Very dusty around here.
Lots of white sheets on top of furniture and a crusty old servant hobbling around with a pretty worn down candle in a thread bare uniform mumbling to himself.
So, Where do we begin.
The july camping trip to Deep Creek Lake State Park in Maryland, not the Md. I am used to btw. the hilly, hilly western Md. right next to the West Virginia border. A gorgeous but taxing drive that pushed my little truck to the edge. That experience plus last years fiasco where I developed Pneumonia had me sweating this trip right up until we hitched up and left on Sunday.
The week before our trip I tied up almost every lose end on the camper to the point where I was cautiously optimistic. First step was getting to the Cape May Ferry and crossing over the bay to Delaware. Last year the Ferry ride was so choppy that some safety switch in the trick was tripped so when I started the car I got some crazy clicking noise, the ferry crew was busy jumping various cars and didn't seem to concerned, I on the other hand was a wreck, you have to realize that unbeknowest to me pneumonia was settled into my lungs ready to strike.
This years ferry ride to Delaware was footloose and fancy free! I had a very stiff bloody mary that I shared with Danielle and we both were really into it and feeling the buzz.
We pulled into Assateaque State Park, signed in, pulled into our spot and set up. Things went very smoothly until………. nothing really everything went very smoothly, if you are looking for the dramatic crash you're not going to find it here.
What you will find is a list of some of the wackiest campers we have ever camped with, ever.
As we were setting up there was a lot of other campers doing the same. Directly across from us was a couple of sights setting up tents and we could tell right away they were going to be fun to watch. One sight had an old station wagon filled with stuff and out came Gandolf the Grey. This man was tall, at least my height, 6'3", very slim with long, long grey hair where he still had some and a matching beard or equal length. He had an entire troop of odd balls with him, all very nice mind you but odd nonetheless. On the adjoining site was a very old, and kinda crappy looking camper van that held and older guy with a very monk like look to him with his old lady. That thing looked like it was going to fall apart at any second, like all 4 wheels pop off, windshield crack and all the doors fall off if the wind blew to hard.
As we were driving to our spot we passed a really beat up pickup truck with a camper top on it, This truck had more bondo and primer paint that metal at this point. The kicker that really set this truck apart was the two gigantic paintings on either side of the camper. Both were large paintings, not painted directly on the camper mind you but painted on panels that are mounted to the camper. The scenes were of some badly painted lady near hot spring or some babbling brook some complete and utter dreck like that. This guy is probably in his 60s his trucks plates are from Hawaii and he just bounced around from site to site the entire time we were there. I saw him most of the time sitting on top of his truck in a chair watching the sun rise. I bet his story is pretty fascinating.
Quiet hours at Assateaque are 10pm to 7am during this time you turn off your generator, keep it to a dull roar and chill. The mornings are quiet as you can imagine but around 8am you hear some people stirring, maybe some bike riders, perhaps the braying of the ponies. On Friday morning I was awoken from a very nice sleep to the sounds of the oddest Euro trash pop. It was 7:30am and this music was being pumped out of a rented motorhome. Outside of the motorhome was a handful of 20 somethings. They were dancing around, smoking a lot of cigarettes and running back and forth to the beach. It was an odd sight, made stranger by the continual emergence of people coming from the RV. They were Eastern European I don't know exactly where, they were an attractive group seemingly having a terrific time.
At 8:30 they all headed into the motorhome and they left, the music gently fading away.
I thought this was it. A loop of misfits that were a blast to watch. Then over the weekend a family pulled into a neighboring spot and out pops a girl i'll say around 15years old. Her main outfit was thigh high cowgirl boots something black top and bottom, painted on whiskers and a painted nose and clipped to her hod die was a little fox tail. This is what she wore on the beach or not. A lot of work to go sit on the beach.
This trip was make or break for me regarding the camper. Last year was such a cluster fuck that I didn't want to go this year but I knew from the beginning that this trip was something special. Overall this trip was fantastic the girls have grown up and are veterans at the beach so much so that Thira has earned free reign. Lucia has grown up and no longer needs any special attention. We are entering a great phase of trip with the girls.
Great quotes from this year.
Lucia: "There is sand in my buns."
Lucia, after the water hit her chest: "Oh, so cold, my boobies are cold."
Lucia, while I'm holding her in the surf nervously saying: "Let's get out of here!"
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