Camping

Last weekend, the Chesapeake Bay Children, their friends and I went camping over on the Eastern Shore in Cheriton, which is almost directly across the Chesapeake Bay from Mathews.

Actually, the town of Eastville is directly across the bay from Mathews, and many moons ago folks from Eastville settled in Mathews and called the town Westville. Who here besides Chesapeake Bay Woman is wondering how a story about her weekend camping trip has already gone so far off course?

Anyway, Cherrystone Campground in Cheriton on the Eastern Shore is on the Chesapeake Bay, almost directly across from Mathews.

The shot above was taken from our campsite. It was lovely, really.  But see all that sand?  That wasn't so lovely sprinkled all over the tent floor and was not nearly as comfortable to sleep on as you might think, unless you're thinking that it would feel like concrete and then you'd be correct!

CBW, always with an astute eye for detail, did not bring anything that would aid in the removal of said sand, because she was only focused on those bare essentials that would fit (along with 4 teens, a tent and their belongings) in the back of her car.

Oh, and on the topic of essentials?  Evidently CBW considers sleeping bags and blankets to be nonessential. Or rather she brought some but not enough.

CBW realized this when she awoke Saturday morning (with sand ground into her face, thank you very much) and noticed that Chesapeake Bay Daughter's friend was wrapped up in a beach towel.

This, of course, brought back her own fond memories of sleeping wrapped snugly in a vinyl tablecloth on her 1977 cross country camping adventure with her own dear family.

On Saturday, the day after The Storm which I'll discuss in a minute, the children went kayaking. Here they're headed for that delightful spot of pristine beach--the very same stretch of beach which has two large, imposing, intimidating No Trespassing signs.

Below is the tent.  This is the same tent that almost blew away Friday night in The Storm.

Everything looks so calm and serene here, doesn't it?

Belows is what the sky looked like Friday evening.  In spite of the ominous looking clouds, CBW cheerfully made a campfire and sat down to relax as she watched lightning flash far off in the distance.  As far as she could tell the storm was headed north and was hugging the eastern side of the bay.

Then she went to sleep.

But not for long.

At about 1:30 a.m. she awoke to the sound of an oncoming train howling winds and a screeching daughter, who was hovering over her trying to explain that the rain cover had come loose from the back side of the tent.

CBW ran bleary eyed outside to grab the rain cover and hold it down.  Only problem was she could not let go of it in order to locate the hammer and stakes to secure it. So there she stood, being pelted by rain and barely able to open her eyes due to the oncoming wind.

Just about this time, as she's standing in the dark in the middle of a storm, her camping neighbor came over and hollered that her campfire (which she swore was out before she fell asleep) was raging out of control.  Then he hollered for his wife to help with the rain cover.  He tended to the out of control campfire, and the wife held down the rain cover while CBW went groping around in the dark, windy night looking for her ruby slippers so she could wish herself back home hammer.

It takes a village to salvage a CBW camping trip.

CBW (who amazes herself by using the third person when discussing traumatic events) staked down the rain cover, thanked the neighbors profusely and raced back inside where she and Daughter and Daughter's Friend held down the front of the tent with the weight of their pools of tears bodies.

Meanwhile, the teenaged boys never opened an eye.

But they successfully held down their corner of the tent.  Teenagers.

The wind raged and the storm howled and CBW cried finally things started to ease up a bit.

Then, after what felt like five minutes of sleep on sand as hard as concrete, the sea gulls started squawking and campers emerged from their travel trailers all rested as if nothing happened.

In fact, the next day it appeared as if nothing had happened.

Unless you count nearly being blown away and almost catching the campground on fire nothing.

This concludes the nightmare highlights of our weekend on the Eastern Shore.

The End.