Gone camping

We’ve sat through the dropping of leaves, through the shoveling, the plowing, the cold wind that comes from living in South Dakota. We’ve watched the coming of spring with anticipation, longing for the day we can leave the yard behind and join the masses at a state sponsored campground, grouping together with other like minded fools as we sit around a fire ring and prophesize about our futures over an opened beer can.

We’ve prepared our car, picked up new equipment, and chosen our meals wisely. We’ve justified ditching out on a cabin weekend on the lake with a good friend. We’ve filled Steinbeck with camping friendly tunes.

So when you read this, you’ll know where we are: Lake Herman, South Dakota, at our favorite site (nestled back in the trees on it’s own short road, packaged in solitude and blocked from the view of a park full of RVs). We’re prepared for, well, nothing. As in, we’re going to go camping, and we’re going to do nothing. I will relax. I will boat. I will read books, eat camp food, and start drinking at four in the afternoon. I’ll bask in the solitude that comes from getting away from life. I’ll realize the true meaning of a vacation.

Kerrie, Becket, and I will get back to you later. We’re too busy enjoying ourselves. Sorry.