Saturday, March 25, 2023

Write or Die - Suffering Edition

This story was quite the mad dash to the end. I think I wrote the first 4 paragraphs a week or two ago and then threw together the rest in about an hour and a half on Monday (ie. shortly before our wring group met). 😳 

I decided to go with a more humorous take on "suffering" and the first thing that came to mind was a camping trip. As the shortest "Write or Die" story so far, calling it Microfiction might be more accurate! 😎

The topic for next month is Fools. Not sure if I'll be able resist writing a horror story where the protagonists do foolish things, like walking into a poor lit basement or wandering around a cemetery on a night with a full moon. I'm also considering quoting Gandalf. 





So this is what hell looks like.


I didn’t expect there to be so many trees. 


As I wipe away the blood dripping into my eyes, I contemplate the life choices that brought me to this moment.  


For some reason Heather had pitched the idea of camping - actual camping…in tents - for our girls weekend and, even more inexplicably, it garnered more interest than any of the other options. If you can’t tell, I wasn’t super thrilled. But hey, I’m a team player. I wanted to spend time with my girls, so I’d make it work. It’s fine. I’m fine. I thought it would be fine.  


The weekend actually started out well enough. The campsite Heather booked was truly beautiful, nestled comfortably in a medium sized clearing. While you couldn’t see the creek, you could hear it babbling in the near distance. It turned out to be an Insta perfect spot of water tripping over stones smoothed by years of wear. The leaves had just begun turning and rustled in the wind, creating the perfect fall ambiance. I love everything about Autumn, so it felt like a consolation prize for not sleeping in a bed for the next two nights. 


Speaking of sleeping, our tent situation was the first issue we faced. Since there were six of us, we decided on splitting up into two tents. I brought our three person tent and Heather brought hers, which was great until we discovered mine was missing the poles. My best guess is my boys repurposed them for some wild backyard project. Points to them for creativity, but it really screwed up our weekend. Also my bad for not checking the bag before heading out. 


Our next problem thankfully wasn’t my fault. It was Ashley’s…more specifically, Ashley’s husband. Ashley volunteered to buy groceries, but then at the last minute asked her husband, Joe, to make a run to the store for her. Unfortunately Joe packed for a hunting trip instead of a girls weekend, so when we emptied the bags they were full of mixed nuts, granola bars, oatmeal packets, a couple steaks (I assume he expected us to grill them?) and more Bud Light than six people should drink in two weeks, let alone 2 days. 


It’s fine. I’m fine. 


By the time we settled in, pitched the tent, unpacked the bags and suffered through a dinner of beef jerky and beer, it was time to call it a night. I volunteered (practically begged) to sleep in the car so the tent wouldn’t be quite so crowded. Allie decided to join me, opting to sleep in a reclined front seat, while I stretched out in the now empty trunk of my Chevy Suburban. Dawn was fast approaching when I finally fell into a deep sleep. I woke up with a start when Heather tapped on the back window, chirping “rise and shine!” like a sadistic magpie. 


Did I mention I’m not a morning person? 


The oatmeal packs actually came in handy for breakfast. Eating something warm definitely helped me shake the chill that descended upon the camp overnight. Allie suggested adding some nuts to our concoction, which helped spunk it up a little too. 


Our main activity for the day was to canoe a few miles down the stream, eat at a waterside cafe that, according to Heather, had received rave reviews on Yelp and then take a shuttle back to our campsite, where we’d planned to crash and drink wine before calling it a night. Lack of wine aside, everything else was still doable. Heather had arranged for the Riverside Rafting Company to drop off our boats shortly after breakfast, so after cleaning up, I packed a few necessities (sunscreen, bottles water and a few granola bars) in a fanny pack…I mean, my “Everywhere Belt Bag”...and headed down to the stream. 


There were far more people on the water than I anticipated, to the point of things feeling a bit crowded. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I guess, since the weather was basically perfect at 75° with a slight breeze. At first we were able to keep our canoes fairly close together, but as we moved down the river we got separated and I suddenly found myself alone with Karen and Meredith, the only two people who knew even less about camping than me. Serves them right for voting for this in the first place. 


At first we were fine, carefully avoiding playing bumper boats with the neighboring canoes and kayaks. Things didn’t really go south until we were overtaken by a rowdy mob of college age boys who were entertaining themselves by trying to tip over canoes as they passed. My best mom glare of disdain did nothing to dissuade them and before Karen could call for a manager, they’d rocked us hard enough to flip our canoe and our persons into the now fast running stream. 


I’ll admit to stringing together an extensive series of expletives, but I won’t share what they were specifically. Suffice to say they were offensive enough to make at least a couple of the horde blush, so that’s something anyway.


Our canoe moved away from us too quickly to retrieve it and, when it crashed around the next bend of the stream, we gave it up for lost. I noticed some other toppled canoers scrambling up a small beach and heading into the forested embankment. I figured there was safety in numbers, so headed in their direction, with Meredith and Karen trailing not far behind. Our pathetic group made our way slowly through the trees, trying to follow the river as best we could. At some point I heard what sounded like a very disgruntled squirrel somewhere deeper in the trees and was just grateful nothing larger seemed to be lurking nearby. 


After hiking along for what seemed like forever, we finally heard the sound of civilization over a small rise. Several people in front of us cheered, which was certainly encouraging. I called over my shoulder to the ladies behind me, letting them know we seemed to have made it to the cafe. As I turned back, I missed the branch stretching over the path that everyone in front of me had ducked under, smacking into it so hard that it knocked me off my feet. Meredith and Karen helped me up and we somehow managed to stagger the rest of the way to the cafe.


Wet, bloodied, hungry and in pain, I declared this trip cursed and dubbed it hell. When we reunited with the others, we learned they hadn’t fared much better. On the plus side, I was able to extract verbal commitments from everyone that for next year's trip we would enjoy a spa retreat in Palm Springs.   

 


 



~ Katie Q. 🐧


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