2008 Woodie Awards
Nature's call
Sarah Mann
Issue date: 4/22/04 Section: Humor
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Comment on this articleIf that kind of fun sounds appealing, one of the best times to huddle around the campfire is in the spring, when the temperature is cold enough to want a fire and warm enough to make one.
The biggest, and possibly only, advantage of camping is the smore. Smores, for the uninitiated, are wonderful snacks consisting of toasted, or often burnt, marshmallows and chocolate bars sandwiched in graham crackers. They are only made correctly if the height of the smore is greater than the opening of the mouth. They are good enough to be illegal in some states; they probably should be considering the mess they make.
I find marshmallows are one of the few foods I can roast successfully, which means without setting my hair on fire. Unfortunately, in my jubilation at this discovery, I forgot not to wave the ember-laden marshmallow stick around and almost set the forest on fire. Well, maybe not the whole forest, but that would make a better story. If according to Smokey The Bear, "only I can prevent forest fires," we all may as well go home and hose down the lawn ornaments.
One danger many people tend to overlook when enjoying the campfire is sharing the woods with critters other than Smurfs. While I have yet to run into a random opossum or humpback whale, I have found myself assaulted by an owl. Maybe assaulted is the wrong word, but I think when lumpy wet matter falls from the trees above, the discovery of this not being water would make anybody a little huffy. That owl owes me a new T-shirt.
Of course, the worst pests one encounters possess six to eight legs. I do not know how mosquitoes ever survived without my blood; they seem to prefer it to everyone else's juices. I have tried several different bug-repellents, but all they do is make me smell like dirt. I can tell these chemicals are ineffective if I hear tiny little voices laughing as I spray the repellent on. Sometimes they form a buffet line.
After feeding oneself with Food and Drug Administration certified junk and defending oneself against vampire insects, the best part of camping is sleeping under the stars-if they are visible. Most of the time there is so much light pollution that to see six stars and two airplanes is a treat. Strangely enough, wishing on stars is better than wishing on planes. I find wishing on airplanes creeps out the passengers.
With this scenic ceiling, it must be easy to fall peacefully and deeply asleep, right? Not exactly: scientific studies prove no one can attempt to sleep outside without nature calling exactly five minutes after lying down. However, when nature has been satisfied, comfort becomes a problem. The ground is too rocky, the crickets too loud, the pillow too flat, the tent on fire, etc. If and when sleep is finally achieved, be aware, nature never sleeps in. As soon as the sun comes up, the need for relieving oneself comes strong and fast: nature thinks it is hilarious to call at weird times of the day.
My suggestion after all this fun is to run back into the dorm or house as soon as the fire is extinguished and the equipment improperly repacked. That is why camping only happens every few weeks, if that. People have to forget how much "fun" it was before they are willing to subject themselves to it again.
Sarah Mann is the humor columnist for the Omnibus and can be reached at FraggleSarah@hotmail.com. She suggests anybody who wants to camp "Sarah style" should open the window, close the screen and watch a movie of people roughing it, like "Pride and Prejudice."
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