No Effort Camping

This is what you call 'no effort camping.' On Sunday, Nick, Mike, and I hiked five miles, did a river crossing on a log, and got caught out in a thunderstorm. On Monday, Nick and a friend took their scooters out for a four and a half mile run while I walked slowly behind them. On Tuesday, Nick and I took another friend out to a tennis court to noodle around. This friend had never played tennis. Just baseball. He made quite a few home runs. I need to pick up more tennis balls next time I'm out. Wednesday was an ordinary karate and walk day. Thursday, we met some other friends at the pool because it was raining. Friday, we had a picnic at Grass Lawn Park with a friend Nick hadn't seen in a long time, his oldest friend, but since she had changed so much, he was suddenly shy. He's changed a lot too. 

And today, we biked for just seven miles on a late-afternoon jaunt. Then, we had dinner at a restaurant where they know us, and then we came home. 

That is not the end of the story. 

"Camping?" you were asking.

Yes. Camping.

On tge front lawn, Mike built a fire in our LL Bean fire pit and we each roasted one old marshmallow. I burned twigs in the fire pit while Nick built himself a shelter out of sticks and cedar boughs. 

Now, we're each set up. Nick is in his shelter on two sleeping pads with a small pillow. He declined the sleeping bag Mike offered. Mike is on a backpacking Thermarest and in my bivy sack with the 25 degree Kelty.  I am on my Lafuma recliner in the zero degree Kelty. I'm a bit warm but it's cooling off. It's supposed to get into the fifties later, cool enough to discourage mosquitos. 

Earlier, I saw our bats cruising for bugs in the twilight. There's a high cloud cover, enough to minimize dew fall, but not enough for rain. 

The red blinking beacon across the valley  denotes civilization in the far distance. I don't think, after years of living here, that any of us really hears the road noise from our highway. Sometimes I wonder where those people are going. I like wondering. 

Mike is quiet now and Nick coughs occasionally. A dog is barking in the distance. I'm hoping our owl will hoot or the coyotes will howl. Both Teddy and Seth are safely tucked into their beds inside. The dazzling sunset is over and twilight dimmed after 10:00 pm. 

And I am here, looking at waves of clouds slowly moving across the sky. Boughs of cedar are silhouetted against it and a jet moves ahead of its own sound. When the moon rises, it will be full. 

Thank you for listening, jb