destination and then we were golden. We were relaxed on the road but really ready to be there.

Our first mistake.

We showed up to a locked gate at the entrance to the National park. Something we hadn’t considered since the campground was deep in the national park. It was about 9:15pm and our options weren’t exactly obvious. We circled back to find another way in, to no avail. We examined the lock. We looked for numbers to call, there was none. Our phones were lacking signal to even make a call anyway. We were parking for the night. Easy for Neil and I, not so for our friends who were going to have to make car camping in the cap of their Tundra work since their tent was meant for the bed of the truck.

We wake up at our parking lot campsite to see the gate was open now. Then the real shit storm came. We drove deep into the forest and eventually found our site. I was driving the van, I really had to pee, Neil was in bed still. I was again… just ready to be there.

I hit a short camp pole with the van trying to pull into our space. Dented up the door real good, tore off a plastic piece, fucked the paint up. Ya know. Not even enough cell service to call Geico.

 

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