The Seahawks Camping Adventure Part 2

Dawn.

That's like, the start of some book or something, isn't it? Or...no. It's the start of some story some girl wrote in this writer's group I used to be in before EVERYTHING decided to take place on Wednesday nights. Sorry I took that. I mean, it WAS dawn. I guess. I wouldn't know, because it was a might bit cloudy. Nonetheless I forced myself out of my sleeping bag eventually. I didn't want to get up at first because I didn't want to wake anyone else up by exiting the tent, but once I got out that didn't seem a problem, because no one else showed their face till twenty minutes later. I had taken my journal out with me with the full intentions to write down by the shore of the lake. But once I set foot outside the tent, I regretted getting out of my warm sleeping bag. It was freezing outside. At least, to a little, very cold-natured person like me, it seemed like it. I thought I would just sit in one of the chairs around the fire pit for a moment and then go down, but it seemed after a while I was rather stuck to the chair. "Well," I thought, "I'll make it down there tomorrow, perhaps."

I believe what was supposed to be a journal entry about the beautiful environment turned into something more of a reflection about something I cannot remember, and then I began to write about the sounds around me...the crows, the ducks, the bird's songs, the hum of RVs. It seemed as if the Seahawks and all associated beings (namely Marck and Mr. M) were practically the only rustic people around, or at least on that particular campsite. It makes me wonder...what's the point of camping if you're in a house on wheels? And can you really call it camping? I think camping is radical (as Mr. F/Coach [same person, fyi] was saying what it meant last Wednesday), and RV camping is NOT radical. It is probably fun, but not as much fun as REAL camping.

As I said before, 20 minutes later I was joined by some members from my tent, Lizzie and Sarah. We wondered why Rachel hadn't gotten up yet, but then figured it probably took her a while to go to sleep. So we sat there talking in hushed voices and being cold, before we all concluded we were starving and needed to get inside the suburban to get to all the food. Lizzie (yes, that's a link back there...on "Lizzie", to be exact) went into detail about that, so basically once we got in, we stuck our store bought Starbucks frappeccinos (sp?) in the cooler, ate some yogurt, and as other people got up, we began a game of Apples to Apples. By the time all the adults got up, practically everyone was playing. I mean, all the kids. I believe by the time we were done, we had exhausted all our red cards, or nearly so, and I think that's why we stopped. Then Nathan, Rachel, Lizzie and I resumed our game of hearts over some coffee. There was a bit of a dispute over whether the younger members of the camping party (anybody 13 and under, or anybody "not a 15-18 swimmer") should get to have coffee, especially special coffee. They had no need to wake up in the morning, they just wanted it because it tasted very sugary. Anyhoo, then there was a dispute about people being left out of hearts, so everyone got coffee and no one played hearts. Instead, I went to go wash up, and when I came back, everyone was eating pancakes!

I don't know how that all happened, because I don't recall being gone for that long, but it seemed like everyone was already in the possession of a pancake, wolfing it down, and going for seconds. Mrs. M was slaving away at the camp stove (can't be so rustic as to cook pancakes in a cast iron skillet over an open fire, I guess...). I went up with a plate and got some bacon Sarah had cooked, and a little pancake. I buttered it, and tried to pour the syrup over it (I say "sehr-up", not "seeur-ip"), but only a few drops came out. I suppose I should declare the news: Seahawks swimmers are now officially notorious syrup hogs. Sorry to say it, but it's quite true.
I at that pancake and went back to get one more small pancake. They were delicious, for the record. If you're going camping with someone who makes pancakes, go with Mrs. M. They are simply succulent and delightful. Bring extra syrup, though.

Nathan and Rachel's mom, dad, and sister, Hannah arrived after a while, and it was then decided that we should all put on swim suits and head down to the water. Marck and I had brought our little $10 Target volley ball especially for a big, unstructured game of water polo. The Seahawks are very big on water polo, by the way. So it became keep-away water polo with no goals, which was fun for a while, till we all got tired and got on floaties. Nathan and I got these two special floaties and named ourselves king and queen over the waters, and the ball was our royal ball of power. Joel was our faithful knight on his noble steed (a light green floaty), who was temporarily banished from the kingdom for accidentally handing over the ball to the enemy. He came back thought, and Nathan and I tried to arrange a game of Floaty Polo, but that fell through, really. The moms seemed to take to the idea for a while, though. I believe Mrs. H would start a Floaty Polo league if given the chance.

