My hands are soft; my back is weak, and I hate the outdoors, even though all that's true guys go through about the same life cycle after their twenties. First, there is the half marathon (a whole if you aren't already fat), then there is the stupid building hobby, and then in the final stage, there is camping. I got tired after the first stage but Curt continued on and one day texted "want to go camping?" I'm a fucking idiot, so I said sure.
At first, we thought about hiking to a campsite but decided to do what is called backwoods camping. Backwoods camping is for overweight 30 somethings that think they are tough, and it was perfect for us. You walk about 200 yards into the woods, and they have a beautiful area for you to get sore in sleeping on the ground.
I'm not a tent man, mostly because I am poor. Instead, I set up a hammock with a little covering and a mosquito net. I was extremely proud that all my stuff had fit into two small bags. I was set up and ready to die in the woods, but Curt had other ideas.
The Boy Scouts have a mantra "Always be prepared." Curtiss took this to it's extreme. He brought:
Trip One:
1 Tent
2 Chairs
Trip Two:
12 rubber flooring matts for his tent.
1 beer cooler
Trip three:
A queen size blow-up bed. Pump for said bed
lamp
grilling equipment
Trip Four:
2 giant plastic Rubbermaid containers full of supplies
Trip Five:
1 Rubbermaid container
1 sleeping bag.
I was starting to lose my shit after trip two and Curt was starting to have a heart attack, but we managed to set up the Curtiss Tent Estate within a couple of hours. Then the rains came.
Being the outdoorsman that we are we were all terrified when our phones simultaneously screeched a severe storm warning. Curtiss retired to the west wing of his tent which luckily had a re-enforced bunker designed by Eddie Bauer. I other the other hand hung between two trees blowing in the wind wondering how smart it is to hook your bed to two lightning rods in the middle of the thunderstorm. In the end, I came to terms with my inevitable death, wet a rope and strung it over to Curt's tent and laid down knowing at least he would die with me.
The lightning didn't kill either of us, and the only side effect is we can no longer feel happiness. Unfortunately, the fear centers in our brains were left unaffected by the strike. It was now well past midnight, and since the rain let up, I figured it was a good time to take a piss. I crept out of my hammock and made walked into the woods looking for a good spot. In one of the TWO bags I brought I had a headlamp I was using like a complete asshole to light my way through the woods. I pulled out my ding-dong, and I began to finish the job the rain had started. It was mid-pee that I saw six sets of glowing eyes staring at me no more than twenty feet away. You might think that I zipped up and ran, or made myself large and intimidating, but instead, I froze and peed harder. Thank God my ding-dong was already out. My brain knew wolves moved in packs, but it had no idea they were so tall, their eyes almost even with my own.
They were toying with me, not moving, or growling, just watching my pee flow at full strength. I stood there frozen for another ten minutes with my dang-dang flapping in the wind before I realized it was deer. As I headed back to my hammock Curt's front porch light came on as he stuck his head out to ask if I was ok.
Needless to say, the two of us have no business in the woods...we are camping again in two weeks.