Drivers in a storm
My girlfriend and others waited for our arrival. We almost didn't make it. The two and half hour drive should have been easy enough. The weather decided that easy, was not an option. The rain followed us from our home in Windsor Ontario. The time we made up speeding down highway was lost driving the rural roads outside Elora Ontario. We were lost. We dodged lighting bolts that seemed to crash beside us. We were losing hope until we spotted a church.
Looking for a sign
The muddy parking lot was packed with vehicles. We liked our chances, so we decided to walk inside and ask for directions. The irony was uncanny; Two lost souls, looking for hope. Inside we could hear a what could only be described as a cult speaking in tongues; that's what it sounded like. We had survived the frightful storm but feared something bigger: The potential abduction. Suddenly, getting directions didn’t matter. We felt like we were in the middle of Stephen King book and we sure weren't going to stick around to drink the Kool-Aide. We let the muddy fly and screamed down -and so did the car. We were looking for a sign, and it wasn't one we wanted from God. A road sign. In the distance, aided by flashes of light, a sign emerged. A stop sign and another sign; Elora Gorge conservation area and an arrow pointing left. We were close.
Water over the bridge
After checking in and receiving a map of the park, we started down the last leg on our soggy journey. We had one final obstacle. The "low-level bridge". I have heard the expression water under the bridge but the scene looking down from above wasn't too promising. The Grand River was flowing over the bridge instead of under it. How deep was it we wondered. We could see the guard-rails, so we took our chances. We slowly crept, the tires where half submerged, but we made it to the other side.
Soggy campers
After making several turns, we finally made it to our destination. Area H, campsite 469. On the road two girls splash in the rain, waving their arms. We pulled in and parked the car and ran for cover. Inside a ten-man tent a dozen people huddled trying to stay dry and warm. Staying warm was easy, dry was a bit of a challenge. The tent was taking in water. After we said our hellos, we decided we'd better set up our camp. There's nothing like setting up a tent in a rainstorm, but we did it. I was smart enough to find higher ground. Some of our friends, let's just say, a river runs through it isn't always about fishing.
Cornball
When it was time for supper we all went back to the same ten-man tent and waited. Outside under a tarp the man who drew the short straw cooked sweet corn. The rest of us stayed inside and waited for it to arrive. "In coming" he yelled, as he quickly unzipped the door to throw in a tin-foiled cob and zip it back up again. It was our first meal. I was glad I had my own tent because by the time were finished, that tent was all puddles and niblets.
The sunny morning after
The morning came and with it, the sun and more importantly the warmth of the sun. The girls huddled around the firepit begging for heat. The guys took care of the housekeeping. Soaking up water, corn and opening sleeping bags and covering cars and picnic tables to dry them out. Thankfully the Coleman stove was spared from the damp night, and coffee was beginning to perk. After breakfast the group decided to go to town. My girlfriend and I decided on other indoor activities which I will not mention here. We were young and in love.
Happy campers
When everyone returned it was time for group activities. The one activity I and my girlfriend didn’t appreciate was her sister unzipping the tent to catch us in the act. Our favorite activity was listening to Bad Company on the radio and throwing the Frisbee around. My favorite activity would happen later that night next to the fire. I had two things in the tent, my Ole’ Blue, Washburn guitar and a Coleman cooler with a mess of Molson Golden on ice. I was never that good at inhaling, so smoking pot never seemed to work for me but we did have one tent designated for reefer only and if you hung out in there getting high happened: It was a nylon hot box.
Really happy campers
The nighttime is the right time and apparently the right time, to get right out of your mind. I’ll just say that most of us were glowing brighter than the campfire. Liquid courage and dead batteries meant it was time to open the case, the guitar case that is. I played ever classic rock song I knew from The Eagles to The Who. I sat down on the cooler cracked open a beer and move on to the next song. It was around two in the morning and the cooler was close to empty, but I still had one last song in me. The song was, Won’t get fool again. I played three chords and then the smokies came in. We were too drunk or stoned to fight. I put blue in the case, put out the fire and snuggled with my girl in our love nest.
The morning after
I woke up to sounds of cawing crows circling the crime scene. I had a pounding headache and the need to water the bushes with last nights indulgence and I don't mean number one.
In closing, I will just say, this was a great moment of friendship, discovery and survival and probably why I now cannot drink anymore than one drink without my liver yelling at me.
You’re Not Twenty Anymore!
Comments
Post a Comment