Craig In The Woods...
3-31-06/ Around Sunset
I called Caddo Lake State Park (from now on to be referred to as CLSP) this morning at 8:00 when their offices opened to make sure there would be a camping site available for me. The lady said there was no availability all weekend long. To be honest, part of me was a little relieved. I automatically thought of people I could call in the Metroplex to spend the first part of my vacation visiting.
I then remembered why I decided to spend the weekend camping-- To get away from the noise. Neither Dallas nor Ft. Worth is a good enough place to do that, so I decided to not give up. I called different campsites at Lake O' the Pines to see if they had spots, which they did. LOTP is a beautiful place located just a few miles from Caddo on the other side of Jefferson. But nothing beats the mystique Caddo Lake has for me, so I called back to CLSP to see if they at least had a site open for Sunday Night. I would spend the first two days at LOTP and the last night at Caddo. The second time I called the secretary she said they did in fact have tent sites for the weekend. She previously thought I was wanting an RV site. So she signed me up.
My plan was to work until 1:00, go to see the Field's adoption ceremony, then jet. But the quietness called me and I could wait no longer. I left work at 11:00 a.m., was on the road by 1:00 and made it here around 5:00. (I took the long way to avoid small town cops seeing everything on my car that is expired.)
I'll write more about the journey here when the sun comes up. It is now dark and I am writing by the glow of a flashlight. I'd like to put the artificial light away and sit in front of the flickering embers of my hastily assembled campfire, on my camping chair I purchased today at the Bellmead H-E-B. (I'm in the woods, but I am in no way roughing it Thoreau-style.)
The East Texas crickets are making their usual heavenly racket. I have neighbors. A middle aged man and his young son probably age 5. This will bring grief to mind, I'm sure, for obvious reasons. But I will deal with it.
The plan: Sit here until I'm tired-- finishing the bottle of shiner and cannister of Pringles I've been working on. Tomorrow I'll wake up and go for a walk. I think there are some ETBU students down the path a bit. Perhaps I'll pay them a visit and play the "Do you know" game. The first book I plan on working through is Nouwen's The Way of the Heart: Connecting with God through Prayer, Wisdom, and Silence.
3-31-06/ Sometime between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m.
I am nowhere close to being New Years Eve 2003 drunk, but four bears in three hours will make you feel quite nice.
My fire kept dying when I wanted to stay up longer. When I was ready for bed it reached deeper into the density of the large logs and pulled a long sustained flame for longer than I could stand. I could have stayed up for hours more or I could have retreated to my tent. I chose the latter.
I prayed the famous prayer while look up through the tall cypress and pine-- "Lord I believe, Help though my unbelief." What a beautiful dichotomy. I believe but I don't and when I don't, help me.
Sometimes I talk as if I believe, but my heart screams otherwise. Help.
3-31-06/ probably around 10:00 p.m.
I almost fell asleep then had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I went out and urinated. Toward the end of it I realized I was holding my flashlight wedged between my chin and my neck and the light was exposing my weiner to anyone who would care to see. Four beers in three hours makes you do things like that. Evidently, it also makes you refer to your penis as a "weiner." I guess that's the science of the hops.
3-31 or 4-1/ Around midnight?
I had to get up to pee again. This time I was more careful with the light.
As secluded a place this is, I am still relatively close to civilization. There's a state highway less than two miles from where I am and I can hear the soft hum of car engines. I wonder where these people are going and coming from. Logging Trucks, perhaps. People coming home from using and being used. Maybe an emergency and they are trying to get to Marshall or Shreveport.
I hear the highway not because it is so loud, but because there is a circle of quiet around me. If it weren't for the air conditioner and television and hum of a dozen things electric, I'd probably be hearing cars all the time.
My tent is about 50 yards from the water and a stirring in the lake reminds me this is alligator country. I arm myself with the knowledge of a thousand Discover Channel Specials: That most animals do not attack unless provoked. I'm doing everything in my power not to provoke.
