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Humor September 2019

Social Insecurity

Call of the Wild Is Turning into a Whisper

By Michael J. Murphy

I learned a long time ago to be leery when I pull into a campsite which, at first glance, appears to be perfect...If you soon notice hovering outside the windshield a cloud of mosquitoes wearing tiny bibs and slobbering like Pavlov’s dog, you might want to reconsider that particular spot.

As I grow older, the number of things that I enjoy about camping gradually declines. Right now, I’m at the stage where the two things topping my list of “What I love about camping” are the first cup of coffee while sitting near the campfire in the morning and the first beer in the evening, same location. Everything in between those two events isn’t quite the same as it used to be.

My wife and I recently returned from a camping trip. They say getting there is half the fun. But that’s not what I say. So let’s back up and analyze the drive to the campsite because
that alone is getting to be too strenuous for me due to various factors, all of which seemed to pop up on this one trip.

If you have traveled at all lately, you have most likely noticed nearly every highway in the nation is under road construction this summer. I swear, you can’t drive 20 miles before encountering another one of those dreaded orange “Road Work Ahead” signs. And not just on major thoroughfares either.

Seriously, we sat and waited 15 minutes for our turn to pass through a one-lane construction stretch so far out in the boonies that we were the lone car in line, but we were not alone. Ahead and behind us, there were something like a hundred cows waiting too. And let me tell you, they were not cutting the flag guy any slack — the angry mooing was quite intimidating.

Even when I’m stuck in the middle of an endless row of idling semi-trucks in one of those dreaded “Expect long delays” spots, I get nervous due to the memory of all the clunkers I owned as a kid which invariably chose to die in the worst possible situations.

A bit farther down the road we encountered more road work. As we approached it, the guy with the Stop/Slow sign was holding it sideways! “What on earth does that mean!?” I shouted. Truthfully, my language was much worse than that, so thank goodness none of those edgy cows were around to hear me.

Things got worse as the guy started jumping up and down, pointing at the pavement, screaming something that we could not hear due to my screaming and, to top it off, now the sign was spinning around like a gyroscope.

Faced with that type of erratic behavior what should a driver do? Well, I did what I always do when faced with a difficult driving predicament — like trying to navigate an unfamiliar roundabout with six exits — I just floored it and got the heck out of there as fast as I could.

Another factor besides road work that made this particular drive to our favorite area stressful is the fact that our ’94 Dodge van is starting to run as though it feels the same way about all this camping stuff as we do. Nowadays, it runs in a manner that makes the hills feel hillier and the bumps feel bumpier.

I learned a long time ago to be leery when I pull into a campsite which, at first glance, appears to be perfect. After shutting off the van motor, I like to just sit in the vehicle for a bit, not opening any doors or windows. If you soon notice hovering outside the windshield a cloud of mosquitoes wearing tiny bibs and slobbering like Pavlov’s dog, you might want to reconsider that particular spot.

Let’s say the coast appears clear of mosquitoes so you unload your gear and get all settled in. Then, as soon as you sit down to rest in your cute little camp chair which, after several days, will generate serious back trouble, the flies show up.

This always amazes me, and I can’t help wonder: They have like a million acres of forest full of critters, at least half of which, I’m pretty sure, are not as smart as me, and which the flies could easily dive-bomb to their hearts’ content with little chance of being swatted into a bluish blob. And yet they all show up here and take turns buzzing near my ears!

This last trip I had flies as big as hummingbirds smack me in the side of the head, nearly knocking me out of the camp chair. Mountain flies are particularly brawny and bold, so they merely laughed at my wimpy bright orange fly swatter. Maybe next time I’ll bring a bright orange baseball bat.

That is, if there is a next time. Because on top of the mosquitoes and flies driving me out of my mind, one must also deal with other noisy humans camping in the vicinity. My wife and I just like to chill, listen to the birds, catch a cool breeze, and hike a tranquil trail. I guess when we can’t do that anymore, it’ll be time to sell the old camper van.

 

Mike Murphy retired after a 35-year teaching and coaching career. He has a master’s degree in English from the University of Nebraska and is an Associated Press award-winning columnist.

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