My boyfriend and I had arranged to go camping over the weekend. We had the car all packed and were ready to go when the phone call came. It was his boss. There'd been an accident at work and he was required. Now!
He argued, pointing he was about to take off camping. His boss pointed out that they were in an emergency situation and that he was needed. He did make one concession, though. If Jack came in right away and put in a full shift he'd let him have Monday off. Jack conceded that this was fair enough as he could still leave to go to the camp ground first thing in the morning.
I was a little disgruntled about the deal, mainly because it meant we wouldn't be able to grab one of the more secluded camping spots.
"I know," I told him. "I can drive up their tonight and grab a decent spot and pitch the tent. You can bike it up there first thing tomorrow."
Jack considered this and nodded agreement.
"You do know how to pitch the tent properly?" he said.
"Yes," I said coldly. "I have done it before."
"I know. It fell down. That's why I was asking."
"I simply forgot the guy lines," I pointed out. "It could have happened to anyone. I'll remember them this time, I assure you."
He smirked and conceded the point and a short time later I was off, heading towards the camping grounds.
I made it in a timely manner and was able to grab one of the more secluded camping sites. I liked to be able to lounge around my campsite without having to worry about anyone wandering past. Let's just say that when I was alone with Jack I didn't always worry about the degree of skin I was showing.
I pitched the tent without any problems, not forgetting to use the tie lines. I don't get caught by the same mistake twice. Then I set about making myself some dinner and taking a walk around the grounds.
That walk reminded me why I always go camping with Jack. Without him the wolves came crawling out of the woods, smelling fresh meat. Screw that for a joke. I beat them off, although a couple of times I thought I might have to go and get a baseball bat to do the beating. I think it was the number of wolves that stopped any one of them taking real advantage of my solitariness. None of them were willing to leave another alone with me.
Eventually I wandered down to the Ranger's place and asked if I could use their back door. The Ranger running the place just laughed and let me, whereupon I vanished into the woods behind his place and circled around to my campsite, leaving any lovelorn swains lingering out the front of the Ranger's place.
Once it began to get dark I unrolled my sleeping bag inside the tent, stripped down to my undies, and lay down on top of the bag. I was too hot to get in it, but quite comfortable as a bed. If the night got chilly I could always get in. I lay there, listening to the breeze, rather a strong one, I noticed. Certainly strong enough to shake the tent, but those tie lines kept it steady. Score one to me. I fell asleep.
I was dreaming that I was smothering and woke with a scream. And then I screamed again to find that I was smothering. I could hear that the wind outside was really blowing and somehow or other it had blown my tent down.
"Fucking tie lines," I screamed, trying to sort out what was what. I didn't even know where the damn door was so I could unzip and crawl out.
"Are you having problems," a voice asked, not bothering to hide their amusement.
"No," I snarled. "What makes you think that?"
"Ah, the bad language and the collapsed tent?" came the suggesting. "From the look of it some idiot put the spikes in at the wrong angle."
"What do you mean?" asked the idiot in question.
"The spikes should be hammered into the ground at right angles to the direction of the line," was the reply. "These were probably hammered in in the same direction so any pressure on the line just popped the spikes right out of the ground again. This wind is strong enough to do that."
You had to put the spikes in at an angle? Why hadn't anyone told me? This was Jack's fault, and I'd let him know it.
