Today, a sampling of an email sent to me by my good friend Markus. Not to just me, actually, to most of our friends. I have no idea what brought Markus to write this little chapter of our lives and then send it on to most of his friends (including some people I do not know, by the way, but will forever apparently be thought of as “walking UWSP banner”, of this I am certain.) I’ve changed the names to the pseudonyms I use in this here diary, so long time readers won’t be confused.
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From Markus’ email:
This morning, when I came out of the sleep deprived coma I was in, I awoke to a feeling I haven’t had in awhile. As it has been pretty nice weather lately I left all my windows open last night. The brisk, early morning, dew saturated air had turned my apartment into a veritable refrigerator. As I walked around the house closing the windows, shivering from the lack of heat, I was reminded of a camping story you may find amusing.
Esteban, Weetabix and myself had gone camping one Memorial Day weekend not too many years ago. If I remember correctly, we had arrived at the campsite the night before. It was dark and we had a new tent…a cabin-style tent with which we were not familiar. Trying to match the color-coded pieces of pipe in the twilight hours was an effort in futility(Esteban knows what I am talking about).
When we finally erected the tent and turned in for a night of slumber in the crisp clean air, little did we know what we would awake to. Our slumber was broken by the sounds of the loons on the lake, crying their song or perhaps it was voicing irritance at the chill in the air. I remember that we could see our breath in the tent. Right then we all knew this was not going to be a good day.
After getting up and stumbling around the campsite for a few minutes we all agreed that we needed, not wanted but needed, to go into town and get something hot to eat and drink. The morning ritual began. We proceeded to throw on the warmest clothes we could find although it wasn’t helping as much as we had wanted it to. Weetabix was in the tent getting ready and when she came out of the tent, I had no way of knowing or way of being prepared for what I was about to see. (Bet I have your attention now huh? wonder where this is going? hehehehe)
She was garbed in the most interesting attire. Weetabix had forgotten to pack any jeans or other long pants. She was wearing hiking boots and wool socks, pink long johns, flowered Bermuda shorts, several t-shirts, a UW-Stevens Point sweatshirt, a vest, hair tied back topped with a UW Stevens Point baseball cap. Now, that is itself is enough to draw some attention but Weetabix has a very interesting and funny sense of humor.
She planted her feet, threw her arms up in the air and said…”OH MY GAWD, SHE’S DRESSING TOTALLY STUPID”. At this, I proceeded to launch the soda I was drinking out of my nostrils and broke into what seemed like a life-threating laughter. Yes, you all have seen me do that but this one topped all the others.
As I kept from trying not to pee my pants, I managed to escape the pending doom and calmed down enough to gather my senses and we went into town to get that hot breakfast. When we walked into the diner in Manitouish Waters it was as if the patrons were frozen in time. They had all looked up from their plates and cups of coffee to see the three sorry looking blokes who had walked through the door. The had a stunned look on their faces, probably in no small way related to the UW Stevens Point walking banner that had entered their diner. A feeling of wanting to dissappear right at that moment took over but then I realized that I was still dang cold and needed something hot to eat.
Breakfast lasted for what seemed like an eternity that morning. So on this cold morning, I reflect on days gone by and I have to say that I would do it all over again just to have the memory of the UW Stevens Point-attired friend emerging from the tent.
It was well worth it Esteban and Weetabix, I will never forget that weekend. Now I’m putting some coffee on because it is friggin’ cold.
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Ok, for the record, I don’t believe that I actually had a vest on. I believe that the warmest thing I had was my turquoise UWSP sweatshirt, but Markus’ has it pretty exact.
That was 9 years ago people. That was Memorial Day weekend, 1992. Esteban and I were just two months shy of moving in together. I had just scored my first tour of duty at my current employer, to start the week after that weekend. I was getting away from my psycho roommate (and still innocent of the hell that she would inflict upon me over the summer to come).
And yet, even 9 years ago, camping sucked. But I was younger then, not even 21 yet. And it still sucked.
See. No good can come from camping.
The good people of Manitowish Waters have still not recovered.
Neither has Markus. We are all scarred for life.
No good can come of it.
