Calico's out in the high desert, just past Barstow. The campground is not much to look at, mostly hard-packed dirt, rocks and a couple trees (not in our sites). But the mountains surrounding it are gorgeous, and the wildlife is pretty cool. (And once again, the foxes stole a loaf of bread!)
I thought these were really big quail--they were actually partridges. And there weren't even any pear trees around!
I was very excited to try out my new tent and double-high air mattress on this trip.
Home sweet home.
Mark still worried that my tent has no rain fly, but I explained that I don't need a rain fly because if it's rains, I'M GOING HOME. To my warm, enclosed house. I have nothing to prove to Mother Nature--the first time she rains on me, I'm going home. End of story.
The tent was AWESOME! The description and accompanying video swear you can set the whole thing up in under a minute. Because I'm not the most advanced camper and because I'm bad at almost everything, I convinced myself I could probably pitch the tent in maybe 10 or 15 minutes. But the tent lived up to its hype--I honestly had the tent assembled and ready to go in less than a minute. BEST. TENT. EVER.
Not as impressive? The wimpy little tent stakes.
Yeah, those stakes and that little rock will keep this tent grounded.
I'm sure they work just fine in grass, but there's not one blade of grass in Calico. I wasn't even going to bother with the stakes, until I remembered the crazy wind that sent all the tents flying last year. So I improvised--Calico doesn't have grass but it has plenty of big boulders. I chucked the stakes, and carried in a bunch of giant rocks, distributing them around the tent floor.
Stop judging. My tent did NOT fly away, so this was brilliant.
The troop spent the afternoon hiking to some nearby caves, which meant all the boys and most of the adults were gone. I briefly thought about joining them, then laughed at that silly notion and set out my chair instead. I spent a quiet afternoon with a good friend I rarely see anymore because of my hectic schedule--my People magazine. I tore through four issues before the boys came back--it was an unexpected luxury.
I ventured up to the boys' camp around dinner time to take some photos.
Scout camp.
The Scouts were preparing their meals when I interrupted a discussion on hygiene.
"Use soap and water to wash your hands," one boy told another. "Don't use hand sanitizer!"
"It's all the same," the second boy retorted.
"No, it's not!" the first boy said. "Use soap and water. You're making burgers with your hands--we don't want them to taste like hand sanitizer!"
I was suddenly grateful we had our own cooks down at the adult camp.
Young boys and a full-size propane tank. Nothing to worry about, here, right?
Turns out the boys weren't making just any old burgers--they were making "manburgers." They distributed about a pound of beef to each boy, who then shaped it into a giant manburger. I wondered how long it takes to grill a manburger (hopefully not as long as a hobo packet--Mark once created a monstrous meatball that took over an hour to cook!).
After they ate, the boys cleaned up. They were trying to hurry, so they could go into town, but I watched as a steady stream of boys trickled past our camp. One unlucky guy, Dan, had a nosebleed, which traumatized him a bit. Another boy walked by carrying something long and heavy. An adult leader also saw him and immediately boomed, "What is that and why are you carrying it?"
"I dunno," the boy shrugged. "I just found it."
Turns out it was a thick metal pipe, as tall as the boy was, painted and filled with cement. It fit snugly into the ground by the bathrooms, a barricade to keep cars from backing into the building. I can't believe that kid carried that heavy thing as far as he did--and I have no idea what he was going to do with it if he'd gotten it up to camp!
The leader then decided to check on the boys, to make sure "no one was lighting anything on fire"--a very real concern. Always an adventure, Scout camping.
After dinner, we followed the boys into town. There weren't any of the crazy characters that usually roamed the town--no big tall guy, or sneaky chainsaw guy. I was a little bummed at that--my favorite Calico memory is of the chainsaw guy stalking and scaring my friend Karen. :-)
The boys skipped the dance this year, instead heading over to the saloon. It's a little unsettling to see them all in the saloon, moseying up to the bar and downing dark bottles of root beer, rubber band guns at their sides. It's what I imagine the Wild West would be like if had it been tamed by Boy Scouts.
I returned to camp exhausted, but got a great night's sleep on my new double-high air mattress. I felt like a bit of a diva, but since I woke up happy and well-rested, who cares. The only problem was that I put the tent and mattress up so quickly, it was on a bit of a slope, and I almost rolled off the bed at first. (I caught myself quickly since a double-high mattress + falling three feet onto rocky, hard dirt = PAIN.)
The next morning, the Scouts packed up their tents and cleaned the camp in record time. Seriously, I don't know what got in to them (maturity? experience? the lure of In N Out burgers for lunch?) but the whole place was packed and ready to go by 10 a.m., a new record. We ended the camping part with a group circle, where the boys and parents all named one thing they were grateful for. Food was a popular choice, as was the time spent with family and friends. One Scout looked pointedly (OK, accusingly) at the older Scouts, and said he was thankful the big boys didn't wander off trail this year, and that they actually finished their hike to the caves. But my favorite was Dan, who said he was thankful he didn't bleed out from his bloody nose.
After finishing the thankful circle with a laugh, it was on to rocket time!
We drove down to a nearby dry lake bed to shoot off the rockets. Mark broke off two of his rocket's wings when he packed for the trip. He then sat on the rocket, bending the nose and breaking off all the other wings. He also managed to glue the parachute into the nose, so by the time we got there, his rocket was both a mess and a danger. The troop leader refused to let him fly it.
Menace to society--the rocket, I mean.
"It's too dangerous," he told Mark. "It'll come down at us like a missile." That is, if the engine didn't burn through the parachute and rocket first...and come down at us as a flaming missile!
Since Mark had engines, the leader lent him another rocket, so the trip wasn't a total loss. Besides, it was fun to watch the other boys. They'd get the whole group to count down from 10, then they'd launch the rocket, while the younger boys raced down the lake bed to catch it.
Scouts warming up--they were ready to chase down those rockets.
Lift off!
The race to catch it before it lands with a thud.
Dan and his brother realized a little late that the rockets don't come assembled. Poor kid sat on the cracked, dry dirt with a million little rocket pieces before him, looking kinda sad and lost.
But Scouts look out for each other. The older Scouts quickly assembled his rocket, forgetting only one minor piece--the parachute. We watched Dan's rocket soar straight up, and everyone cheered. Then they gasped, realizing the parachute didn't open, held their breath, and watched as the rocket turned down and shot back to the Earth even faster. I realized then what the troop leader meant about Mark's rocket turning in to a missile.
The rocket crashed into the ground at breakneck speed, and the boys cheered even louder. They ran to retrieve it, and brought back a dented, zig-zagged rocket. The nose had a new Z-shape, and looked a little like a lightning bolt. They boys excitedly asked if they could launch it again. One leader said no, the other said "Tape it up straight," and two minutes later, it soared into the air again, and then into oblivion somewhere out by the highway. No one could top that, so we decided to leave on a high note.
Mark and I returned home filthy and tired, but happy. Although we spent most of the trip in passing, we both had a blast. Mark got to be a grubby boy, playing in the dirt with his friends, and I got to hang out with the cool Scout parents. It was an altogether awesome trip.
No comments:
Post a Comment