There is a LOT that concerns me when we talk about camping. I can think of about 3,000 reasons just off the top of my head why I don't like it, and don't ever want to do it.
1. Bugs.
2. Dirt.
3. Mess.
4. Hot.
5. Sweaty.
6. The Great Outdoors.
Yeah, I could go on and on, but you get it. Anyway, one of my TOP reasons for a total avoidance of camping is having to do all my necessaries OUTDOORS. By necessaries, of course I mean things like brushing my teeth. Showering. Peeing. And that is just the really necessary stuff. There's a whole lot of other things that I consider totally necessary, but I realize that others may not. This includes applying full make up, shaving my legs daily and straightening my hair with a good flat iron. Either way, it all gets done outdoors. Or in the RV, whatever, same difference.
Now when we took off on this little adventure, we hadn't yet de-winterized the RV. We hadn't filled up the water tanks, etc., because in Michigan, it was still falling below freezing at night, and we couldn't take the chance that the pipes might burst. So we took off, waterless, in our camper. Which really means that we were just in a huge freaking car. (As you'll remember, there was no heat and no electricity, so with no water either--I'm really not getting the point here. But I digress.) The long and the short of this is that I couldn't brush my teeth or shower in the RV...I'd have to hike down to the campground bath house and do those things there. Shall I tell you what this is like, in all its gory details? Yes, I shall.
Picture this. It's about 7:00 a.m. in the campground. Sun is pouring through the windows, the birds are chirping, fresh air abounds...so of course, even though it's vacation--you're awake. You peek bleary-eyed out of the top of your sleeping bag, and realize that you're in a sleeping bag. You shift around uncomfortably...man, do you have to pee! Your tongue is glued to the top of your mouth, and you realize that you could really use a glass of water, and to brush your teeth. But oh no! You can't just stumble over to the bathroom. There is no bathroom. You'll have to: put on clothes. Put on shoes. Go outside. Walk past about 23 other camp sites to the bath house. Oh wait, you have to get all of your toiletries to take with you. And your clothes. Oh yeah, and a towel. Shit. Is it worth it? Maybe you should just stay in bed. Nope! Gotta pee. Up you go. You get the picture.
So that's me. I get up, grab my suitcase full of toiletries (yes, I brought my CHI flat iron and salon-worth hairdryer, among other things), find some clothes, find my flip flops, and I'm on my way. I'm out the door, all is peaceful....nature....maybe this isn't that bad! Walking, walking. Crap! I forgot my towel! Back I go. Back to the camper, back to find a towel without waking everyone up. By the way--I haven't gotten dressed, so I'm walking around in public in my pajamas, that's how far I've sunk. Just giving you the visual here. Towel in hand, I stomp back down the path to the bath house.
The bath house. The dreaded bath house.
I approach and can hear showers running. So I guess I'll have company for my morning routine. That's grand! I open the door and peer to my left. What I see is a row of shower doors, all closed, all occupied. Crap again. I'll have to wait. I look down. I'm standing in about half an inch of muddy water that is coming from the general shower area. You've got to be kidding me. Aren't I here to clean myself? This is disgusting! Ew. With what I am sure is a totally snotty look on my face, I look to the right. A row of toilet stalls. I've gotta go, so I head in that direction. I open the first stall door. Yep, this one hasn't been cleaned since about 2012. Not happening. Stall 2 is closed. Stall 3: golden water, but no floaters. A possibility. Stall 4? Closed. We've got a winner! I tiptoe through the muddy water into Stall 3, grab handfuls of toilet paper and clean everything in sight. Business done, I return to the shower area in time to see one open up. I hurriedly rush to it, set down my bag on the little bench they provide, and then realize that the bench was covered in soapy water. And now, so is my bag. I look at the shower. It's wet everywhere, and there are gobs of hairballs all over it. Seriously?? Christ, it's 7 am. Don't they ever clean these things?