I called Caddo Lake State Park (from now on to be referred to as CLSP) this morning at 8:00 when their offices opened to make sure there would be a camping site available for me. The lady said there was no availability all weekend long. To be honest, part of me was a little relieved. I automatically thought of people I could call in the Metroplex to spend the first part of my vacation visiting.
I then remembered why I decided to spend the weekend camping-- To get away from the noise. Neither Dallas nor Ft. Worth is a good enough place to do that, so I decided to not give up. I called different campsites at Lake O' the Pines to see if they had spots, which they did. LOTP is a beautiful place located just a few miles from Caddo on the other side of Jefferson. But nothing beats the mystique Caddo Lake has for me, so I called back to CLSP to see if they at least had a site open for Sunday Night. I would spend the first two days at LOTP and the last night at Caddo. The second time I called the secretary she said they did in fact have tent sites for the weekend. She previously thought I was wanting an RV site. So she signed me up.
My plan was to work until 1:00, go to see the Field's adoption ceremony, then jet. But the quietness called me and I could wait no longer. I left work at 11:00 a.m., was on the road by 1:00 and made it here around 5:00. (I took the long way to avoid small town cops seeing everything on my car that is expired.)
I'll write more about the journey here when the sun comes up. It is now dark and I am writing by the glow of a flashlight. I'd like to put the artificial light away and sit in front of the flickering embers of my hastily assembled campfire, on my camping chair I purchased today at the Bellmead H-E-B. (I'm in the woods, but I am in no way roughing it Thoreau-style.)
The East Texas crickets are making their usual heavenly racket. I have neighbors. A middle aged man and his young son probably age 5. This will bring grief to mind, I'm sure, for obvious reasons. But I will deal with it.
The plan: Sit here until I'm tired-- finishing the bottle of shiner and cannister of Pringles I've been working on. Tomorrow I'll wake up and go for a walk. I think there are some ETBU students down the path a bit. Perhaps I'll pay them a visit and play the "Do you know" game. The first book I plan on working through is Nouwen's The Way of the Heart: Connecting with God through Prayer, Wisdom, and Silence.
3-31-06/ Sometime between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m.
I am nowhere close to being New Years Eve 2003 drunk, but four bears in three hours will make you feel quite nice.
My fire kept dying when I wanted to stay up longer. When I was ready for bed it reached deeper into the density of the large logs and pulled a long sustained flame for longer than I could stand. I could have stayed up for hours more or I could have retreated to my tent. I chose the latter.
I prayed the famous prayer while look up through the tall cypress and pine-- "Lord I believe, Help though my unbelief." What a beautiful dichotomy. I believe but I don't and when I don't, help me.
Sometimes I talk as if I believe, but my heart screams otherwise. Help.
3-31-06/ probably around 10:00 p.m.
I almost fell asleep then had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I went out and urinated. Toward the end of it I realized I was holding my flashlight wedged between my chin and my neck and the light was exposing my weiner to anyone who would care to see. Four beers in three hours makes you do things like that. Evidently, it also makes you refer to your penis as a "weiner." I guess that's the science of the hops.
3-31 or 4-1/ Around midnight?
I had to get up to pee again. This time I was more careful with the light.
As secluded a place this is, I am still relatively close to civilization. There's a state highway less than two miles from where I am and I can hear the soft hum of car engines. I wonder where these people are going and coming from. Logging Trucks, perhaps. People coming home from using and being used. Maybe an emergency and they are trying to get to Marshall or Shreveport.
I hear the highway not because it is so loud, but because there is a circle of quiet around me. If it weren't for the air conditioner and television and hum of a dozen things electric, I'd probably be hearing cars all the time.
My tent is about 50 yards from the water and a stirring in the lake reminds me this is alligator country. I arm myself with the knowledge of a thousand Discover Channel Specials: That most animals do not attack unless provoked. I'm doing everything in my power not to provoke.
posted by Craig at 6:58 PM
3 Comments:
"Lord I believe, Help though my unbelief." Who prayed that?
I don't think four beers is a good enough excuse to call your penis a weiner. I was laughing at that. A lot. Can't wait to read more.
You need to invest in one of those flashlights you can wear on your head. It's probably the best piece of camping gear I own.
Post a Comment
<< Home