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Short stories: Camping

by Nanette Piotrowski

Created on: December 16, 2008   Last Updated: December 01, 2010

All my life I had been wanting to see the Rocky Mountains, so my friend Robert and I made plans and preparations for my life-long, dreamed of trip.

I had a 59' Plymouth wagon that possessed bald tires and bad ball joints, just to name a couple of its handicaps. In this vehicle, we were about to embark on a 2,000 mile journey?! I mentioned my fears to Robert and his answer was, "Have no fear, Robert is here!" We borrowed a tent from Roberts brother, packed up some things, loaded up my kids and headed out.

Things were very uneventful across Nebraska; the car performed like a champ and so several hours later, Robert brought to my attention that we had been going steadily upgrade. Ahead lay wide open sky, full of fluffy clouds and I exclaimed at the beauty of it all. I asked how long before we would see the mountains. Robert pointed to my "fluffy" clouds and said, "Those are mountain peaks." Oh! My! I stared with 'new' eyes at the panorama in front of me and the majestic mountains way off in the distance which seemed to fill the world.

We travelled on, the car laboring as we started to climb. We decided to set up camp on Dillon Lake, so we unpacked things and proceeded to lay out the tent. I looked around but could not see the tent poles. Robert had insisted on packing the car, making the statement that a woman can't pack a car correctly. I made mention of the missing poles and all I got was a snarl. We repacked everything, to much grumbling from the kids and made our way further up the mountain.

We came to the town of Breckenridge where we stopped for supplies. The power was off in the large foodmart and it was interesting trying to find things by flashlight using a store employee for a guide. I solved the problem of missing tent poles by purchasing clothesline rope and mentally hoping that the trees would be cooperative when we reached our camping area.

We had climbed another 15,000 feet before we found the perfect spot. Robert gave me one of 'those looks' (reserved for 3yr. olds or adult idiots), when I uncoiled the clothesline and produced a wicked looking knife and cut the rope into appropriate lengths. Then using rope, tent loops and the trees, erected the tent. A little sway-backed perhaps, but it would do. I couldn't resist arching an eyebrow at Robert and saying, "Have no fear, Nanette is here!"

My four children; Mark, Sue-z, Debbie and Brian, were already scampering and exploring before I could caution them to the dangers. Wood was gathered, rocks were

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