Camping with the girls taught me a few things. Women can and will talk openly about damn near anything, our emotions are as fleeting as our conversations, we are more petrified of pooping in the woods than creepers stalking in the woods and no one, I mean no one, should ever assume, underestimate or doubt a woman.
Brandi and I finally made it to the site around 6pm on Friday. The other three girls, Heather, Jerrica and Whitney, had already started to transform the beautiful piece of land, into what we called home for the weekend. A fire was going, table set, citronella candles burning and yes, beers in hand.
Bugs. Everyone wants to know how we survived the bugs. Turns out, I have more in my back yard. Between the 200% deet bug spray always at arms length, tiki torches, citronella candles, Jerrica’s bug zappers and her briliiant idea to duct tape fabric softener sheets to the trees surrounding us (She saw it on Pinterest – we just modified it), we definitely west nile-ated the mesquitoes. Did you catch that. Oh yeah, there’s plenty more of those little made-up jewels.
While Heather was free-vagin’ it (I warned you) and preparing dinner that first night, we crowded around the table and like those that have seen the shape of Jesus in a cloud, we were in awe at what we saw. It was a sign that came in the form of cheese — our instincts that this weekend would be epic had just been confirmed.
We ate like queens the entire weekend. Full on camping buffet equipped with bacon burgers, summer salads, chicken, eggs, more bacon, sausage, even freakin’ toast. We ate hotdogs at almost midnight on Saturday, along with smores and motrin. The buffalo chicken dip didn’t stand a chance at making it home and the brownies lasted a hot minute because duh – women.
I never once felt like I was roughing it. Well, as long as I ignore the fact that we had no bathrooms around us. We were more prepared than a tweeked out, doomsday prepper.
Oh and the booze! I say that like I crack open a cold one while changing my son’s first diaper in the morning but honestly, I rarely drink more than a glass of wine at night. This was a pre-motherhood level of drinking. It was fabulous. It led to moments like this:
And of course this:
I’ve always known music can bring people together, but it truly is it’s own character in this story. From the time we arrived, the music was flowing. We learned so much about each other simply by taking turns playing our favorites from our own playlists. It’s amazing how many stories are attached to songs.
The music took us in so many different directions. And guess what? White girls can rap — like a boss! Perhaps the shots of caramel apple vodka were catching up to us but we could have battled Eminem that first night. We attempted to have a dance party but should have started it much earlier in the night. I decided backing it up in my chair was a way better idea than falling in to the fire.
Through out the weekend, we kept a question game of sorts going. Some we wrote down and threw in to a bag to pull out and take turns answering, others we just shouted out whenever we thought of them. Questions ranging all the way from the random “Have you ever been in a fight?”, to the insightful “Name two words to describe yourself.”, around to the “What is on the top of your bucket list?” and of course we had to get all deep with “When you were 10 yrs old, where did you see yourself in 10 years?”…still pondering that one.
I surprised the girls by admitting I broke a guys nose once with my foot. Who knew Brandi wants to go to space before she kicks the bucket? And I don’t believe any one of us still quite know why Heather felt the two best words, in all of the English language to describe herself with were, “Goat Farmer”. The two Moms in the group may or may not have peed themselves a little when she shouted that out.
We had a moment where shit got very real. We had creepers camping near us, who decided to sneak up on us. Let me just say,
I almost shit my pants I was not scared for a second. We may not look like a bunch of bad ass bitches but when these guys came creepin’, I don’t think they had any idea how prepared we were to take them out. We didn’t have a gun but between the knives and the hatchet…these guys were going to lose a body part if they took two more steps. Turned out all we needed to defend ourselves was nothing more than some good old fashion shit talkin’ and a show of force. Girl power, bitches.
Saturday, we decided to take a hike, since we were already in the woods and all. Despite a few blisters and slight dehydration, we were reminded of the beauty that is the Adirondacks.
I can only hope it wasn’t just the booze talking when we promised to make this a yearly thing. Being with a group of strong minded, funny, down to earth women – no husbands, no kids and no agenda for the entire weekend, was therapeutic. My body and brain slowed down and I laughed so much I don’t need to do crunches for a month (I don’t every really do crunches people).
Something else pretty amazing happened. I missed my family. That may sound shallow to some but the truth is, as a SAHM, I’m never really anywhere without them. Of course I appreciate and love them with every ounce of my being, but missing them, not knowing what they are doing and realizing that they can in fact survive without me, was a very healthy thing for me.
In between the food, drinks and laughter, I took little pieces of my own time to just sit and be quiet with myself. I think I managed to move past a few emotional glitches that have been gnawing at me. The river, fresh air and immobility was apparently what I needed to clear the fog away.
Sunday morning, we stumbled out of our tents
looking like we got hit by a bus refreshed and started packing up. In less than an hour, we were saying our goodbyes. As I looked back at the site, I couldn’t help but laugh and think, if only trees could talk. Thank you girls for being you. And thanks for not letting the bugs, the doubts and life get in the way of our weekend 🙂