La-la-la-labour Day Weekend …

Okay, now I officially suck for not writing sooner. Things since the beginning of September have been a complete blur for me.

So, lemme rewind a bit. Nine days ago, I went camping with a bunch of friends up at a provincial park about an hour and a half north of Toronto. I was originally of two minds about it. On one hand, I wasn’t entirely sure, because the weather hadn’t been stellar lately, and it was threatening to rain. On the other, the last time I’d gone camping was July of last year, and I really felt a burning desire to do it. The burning desire won out; I asked my friend if I could borrow her tent and sleeping bag, and I was in like Flynn.

So we loaded up two cars and headed for the campground. It was pitch-black when we arrived, but we flicked on the flashlights and assembled our tents and air mattresses (hey, people still need a bit of comfort, nuh?). So far the rain was holding off. It was just a tad cold.

That changed the next day. It started raining in the morning; when it let up a bit, that’s when two of the friends – responsible for organizing the trip, and the most prepared – brought out the shelter for the picnic bench and other small appliances needed for cooking.

It still rained throughout the weekend, but it was great nonetheless. More people dropped by the site to visit; we took a walk over to the beach, where a couple of them swam; a friend cooked some awesome chilli for dinner that night. Later on in the weekend we went on a couple walks around the campground. We listened to the classic rock countdown that was on for most of the weekend. We even had a slingshot contest, trying to shoot down empty beer cans we put on a nearby bush. I could go on, but it was great.

Of course, it finally stopped raining the day we left, after we tore down our tents. But isn’t that the way things usually work?

That weekend left me wishing (a) the weekend didn’t have to end so soon, and (b) I could go camping more often. I’d like to eventually rough it – or get as close as possible – at least once.

But, baby steps. First on my shopping list: my own sleeping bag.

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