Camping Heather Arrives.

We went camping this weekend. Meaning, I also did. I, Heather Jolley, am a camper. I am one who camps.

When I was 12 years old, I went to Girls' Camp for the first time and slept in a tent and hated it so much and cried every day and night and whined and begged to go home. One time, my leaders thought I was asleep but I wasn't and they all talked about how terrible I was. I used to think badly of them for doing that, and now I am older and I get that I really was being pretty terrible, and they just needed to vent about it.

Anyway, somehow I, being a majorly indoorsy girl, married my husband Dan, who is one seriously outdoorsy guy. And slowly over time, I have become more outdoorsy, and I realize that I have been missing out. 

We had a great time camping. We went to World's End State Park, about two hours from our house. We set up camp, wandered around, cooked dinner and went to bed. The next morning, we completed a 2-mile hike. It was short enough for the kids but also challenged them a bit.

 At the end, we met this beautiful waterfall.

We came prepared to swim but the water was freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezing. Dan would not be deterred though. 

Dan also made some amazing grub in his dutch oven while we were there. We had chicken enchiladas, smores, french toast casserole, and hot dogs in the short day that we were there. Everything was delicious.

There were some rough moments. Namely, the nighttime. Beck was so excited not to be in his crib, and he would not go to sleep. He loved walking around and poking all of us tired, cranky old people who were trying to sleep. Dan took him to the van and tried to get him to sleep out there, but it didn't work. Dan got crazy angry at him. This also didn't work. Beck always wins. 

There was a great swimming creek by the campsite. It was much warmer than the waterfall we tried to swim in on our hike. At the swimming creek was a small waterfall/natural slide the kids love going down. The kids' bodies would fly down the waterfall, zipping past every single rock until they cascaded down the bottom. Dan begged me to try it, so I finally did. Except with my mother-of-four-hips, there was no zipping. No, no, zipping was quickly replaced with BONKing. I felt my bottom hit every single rock down the waterfall. 

They kids cried when we left the campsite, begging to know when we would return. "Soon," I promised, because I actually enjoyed myself. Heather the outdoor enthusiast! Just call me Bear Grylls.