Back to the Grind

The hammock was nice, the beer was cold, the trip was great. Until...

Coming home is always the hardest part of a vacation. This is often because it’s hard to return to the daily grind – work, school, daycare, whatever. Last night was no different for me. Not because I didn’t want to come home from our camping trip. Because Mrs. Translator was vomiting uncontrollably.

Yep. That’s right. Vomit has a way of ending events. I know from experience.

Vomit at a movie? Time to leave.

Vomit at the grocery store? Time to stop shopping.

Vomit at a restaurant? Time to stop dining there.

Vomit on a date? Time to find another date.

Vomit at the amusement park? Time to get another hotdog and try another ride.

Vomit on a camping trip? Wait a few hours to see if vomit recurs. Vomit again? Think about leaving the night before scheduled departure. Vomit a third time? Get Babygirl Translator and Girl Translator into the car and drive for two hours at midnight because Mrs. Translator wants to vomit in her own toilet, and let your remaining family break camp the next morning.

And who can argue with that? I got a nice warm shower at 2 AM, I got to sleep in my own bed, and I got a whole weekend of camping with no cleanup.

Awesome. It was just an awesome trip.

The view from one of our hikes.

Has anyone else had an interesting way to end a vacation? Can you help me translate?

Torture?

I need a little help understanding the language of camping.

Why do we camp?

I mean, do we enjoy torturing ourselves? Do we really like burning to a crisp in the daytime, and do we enjoy mosquito bites and sleeping on the ground at night? Do we enjoy cramming thousands of pounds of junk into our vehicles so that we can’t even see out the back window, then driving for hours and hours until we reach some dusty, bear-infested campground? Do we enjoy spending hundreds of dollars on giant packages of hotdogs, crappy cookies, and way more pop-tarts than we’ll ever eat? Do we really savor the fragrant perfume of campfire, sweat, and dirt?

Yes. Hell, yes. That's the whole point. I love it.

And perhaps we don’t mind this, either:

Rocky Mountain National Park (Click image for larger view)

My friend and I just got back from three hours of shopping for camping food. My brain hurts. But that's all part of the fun. We’ll be camping in Rocky Mountain National Park from Saturday until Monday.

Let the "torture" begin!

Can you help me translate? Why do YOU camp?