Backpacking, drinking, and staples, oh my!

My husband had planned a backpacking trip for the memorial day weekend since he had Monday off. It was pretty craptacular weather this weekend with bursts of rain randomly throughout. Everyone else that had planned on going decided not to go because of the rain. Backpacking in the rain is not very fun, especially for our slacker friends who are too cheap to buy proper clothing attire that’s quick wicking. I found my quick-drying Columbia pants on Amazon for only $18, that was practically a steal since REI charges an arm and a leg for theirs. Just got to know how to find the deals.

Since everyone else pooped out like I had mentioned, I wasn’t going to let my husband go alone, so I went with. As soon as we get on the trail with our 30+ pound backpacks, it starts pouring, go figure! Wasn’t fun, but at least we had the proper gear to withstand it. The trail was about 2.8 miles to our camp spot, so it wasn’t that long, but long enough that my Gregory Deva 70 pack was starting to hurt my shoulders. I should probably go get it properly measured to my body since it feels like all the weight is on my shoulders rather than my hips. Maybe I just need bigger straps or something.

So we finally reach our camp spot at Gillette Lake, but camping spots are limited. There were no other hikers, but there were other campers who drove in, damn them! They got the nice spot by the water and all the dry wood. We were stuck with a crappy spot where someone demolished the fire pit, so I had to rebuild it with rocks. Then the hard part was trying to find wood. None to really be found except this one that looked like a pole of some sort with bolts sticking out of it. Hubby brought his saw, so he cut it up. We gathered various kindling to try and get the fire started with petroleum and cotton balls. Those took fire of course, then eventually the kindling started. It finally got hot enough to attempt to start a fire with bigger stuff, but it just wouldn’t catch cause it was too wet. We finally gave up and kept the wood near the hot coals so it would possibly dry out by morning.

We head to our tent since we’re cold and have no fire, so we open up the booze. You may be thinking you carried in booze in your packs, you’re crazy! No, not really. We usually bring in plastic containers rather than glass to cut down on the weight. Then we grab a container of country time lemonade and we’re good to go. We ended up playing some cards and I brought in my nexus to play some apps while the hubby read, then we passed out.

I awake to my husband getting in and out of the tent about 4 times throughout the night. Him and his small damn bladder when drinking! I didn’t get up once since I went right before bed. I knew I was plenty good and didn’t really drink too much anyways cause I knew I’d probably have to get up a lot and I hate getting comfortably warm and then go outside to freeze my ass off. I think I need to also invest in a shewee since the pee stream has a mind of its own. Sometimes it’s straight, sometimes its to the left heading towards your pant leg or foot, then you have to attempt to do the splits so it doesn’t reach, which makes you fall over. It’s just a mess!

The next day, we wake up to our friends walking in. We didn’t think that they would do it with the rain, but they were down for doing table mountain. I knew I probably wouldn’t do it because I don’t have the stamina to do something that steep and difficult and I figured they probably wouldn’t either. I went along anyways just to see it, so I get about a mile in, and then turn around because I was just slowing them down and it’s pretty much a 6 hour to and back hike. I wanted them to just hurry up and get it over with. I drop off my water bladder to the hubby, give him some beef jerky and trail mix and head back to camp. I crawl back in the tent and into my sleeping bag and pass out for about a half an hour to an hour since I slept like poo the night before. The next thing I know, I wake up to the sound of my husbands voice off in the distance. About 10 minutes go by and still no show. I’m thinking hmm I guess they didn’t make it either. They finally show up to the camp site with jello shots in hand and then our friends say they almost killed my husband. I’m like what…

They’re normally sarcastic, so I assumed they were joking. Then my husband turns the side of his head and I see a bloody mess and then I’m like WTF! I put my shoes on and crawl out of the tent and look at his head and see a chunk of meat sticking up on top. My first thought is he needs stitches or staples, but they’re like oh he’s okay. My husband wasn’t wanting to leave or even go to the hospital for that matter since they were telling him it wasn’t that bad. I think he should trust my instinct though. I took a picture to try to show him, but it was so covered in blood it was hard to tell. The friends hiked out to go grab our car and bring it around to the road so that he wouldn’t have to hike out. I started packing up our crap while our friends wife doctored it up a little bit with some antiseptic. She worked in a veterinary hospital before so I trust she knows something, even if she was only working the receptionist desk.

Apparently the story of what happened was my husband was taking his long johns off from underneath his pants. He had one pant leg and shoe off and one on, then the 2 friends get the bright idea to mess with a tree to try and knock it over. The tree didn’t fall over, but a branch did from 60 feet up which hit him directly on the head and split him open. I swear, our friends are like 12. Who in their right mind thinks knocking over a tree is a good idea, especially when someone is sitting there not able to run and move because their shit is off their legs. Not knowing which way a tree could fall. /Shakes head. I know they felt bad, but damn that was stupid!

They finally arrive back with the cars, so we head out and to the friends house since he lives like 2 minutes away. He goes and takes a shower to try and get all the blood off his face and head, but it was pretty dried on. He ends up touching the spot with his fingers and realizes oh shit, there is a big piece sticking out of my head and finally wants to go to urgent care. We get into town and head to urgent care and they need to give him staples. I knew he needed something, he should just listen to me! LOL

They cleaned it up, numbed him and proceeded to give him 8 staples through his head. He can’t do any strenuous activities and gets them out in the next week. I hear the head heals pretty fast, so that’s great, but now they say to wear a hat for at least 4-6 months to prevent skin cancer since scar tissue is more susceptible.

This is not stopping him from wanting to get back out on the dusty, muddy trail since they didn’t even get to the base of table mountain. He’s wanting to go back out this weekend, but that’s just too soon. He’s a crazy man for sure!


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