Leaving my bag to hold the shower, I return to Toilet Stall 3 and retrieve gobs more toilet paper. Returning to my shower, I clean the whole. damn. thing. all the hair, dead bugs, and god knows what else. How can I get clean if the shower's not clean?? Sheesh! That done, I return to the task of actually taking a shower. I quickly strip down and take a look at the faucet. There is no handle, just a push button. Ohhhh Kaaaayyy. I push it. Water comes out, hard, like sharp needles, but it's at least hot--which is good, because there appears to be no way to make the water hotter or colder! I step in, and the water promptly shuts off. Huh. I push the button again. Water returns. OK, no problem. I stand under it, wetting down my hair. Water shuts off. Damn it! It must be on a timer. I push it again, step under, and count. 1-2-3-4....about 20 seconds. 20 SECONDS OF WATER, PEOPLE? I get wanting to save water, but 20 SECONDS? WTF. Fine. I will continue to soap and push.
After playing this game for about 15 more minutes (do you know how hard it is to try to shave your legs while pausing to turn the water back on??), I'm done. I towel off, and pull my clothes out of my bag, Promptly, my nice clean underwear fall out of the bag, and into the muddy water all over the floor. Nice. Commando it is! I'm able to get dressed the rest of the way without dropping any more clothing on the disgusting floor, and make my way over to the sinks for the rest of the beautification.
The sink area is happily only occupied by one other camper, leaving me with ample space to plug in all my electronics, and spread out my toiletries. I go to the farthest sink, and set down my now wet and soapy bag. Want to hazard a guess as to the general cleanliness? Yep, you're right. Back to my favorite Toilet Stall for more of that useful toilet paper. I proceed to fully clean the dead bugs and hair out of my sink area. I swear I'm doing more cleaning of the bath house than of myself! They should be paying me. I plug in my flat iron and hair dryer, which elicits some strange glances from Ms. Granola down the way, but I ignore her. Instead, I begin applying several layers of face lotion, foundation, powder, blush, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick...you know--only the essentials. Granola-lover keeps sneaking strange looks at me, but she doesn't scare me. In fact, why is she still here, if she has no hairdryer or make up to apply? Anyway, I block her out by turning my hairdryer on full blast and proceeding to spend another 20 minutes getting my hair into place.
By the time I'm done, about an hour has passed, and I'm so hot and sweaty from cleaning the bath house, cleaning myself, and blow-drying with no air conditioning that I think I need another shower! But they're all full again, so I guess I'll skip that.
On to another day of camping!
1. Bugs.
2. Dirt.
3. Mess.
4. Hot.
5. Sweaty.
6. The Great Outdoors.
Yeah, I could go on and on, but you get it. Anyway, one of my TOP reasons for a total avoidance of camping is having to do all my necessaries OUTDOORS. By necessaries, of course I mean things like brushing my teeth. Showering. Peeing. And that is just the really necessary stuff. There's a whole lot of other things that I consider totally necessary, but I realize that others may not. This includes applying full make up, shaving my legs daily and straightening my hair with a good flat iron. Either way, it all gets done outdoors. Or in the RV, whatever, same difference.
Now when we took off on this little adventure, we hadn't yet de-winterized the RV. We hadn't filled up the water tanks, etc., because in Michigan, it was still falling below freezing at night, and we couldn't take the chance that the pipes might burst. So we took off, waterless, in our camper. Which really means that we were just in a huge freaking car. (As you'll remember, there was no heat and no electricity, so with no water either--I'm really not getting the point here. But I digress.) The long and the short of this is that I couldn't brush my teeth or shower in the RV...I'd have to hike down to the campground bath house and do those things there. Shall I tell you what this is like, in all its gory details? Yes, I shall.
Picture this. It's about 7:00 a.m. in the campground. Sun is pouring through the windows, the birds are chirping, fresh air abounds...so of course, even though it's vacation--you're awake. You peek bleary-eyed out of the top of your sleeping bag, and realize that you're in a sleeping bag. You shift around uncomfortably...man, do you have to pee! Your tongue is glued to the top of your mouth, and you realize that you could really use a glass of water, and to brush your teeth. But oh no! You can't just stumble over to the bathroom. There is no bathroom. You'll have to: put on clothes. Put on shoes. Go outside. Walk past about 23 other camp sites to the bath house. Oh wait, you have to get all of your toiletries to take with you. And your clothes. Oh yeah, and a towel. Shit. Is it worth it? Maybe you should just stay in bed. Nope! Gotta pee. Up you go. You get the picture.
