Camping At Three Forks, Part 3

I was happy to see my friends had made it safe and sound to the campsite.  I have to say, I was getting lonely in the woods all by myself.  I took my voice recorder to record a show (coming later) and I talked for a short while…only to learn that my batteries weren’t as good as expected.  Even then, I felt a little stupid talking to myself in the woods.  Sure, I could say that I was speaking to some armadillo or raccoon in a tree somewhere, but truthfully, it would have probably been a mountain lion instead.  That’s another reassuring thought!

We arrived at the campsite and started setting up.  Like the Thursday before, I became a little pissed at myself while putting the tent together.  It had only been two years and I had already forgotten how to put it together.  I helped my friend put together this awesome tent on the back of his truck.  He found a tent online that allowed him to place it on the bed of his S10 pickup.  He had assembled boxes made from 2×4’s and plywood that created a raised bed.  On top of that was an inflatable mattress.  How cool is that?!  After helping them, I went back to my own tent and completed.  I had it all in the back of my mind.

After getting our abodes completed, it was time for supper.  Man oh man, I knew they were bringing things to cook, but I was in for a surprise.  When they began to empty the cooler and other bags, I saw an entire kitchen.  A tenderloin, grits, peas, butter, cream, salt, pepper, and the list goes on.  I felt bad because I had brought some sliced oranges and some sugar wafers!  GO ME!  I took out my Jetboil® and Joe took out his stove and Clark put together the grill.  We finally got a fire started (after using a half bottle of lighter fluid) and sat down for a relaxing evening.

To say that dinner was good would be lying.  The other two thought the tenderloin was a tad dry.  I thought it was…perfect.  Hey, when there is free food, you don’t have any damn room to talk about how or what was prepared.  You kiss the cook (hehe) and say many thanks.  The fire continued to blaze and eventually, at least one of the campers got warm enough to disrobe….completely.  I was not that camper as I was a bit cold and comfortable in my jeans and fleece.

After a few beers and talking for a while, we all piled into our tents for the night.  I was alone…shut it!…and ended up in the tent with the guys and fell asleep comfortably.  I was comfortable, that is, until around three or four in the morning when my bladder was screaming at me relentlessly.  I had to get up and take care of things.  Being thoughtful of the guys, I said I would just sleep in my tent the rest of the night.  I climbed into my tent and into my nice warm sleeping bag.  Not long after, I opened my eyes and started listening to the creek.  The sound was mesmerizing.  It sounded like a continuous rainstorm as it rolled over the rocks and down a small waterfall.  It’s funny that I use the comparison of the sound to a rainstorm because within a few moments, one drop of rain hit the tent.  Then two or three hit.  And then, there came the rainstorm.  Of course, as much as I was praying to not get any rain that night, it was not to happen.  It rained from around 5am till I sat up at 8am.

I am not the know-it-all camper and have never professed to be one.  I think I have an advantage over many other men who have never been camping in their lives.  Saying that, I must not have checked the proper closure of my tent earlier in the morning because there was a puddle of water at the foot of my tent.  Thankfully, it did not get on my sleeping bag.  I would have been ROYALLY pissed.  The water, however, did get into the unsealed bag containing my new FTL thermal underwear shirt I had bought on the way up there as I knew how nights in the mountains became cold.  So much for me staying warm during the rain.  I carried on with getting my tent down and putting everything away on the inside.

Just so that we could say we took a hike, Joe and I walked down the road a piece with the dogs and then walked back even wetter than before as the rain picked up during our walk.  When we arrived back at the site, we changed into dryer clothes and took down their tent.  I walked to the campers not far from us and asked if there was an easier way to get to civilization.  She said. “Just go down this road here and when you get to the intersection, take a left.  Make sure you take a left, now!  Keep going and you’ll pass a church and shortly after, the road turns into pavement.”  Well, I’ll be a one legged cheerleader trying to do a split.  After all the muddin’ the day before, there was an easier way to get to the site.  I thanked her in my southern gentleman way and told the others.

We left the sites, turned left at the intersection, then passed this country white church (what other color would it be?) and then reached pavement.  Hallelujah, there was electricity and houses every now and then, and other cars driving passed us.  Where were we going?  My Tom Tom® had said, “You are on your own, big boy!”  After a few miles, we reached a gas station where a pretty little country lady told me how to get to Dawsonville, and I once again said thank you in my southern gentleman way, and we left, not stopping again till we reached home.

I know by this time, you are all thinking I could have wrapped this up two postings ago, but I really love camping and getting out in the backwoods of North Georgia.  Hell, anywhere pretty much!  I love it here because it’s not as flat as South Alabama, but I call both my home now.  I can’t wait to get back into the mountains!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *