Wherein a slighty overweight, slightly older, slighty out of shape guy finds that it was really God's plan to keep him from being embarrassed by attempting a 19 mile hike that he could have done when much younger, but should train a bit before trying and, in the process overcomes intense greif and emotional suffering
Much has been said about the "Incident" and its gruesome aftermath, so I'll only note it in passing.
I also used this trip to test my new cookset, on which I've already reported here.
But there is an even more chilling incident to report on, from which I am only just recovering, thus the lateness of this report. I've had several nights sleeping fitfully with nightmares and flop sweats from which wake screaming out in emotional pain and anquish and have just now screwed up enough courage to relate to you here today. No pictures are provided lest you suffer the same fate as I.
Planning for this trip began in happy ignorance of new rules established by the Forest Service restricting on trail camping during deer season, about which there has been some comment on this Forum by yours truly and bears no repeating here.
Spaceweaseal and I left his house in NW Houston and spent an enjoyable 30 minutes or so discussing internet purchase policies versus cash with a young lady at Costco before setting out on the road. As has become our custom, we arrived a bit later than anticipated because we elected to take an alternative route. Thats our story and we're sticking to it. When we arrived we found a pleasant and helpfull staff at the Park and campsites that were nicely laid out and decently spaced so that campers are not jammed up cheek to jowl with the adjacent sites.
We found Caveman and set about choosing trees, with one poor choice being made, and were just about set up when Uncle Mike and Texas Longhorns showed up followed closely by mortonjl. I got my HHDJ and hex tarp set up close to the picnic table and fire ring
Caveman set up just off the trail to the lake
While Spaceweaseal, he of the several trees, set up his bridge near a recently fallen tree
Spaceweaseal also showed us his new BIAS Micro
The folks in the neighboring campsite had a bit of a different idea of hammock camping
As dusk approached, I attached my Swiss Army mummy bag liner to the prusik on the ridgeline and deployed the Hennessy Hex
Hiding what lurks in its dusky depths
Pleasant chap that I am, I had happily planned to provide my comrades in camping with a bounteous dessert serving of muffins cooked in my bake set. By this time EastTex had arrived and the number of people who needed muffins exceded my ability to bake enough in one try, so I had to do two bakes. Much curiosity was displayed with my baking impedimentia, particularly with my silicone pot grabber.
I finished my first batch of four muffins, which were met with many appreciative utterances and congratulations. I then prepared the next two, set them in the baking pan, and went down to the lakeside to wash some equipment. As I engaged cheerily in my labors, happy that I had provided my compadres with enjoyment and sustenance, a scream came out of the darkness from the direction of the cooking site. I rushed quickly to the location so that I might render aid.
That's where I found them. Murdered Muffins. Dashed on the ground in thier unbaked youth, never to have the chance to wash the tastebuds of appreciative campers and rest comfortably in their gullets. Short culinary lives cut even shorter while still warm batter.
The horror. The horror.
I'm sorry----the pain of the memory is too much to bear. I'll have to complete this report at a later time---------