Bike Wreck

I figured I better start off my blog with the most exciting and embarrassing thing that’s happened so far this trip. First, let me preface by saying that we’ve been out now since last Wednesday, July 13th. We went a little higher into the mountains and dry-camped (meaning no hook-ups in the boonies) for 4 days, then on Sunday came down to check into Camperworld. Our plan is to stay until next Wednesday, 27th.
 

So, for today’s excitement. We have a routine most mornings. I sleep-in, while the girls watch a movie on the little TV/VCR/DVD player we have here in the camper. Then I get up and we dress, have breakfast, clean-up and do chores, then we’ll all go out and take Tye (my beloved dog that you’ll hear plenty about) out for a walk. But in our case, we ride our bikes and he trots beside us. He has to be on a leash and I’m really good about wrangling his leash and my bike. I really am good at it. I’ve only wrecked once and that was a long time ago.

So, this morning we’re riding along as usual and I decide to take Tye on what we call the Secret Road, which is just a road right outside the campground. It’s about 1/4 a mile long and it runs along the river and beside some mostly uninhabited cabins. We just like to ride down to the end of the road and turned around and a lot of times on the way back, the girls and I will race on our bikes. This time though Tye and I decided to race (it was his idea : ). So we come flying down this road and as we approach the point where it curves around and enters the campground I tell Tye, “It’s time to slow down. Whoa!” And to his credit, he does start to slow down, but I’m not sure what happens to me. It really wasn’t Tye’s fault. I don’t know if I panicked and hit my brakes, but the next thing I know I’m stopping way to o quickly and I kind of half go over the handle bars and half just go down sideways. However it happened, I basically face-planted. My t-shirt has skid marks all down the front (when Brinkley saw it she said, "you have dirty Boobies" - nice), my capri’s have a huge hole and blood stain on them. And though my knee, hands and elbow are hamburger, I bet many of you can guess the first thing I thought as I hit the pavement. . . . “I hope no one is watching!!” I jump up with lightening speed and try to look completely unscathed. My chain has come off my bike and my tire has twisted around so it’s perpendicular to my handlebars. But don’t worry. On first glance, I was cool as a cucumber. Poor Lily. Luckily she doesn’t witness the face-plant; she just turned in time to see me lying on the ground, wallowing in my wounded pride. “Mom! Are you OK,” she cries. I assured her I was fine. I somehow twisted my bike tire around so it was heading in the same directing as my handlebars, and hobbled back to my camper. Brinkley, who wasn’t riding with us, was equally as horrified as Lily when she saw my wounds. All I wanted to do was lie down on my bed and cry because I felt so sorry for myself, and then have Kevin patch me up, but of course he was at work. So I put on a happy face and cleaned myself up best I could and we headed to the pool. I hope Camperworld doesn’t hold it against me that I sat in the hot tub solely for the purpose of letting the chlorine sanitize my wounds and the jets clean the dirt out of them. But don’t worry, a lot of gauze, medical tape, Ibuprofen and a nice big scoop of Almond Joy ice cream later, I’m practically good as new.

Hello World!!!

"Hello World. I'm a Campaholic."

There, I said it, it's out. I basically cannot get enough and spend much of my summer in the Uintas feeding my habit. Lucky for me I have a very supportive husband, who is willing, whenever I get the urge, to haul me, my 2 girls, my dog and my camper up Parley's Canyon, through Park City and Kamas, all the way to Woodland. There, I'll park the camper and basically veg for weeks, while he has to get up extra early every day to commute into work. He says he doesn't mind, and he's happy I like to camp, but sometimes I'm sure he's gotta be either lying or out of his mind!

I'm not sure when it all started. I've camped off and on through-out my life. Always in a tent and mostly just a weekend here and there. When Kevin and I first got married, we tent camped quite a bit and really loved it. I guess the obsession probably started with our first camper. Round about the time our oldest daughter was born, back in 2003, we inherited Kevin's Grandparent’s camper. It was a 1974 Comfort Trailer, about 19 feet long, and super-filthy. It had been used as a tool storage shed for a while and when we got it, it was a mess, and I confess, I DID NOT want it. It was just too gross. But Kev had a vision, and within a month it was very clean, the cushions had been reupholstered and I'd made cute red and white checked curtains, and we were off on our first outing up Hobble Creek Canyon. And low and behold, we had HOT WATER!! Right inside the camper. It flowed right through the pipes and emptied into the sink, and I could do dishes without having to boil water on the stove. It also had LIGHTS!! Right in the ceiling. Flip a switch and they came right on. No flashlights, no lanterns. I was amazed. . .and hooked! Camper camping was the only way to go. I could store everything right in the camper, and when it came time to camp, just loaded up the food and some clothes and away we went.

Well, that camper (which will receive it’s own blog post in the near future) and I carried on a love affair for 5 glorious summers, each year camping more and more. Until the fall of 2008 when Kev decided he was tired of replacing pipes each spring, and dealing with all the problems that a 35 year old camper inevitably has. He wanted an upgrade. I did NOT support that decision, and parting with my beloved camper was a most unpleasant experience. Our new(er) camper turned out to be a 1991 Sprinter. Our bed was smaller, but we had our very own bedroom with a closing door AND a lock. The girls had bunkbeds with a dividing curtain, so we could tuck them away at night and still play games at the kitchen table and such. It even had a working bathroom, which our old camper did not. I confess it didn't take long for me to fall in love again. By now, we had purchased a Camperworld membership, and in July of 2009, I had a brilliant idea. What if I went up to the Camperworld in Woodland and stayed for a whole week, while Kevin commuted back and forth to work, which was about 45 minutes away. The girls and I could bike ride and swim at the pool and just hang out all day. And so it began. Each summer I do it more and more and I'm convinced there will come a time when I will never return home. That is my dream and one day it may be realized.

Kevin suggested that I start this blog to chronicle my experiences. It's really just a way for me to journal the sometimes exciting, sometimes boring day in/day out camping that we do every year. Feel free to read along and take a peek into this very simple, but fortunate life I lead.