So that's me. I get up, grab my suitcase full of toiletries (yes, I brought my CHI flat iron and salon-worth hairdryer, among other things), find some clothes, find my flip flops, and I'm on my way. I'm out the door, all is peaceful....nature....maybe this isn't that bad! Walking, walking. Crap! I forgot my towel! Back I go. Back to the camper, back to find a towel without waking everyone up. By the way--I haven't gotten dressed, so I'm walking around in public in my pajamas, that's how far I've sunk. Just giving you the visual here. Towel in hand, I stomp back down the path to the bath house.
The bath house. The dreaded bath house.
I approach and can hear showers running. So I guess I'll have company for my morning routine. That's grand! I open the door and peer to my left. What I see is a row of shower doors, all closed, all occupied. Crap again. I'll have to wait. I look down. I'm standing in about half an inch of muddy water that is coming from the general shower area. You've got to be kidding me. Aren't I here to clean myself? This is disgusting! Ew. With what I am sure is a totally snotty look on my face, I look to the right. A row of toilet stalls. I've gotta go, so I head in that direction. I open the first stall door. Yep, this one hasn't been cleaned since about 2012. Not happening. Stall 2 is closed. Stall 3: golden water, but no floaters. A possibility. Stall 4? Closed. We've got a winner! I tiptoe through the muddy water into Stall 3, grab handfuls of toilet paper and clean everything in sight. Business done, I return to the shower area in time to see one open up. I hurriedly rush to it, set down my bag on the little bench they provide, and then realize that the bench was covered in soapy water. And now, so is my bag. I look at the shower. It's wet everywhere, and there are gobs of hairballs all over it. Seriously?? Christ, it's 7 am. Don't they ever clean these things?
Leaving my bag to hold the shower, I return to Toilet Stall 3 and retrieve gobs more toilet paper. Returning to my shower, I clean the whole. damn. thing. all the hair, dead bugs, and god knows what else. How can I get clean if the shower's not clean?? Sheesh! That done, I return to the task of actually taking a shower. I quickly strip down and take a look at the faucet. There is no handle, just a push button. Ohhhh Kaaaayyy. I push it. Water comes out, hard, like sharp needles, but it's at least hot--which is good, because there appears to be no way to make the water hotter or colder! I step in, and the water promptly shuts off. Huh. I push the button again. Water returns. OK, no problem. I stand under it, wetting down my hair. Water shuts off. Damn it! It must be on a timer. I push it again, step under, and count. 1-2-3-4....about 20 seconds. 20 SECONDS OF WATER, PEOPLE? I get wanting to save water, but 20 SECONDS? WTF. Fine. I will continue to soap and push.
After playing this game for about 15 more minutes (do you know how hard it is to try to shave your legs while pausing to turn the water back on??), I'm done. I towel off, and pull my clothes out of my bag, Promptly, my nice clean underwear fall out of the bag, and into the muddy water all over the floor. Nice. Commando it is! I'm able to get dressed the rest of the way without dropping any more clothing on the disgusting floor, and make my way over to the sinks for the rest of the beautification.
The sink area is happily only occupied by one other camper, leaving me with ample space to plug in all my electronics, and spread out my toiletries. I go to the farthest sink, and set down my now wet and soapy bag. Want to hazard a guess as to the general cleanliness? Yep, you're right. Back to my favorite Toilet Stall for more of that useful toilet paper. I proceed to fully clean the dead bugs and hair out of my sink area. I swear I'm doing more cleaning of the bath house than of myself! They should be paying me. I plug in my flat iron and hair dryer, which elicits some strange glances from Ms. Granola down the way, but I ignore her. Instead, I begin applying several layers of face lotion, foundation, powder, blush, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick...you know--only the essentials. Granola-lover keeps sneaking strange looks at me, but she doesn't scare me. In fact, why is she still here, if she has no hairdryer or make up to apply? Anyway, I block her out by turning my hairdryer on full blast and proceeding to spend another 20 minutes getting my hair into place.
By the time I'm done, about an hour has passed, and I'm so hot and sweaty from cleaning the bath house, cleaning myself, and blow-drying with no air conditioning that I think I need another shower! But they're all full again, so I guess I'll skip that.
On to another day of camping!
1 comment:
I laughed so hard I had to keep stopping so I could wipe away the tears running down my face. Only someone else who's been there would understand your pain!
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