Knowing in advance that we would be leaving our campsite behind the next morning we took full advantage of all the "emmenties" the site has to offer. The morning was spent lounging at the lake and, what seems like, in our radically altered conception of hygiene, an excessive amount of bathing. Having learned early on that the hill leading from the lake to our campsite was a killer, we tried to plan well and bring up or down all our supplies at once. Since waterproof sunscreen seems possible only in advertising we both ended up scorched, Isaiah on his back and me on my shins. (I must say, though our bathing is sporadic, Amanda's shins really have a healthy glow. Their commented on quite frequently, "What lovely shins you have.") We then plastered ourselves with Aloe.
After spending the morning by the lake reading and then finishing a book by Jon Krauker on Pat Tillman's unbelievable (inspiring) life and unbelievable (maddening) death I passed it onto Isaiah who made an incredible effort and almost finished it in one day! The book is very well written by an author I find to be credible. It ended up having a similar effect on both of us, that is equal parts admiration for the man and anger at war and government. Their were intermittent groans of frustration as we read. (If you want the cliff notes there is also a great documentary on the story)
(For my part I'm reading (or so far actually re-reading) books from or about the states we're in. This applies to music too. For Washington-Sherman Alexie, Raymond Carver, "Snow Falling on Cedars," Grunge, Neko Case, Fleet Foxes, that kind of thing. For Idaho "Housekeeping," Built to Spill and Josh Ritter.
If anyone is interested in what we are entertaining ourselves with ask and we can update on what we are into at the moment).
Once the book was almost done we took down our imperceptibly used tent, having only slept in it one night. (Enough to get confirmation our van is more spacious, comfortable and warm. With the trade off that it is more warm, to the point of stifling. Also, mosquitoes seem to find it comfortable too) and with our friend Miles as inspiration (he believes camping doesn't begin until the campfire does) we gathered firewood for our evening campfire. Isaiah made a great fire sans lighter fluid (As it turns out too great. Our Idaho Falls fire Sensai was too helpful) and cooked a delicious dinner of hash browns, ramen and oatmeal. When the food was cooked we had burnt all the wood with the exception of one gigantic stump. After having lugged it from the forest and across camp it seemed wasteful to spare it. Turns out the rangers are correct when they say to ensure all wood properly fits within the fire pit. Setting the stump on the fire that was previously nothing more than coals we immediately regretted the addition. The coals immediately started eating through the log, throwing sparks enough to start catching the ground on fire. A fire can be relaxing, comforting. Not when it is ambitious and wayward.
I made the first dash to retrieve water from the lake. I mentioned that the hill from the lake is intense, well running up it with a backpack of water burns the lungs. After almost collapsing from exhaustion I threw the water onto the fire. This only make it more angry. Isaiah took the next trip and after 4 runs in total the whole mess was out, but so were we. With still ragged breaths we cleaned up the campsite and retreated to bed before the sun had even set.
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