Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Camping Rocks!

Black and white photos by Pizza Diarist

This is quite a lengthy photo journey so hang in there. Ee ee ee.

Because I have somehow fallen in with a crowd that tends to accomplish things in the a.m., the weekend begins at The Elephant's Eye for breakfast at 9 a.m. I arrive 20 minutes late and am astounded to see everyone else is actually already there, having just spent the morning doing things like shopping at the farmer's market and bettering the world. While I slept. Breakfast: scones. Not as great as everyone seems to think.

After the four of us piled into the car, we stopped at S and M's for equipment, then Pizza Diarist's for equipment, then my place because I forgot my hoodie, then Pizza Diarist's because he forgot something as well, then S and M's because they forgot camping chairs and bagels. After driving around Halifax for several hours we finally hit the road for Bulk Barn, where we bought approximately 30 pounds of candy. Then we piled in ye olde van and re-hit the road for The Ovens.

We scored the site we had two years ago, only this time around it was much windier. But still awesome-o.

hippo enjoyed it as well.

We toured nature.

Rock goo!


Our feet got wet. One of us would later patch up a hole in his shoe with flammable glue and stick his sneaker in the fire.

Shadows were cast.

Old cameras were explored.

The gift shop and "museum" were explored.

We meet Gold Pan Man, a wonderful Willie Nelson type who spent his days with his woman panning for gold.

When asked what he was going to do with said gold he replied "Put it in a bottle and say this is what I did on my vacation." He ruled.

Things were adorable.

At some point, we saw a squirrel run off with a whole marshmallow. Amazed, we realized he had snuck onto our pic-a-nic table while we were napping and wandering, dragged the whole marshmallow bag halfway across our campsite, untwisted the bag and worked a marshmallow out through a relatively small hole we had previously made in the bag. Best squirrel ever. I like to think it was this squirrel, who happily posed for the camera.

That yellow circle is pointing out the cute mccutestein frog that we saw a tumblin'. Let me tell you, you have not appreciated a teeny frog until you have seen it try to hop up a little incline of dirt and roll pink belly over green back several times. A-dorable.

Point of interest: That "rock" you see pictured on the pic-a-nic table next to the book is actually chocolate.

Night fell.

I froze while trying to sleep and my legs went through severe cramping. This has only been recorded by painful memories and not by digital means. Around 2:30 a.m. Pizza Diarist woke up and stated:
"I have to wizz."
Thirty seconds pass in silence and stillness. I enquire:
"Are you going to go outside?" To which I receive the reply:
"Part of me is."
Since I have an insane concern that I must pass gas all night while I sleep, I asked Pizza Diarist if this was the case, since he was sleeping next to me. Answer: "Not that I noticed. Although maybe if you did, this tent would be warm!" True enough.
Pizza Diarist sits up and fumbles for light. I let him know he can turn on the lamp hanging from the tent:

He turns it on and screams "It's like the sun!"
S and M are awakened in the next tent to the sound of us dying of laughter. Freezing makes things funnier.



My fuzzy RCMP hat, as given to me by my dad, had fun with us.

Swinging occurred. Of the innocent variety. Sorry S and M.

Camping chairs fell in love.

Accidental close ups were taken.

So-called Animal Friends did not exist.

Some of us really enjoyed climbing stairs.

Fire and food were enjoyed.

Newspapers were read. Then burned.


A seagull smashed open a crab.

S pointed out a rock that looked like an Asian sideways squished sleeping Jack Skellington head.

We sat.

I napped beneath my new tent.

Night falls again.

The next morning we pack up camp and head out. We all stop for lunch at the grand Knot Pub in Lunenburg.

I had the best club sandwich ever and Pizza Diarist left his old school Polaroid camera and the weekends photos behind. Luckily, his dad was in the area and was able to rescue it all.
A good time was had by all, as far as I know, and we learned important things. Like, "No fags in Blockhouse!", and "Snap. Crap." We also learned that crows will have insane crow fights at 5:47 a.m. regardless of who's sleeping nearby, that crows and seagulls will float back and forth over your campsite powered only by wind until you leave so they can try to get your goods, and that when a squirrel hops next to your previously sleeping head, you can hear puffs of his breath. Although I'm the only one that learned this and others don't believe me. Also, everything is a shortcut! Oh, and that trailer hitch covers exist, and can be tacky and hilarious.


rockstar_writer said...

At the Knot, did you see the plaque for Hockey Pool Champion with my name at the top? Many good times had by Rockstar Writer as a cub reporter for the Progress Enterprise in good ol' Lunenburg.

The Miker said...

The black and whote photos are all "the shit" the good way.... also....way to burn marshmellows.

Once... when camping a raccoon stole a huge bag of Cheetos and took it way up a tree. My young cousin stood at the bottom of the tree crying "My Cheetooooos!"

pizza diarist said...

Thanks for making me late for work this morning.

p.s. That squirrel tasted delish.

silent grasses said...

Man! The great outdoors. Spectacular! Unrivalled.

Apart from, perhaps...

...the great indoors...and a widescreen...and Brazil on the pitch...and a cold Hoegaarden.

Mmmm...tough choice.