Hubby being a city boy is not your camping fan, or was not until me met the drunk crazy people at a 3 day Fiddlers convention in N.C.
We took a 2 man pup tent, food, lots of ice and about 6 cases of beer. This was not my first time at this form of entrainment. Hubby had never been in the Smokey Mountains an had no idea what to expect.
We finally got the tent up with all kinds of extra tie downs that he found to be over kill, I went looking for a downed tree branch about 6 feet tall to use as a walking staff. Question from better half, "what the heck do you need that for"
.
The only advice I could give him to keep him safe in these neck of the woods was to not to turn his ball cap around, in some parts of Carolina unless you ride a bike, a backward cap is a sign of your wanting to fight.
So here we are up in the hills thousands of day trippers or weekend folk coming in and music from noon to past midnight.
First night the wind whipped up and tents were flying around, dozens of drunks and drugged folks were racing about in the wee early morning trying to catch up their stuff as it went flying away, we just lay and listened to the cussing and the bangs as flimsy bbq's went falling over. Flat lander that had no idea of what the weather could do in the mountains. I said not a word, just smerked to myself.
Next night not much of a breeze and we spent the day listening to music, watching Cloggers and wandering up and down the trail up the mountain to the stage area.
About noon hubby is off in the woods looking for a branch to make himself a staff. I said not a word just smerked to myself.
That night as he complained about the hard ground under the tent, over flowing porta potties, bugs, snakes and wild life that must be 10 miles off once the Music cut in, he had one of the eye opening evens that we still laugh about.
The couple in the next tent , the male had passed out and his date was lonely. She brought a young thing she had picked up to a space between our tents and proceded to try to molest him most soundly '
In our tent I thought Hubby was sleeping and then I noticed his body shaking oddly, he was trying to not laugh out loud. The next hour was difficult for both of us as we had to bury our heads in our pillows not to make a sound.
Voyeurism, you bet your ass, that woman tried anything to get that man into a strangle hold.
As last resort she when a frog croaked, she gave a pitiful cry and told he male she was afraid of FROGS.
Hold me, hold me the FROGS will get me. Sheess, hear that, there is another one.
Sad to say both of us had laughed so much into our pillows we both had to pee big time and squatted behind the tent rather the head out in the dark.
When we got back the Frog lady and new friend were gone, next day we packed up to come home and the Frog Lady came over to offer us some morning coffee.
Interesting people one meets camping, Hubby says he will never go camping again, but we have added a new word to our family history, if we do not believe something we ask each other if they are croaking on me. Or Darn are you afraid of frogs???