After about an hour and 45 minutes of swimming, Lizzie, Marck, Nathan, Joel and I decided we were hungry again. So we went back up to the campsite to eat some leftover hotdogs, potato salad, slaw, and macaroni salad. I was a bit disappointed that everyone seemed to take to the "Southern Style" potato salad more than the "American" potato salad the night before. Yes, my first thought was...isn't the South part of America? Even when we were the Confederate states, we were still in America. So really it should have been called "Yankee Style" potato salad. I didn't even know potato salad existed outside of the South anyway, like iced tea or barbecue. Okay, well, a little discovery has been made by yours truly. They DO, in fact, make potato salad, iced tea and barbecue outside of states considered "Southern." BUT...there's a catch. They don't do it right. They can't. It doesn't taste, look, or feel like it should. It is wrong.

So what was left of the "Southern Style" potato salad (which was yellow...thank goodness) was piled on top of the nearly full tub of the "American" potato salad, and I managed to scrape the last few bits off the top, while only getting a little of the American style. By the way, I might as well go and mention that store bought "Southern Style" potato salad STILL doesn't taste exactly right, because it's really made by those Americans over there, with their wrong potato salad and wrong iced tea and wrong barbecue. Gosh darn it, they can't do anything right!!!

Well, enough about potato salad. I believe I've had my say in THAT matter...anyway, Nathan and I got dressed because we figured we wouldn't want to go swimming again till four or five. Plus, I reasoned, if Matt, Kara, Sean, Rachel, Trissa, Torin, Coach, and Mrs. F did actually end up coming at some point of the day, I didn't want to be all swam out, because surely they would want to get in the water for a while. So we played Skip-Bo (or whatever that game is called), and I believe somehow that was when I first met Bubba the Italian Mob Trucker. You see, Joel is a Todd in the making (yes, that's a compliment...). I mean that by how he does voices and makes up characters with names to go with them. He has Lenny...and now Bubba. Lizzie explains a bit about that on her blog as well, considering she is a very proud big sister of this improv comedian in the making. :P

After lounging around a bit and playing a lot of Taboo (my kind of game!!), we went down to the water and sat on the edge. Lizzie and I talked about how it was late, and the F's probably weren't going to come. We sighed and frowned for a while, before Lizzie had the sudden inspiration to go ask at the Marina if they rented jet skis. She and I walked back up to gather passengers. Nathan and I almost convinced his parents to let me drive his dad's BMW, but alas, no. So we had to settle for my minivan. Nathan, Lizzie, Sarah and Joel came. We parked in 5 minute parking and went inside to the little store, where somehow a Snickers bar came into my line of sight and I simply HAD to buy it. I told Lizzie she'd better ask quickly, but she wasn't feeling like being outgoing or something (...homeschooler...), so I asked the lady at the front counter when I purchased my irresistible treat. She said they didn't even have jet skis there, much less for rental. That was rather disheartening. Anyway, after that we rode up to the gas station and looked for Aloe for our poor sunburns. No such luck, but Joel tried on all the sunglasses, Nathan discovered he wears aviators very well, and I suggested we should buy more marshmallows in case we ran out before the night was through. Everyone thought that was a very unrealistic fear, so we went back without the marshmallows. When we arrived back at the campsite...it was time for dinner!

More hotdogs.

Well, the kids fixed themselves hotdogs, as I believe we should put it, and after that was all done, the adults came up (finally THEY were hungry...) and said, "Oh, yeah...we have hamburgers and salmon burgers, by the way." By that time, I was full of more hotdogs and more American potato salad, so Alec and I decided we would split one later.

After a while it started to rain, so we all sat under the canopy that was the J's but looked like the absent Y's canopy from the meets last year, and we played "Mafia." One of those Seahawks traditions...Mafia in the rain. After the rain died away, Lizzie and I were able to go down to the shore of the lake, sit on the fallen trees and watch the sunset. We talked about many things, and we definitely agreed that if both of us didn't marry, then we'd have to get a house on a lake together, with lots of boats and a couple jet skis, and then go out every morning on kayaks, go sailing in the afternoon and jet skiing in the evening, with lots of swimming in between (for we would have a 25 yard pool in the back yard, of course), and do yoga after breakfast and fun things like that. Money didn't really enter the conversation. I suppose we could babysit for all our siblings and friends who got married and had children, and get money that way...still, I would like to get married someday.

When we got back, after the last purple stroke on the canvas of the horizon faded away to black, we discovered, to our horror, my worst nightmare had come true. There were only two marshmallows left. Lizzie got one, I got one, and we each got one s'more. Lizzie, I hope, repented from her evil ways and now will go with my instinct when I say we should really trust it.
I managed to get very sticky AGAIN. We played Twenty-Plus Questions for a long while. I even guessed, and got Mr. J's when he was doing "Idea." I felt very proud of myself. I usually just sit and listen...not my kind of game, really. So I did "Music" and after a while Alec guessed it... :) Then we split our hamburger, and after a while we all got sleepy and we went to bed. Rachel was a bit upset that it was even earlier than the night before.......

--Jessica