Shifting Perspectives Study

The Camping Trip – Three Perspectives

By Sticktalker

(Author’s Note: Jon, Caissus and Justine went through the same high school and then attended the one local college together for the next four years. Always close friends – they referred to themselves sometimes as “The Triumvirate”. One summer they went camping together just before college started. These are their stories about a single event that took place at the campout.)

JON’S STORY

“The Sierra Nevada” mountains run almost the length of California, at least in the middle part of the state. Near Oregon they become “The Cascades”. Our Freshman summer, Caissus, Justine and I decided to go camping about an hour from home in the Sierras. It was a U.S. Forestry “primitive” campground next to a small, pristine lake. I’d camped there before with my parents a couple of times as a kid and thought it would be a really quiet, relaxing place for the three of us.

This was a “final summer experience” for us, school started up again a week later and the pressure cooker would be back on for another nine months.

Caissus, despite being Italian, wasn’t much of a cook, so Justine and I decided we’d do all the cooking and Caissus would be the dishwasher and cleanup man.

Before I go on with the story, you need to know that us two guys thought of Justine “just as one of the guys, not a sexual partner”. In fact, we referred to ourselves as “The Triumvirate”, a reference to old Roman days. We were all equal partners in all of our adventures.

I told the two about “Camp Octobre” and described it in detail, a small campground where you couldn’t use an RV, it had to be a tent, or just a shelter half. There was only one water point so you had to haul all the camp water in a bucket and heat it up on an open wood fire. The only amenities were two things: a heavy wood picnic table and a box rigged to a pulley so you could put your food in it, then haul it up into the trees, far away from the occasional brown bear who foraged the area.

Next to the campground was a tiny lake, maybe two acres. Usually there was no wind there and the lake surface was perfectly calm and would clearly reflect the surrounding mountains covered in pine trees on the lower elevations and bare rock higher up. There were some fish in the lake and while you could canoe on it, the water was too cold for anything more than a quick dip in the warm afternoons.

It was a perfect place to camp.

Oh, only one minor drawback, being a “primitive campground” it meant there were two pit toilets. One for the guys, one for the girls. If you haven’t ever used a pit toilet, you need to know there is no running water, just a big tank underground that was pumped out every so often. Yes, it had a slight smell, but not bad. Hey, you can get used to these things.

The second night of the planned three nights we had finished eating, Caissus had cleaned up and it was nearly dark. I had built a nice fire with the wood we had brought and we all three were sitting on the logs around the campfire, warming our hands and trying to keep our backsides from freezing.

I heard a rather strange noise, something I’d never heard before…it was kinda a “thump, thump, thump.” It sorta sounded like a diesel truck coming up a grade. Which was strange, there was no highway nearby, the campground was about five miles from Highway 37. The sound was louder and louder and finally the sound maker came into the campground parking lot.

It was a …..!

CAISSUS’ STORY

I’m not sure why I let Jon talk me into coming on this camping trip. Sure, we did everything in high school and the three of us, Justine included, were attending the same college. Jon had this bright idea about going camping together before the new college semester started.

Now, I’m not an outdoorsman and I can’t cook, but Jon said he and Justine would do the cooking; I would just have to wash the plates and silverware. Dang, Jon didn’t say they would be cooking on an open fire. You know how HARD it is to scrub smoke and soot off pots and stuff…in water you had to haul from one faucet 100 feet away on the other side of the campground and then heat up on a wood fire?

At least I didn’t have to do the cooking, I could leave the camp area while they cooked and get away from that wood smoke. No matter WHERE I stood, the wind would blow the stinky smoke my direction.

All we had were sleeping bags and a tiny tent to sleep in, not even an air mattress, much less a proper bed. I was sore from the next morning until the end of the trip.

The lake was all that Jon had said; it was small, very pretty and a pale blue. It was also very clear and shallow and if you stood quietly at the edge you could sometimes see fish swimming in the water. Jon rinsed off in the lake every afternoon. I tried it…once…but it was like ice! I didn’t try it again.

Oh, and the mosquitoes. Jon “forgot” to tell us about those pesky little fellows.

Jon had built this roaring campfire, I swear the flames must have been 10 feet tall. It was getting dark and cold and no matter how many shirts I had on under my coat I couldn’t keep both sides of me warm. The fire side was warm enough, but the other side froze!

If that wasn’t bad enough, the second night I could hear wild animals thumping around in the dark, the sound getting closer and closer. I figured it was a bear coming to raid our pantry…or worse yet, eat us!

The thumping got louder and louder and finally the thing that was making it came into the campground parking lot…it was a….!

JUSTINE’S STORY

Back in my college days I went camping with two of my old high school buddies, Jon and Cassius. Both were really sweet guys – totally cool really. By that I mean neither one of them ever made a move on me and that was refreshing, I’ve fought off a whole lot of guys who seemed to have eight arms all over my body. But, like I said, Jon and Cassius were really cool. We even called ourselves “The Triumvirate” and, in high school, hung together.

After we graduated, and found out we couldn’t get into State, we enrolled at the local four-year college. There we remained in contact, but with the press of school we really didn’t see each other on a regular basis outside of some times eating together in the college cafeteria.

Anyways, this one summer Jon called up and said he and Caissus were going to go on a campout the last week of summer as a “last fling” before school started up.

I had just dumped my boy friend – I don’t even remember his name now, he wasn’t all that special, I guess. Maybe he was just a “summer romance”. I just don’t remember much about him…except he had six arms.

Jon said there was this campground not very far away at a small lake in the Sierras. We’d take sleeping bags and a tent and cook on a wood fire. It sounded like fun and I didn’t have anything really planned for that week, so I told him to count me in.

I know boys can pack for a trip in a few minutes, maybe and hour for a camping trip, but it took me two days to get everything together that I’d need: clothes, undies, detergent, soap, powders, lipstick, hair spray, combs and brushes, sleeping bag, air mattress, hair dryer and a couple of romance novels I hadn’t had a chance to read all summer.

Jon said he’d bring all the cooking stuff and food, but I tossed in a few snacks because I know that boys usually forget stuff like that. You know, some cookies, Pringles, couple of sacks of potato chips and some chewing gum, chocolate chip cookies, hot coco mix and some mini marshmallows. OK, so I had a box of “munchies”, you can’t be too prepared for a campout, especially after Jon said there was no camp store there.

Now, I’m not stupid or anything, but that should have told me something about this campground, but I missed it, right over my curly locks. OK, OK, so they are blonde curly locks. Sheesh.

Jon was supposed to pick up Caissus and then myself at 8 am that Monday. When he didn’t show up I tried texting and then calling him on his cell, but got no answer. They finally arrived at 9:30 am in Jon’s parents’ SUV.

When I asked Jon what happened he looked at me and said, “What do you mean? Nothing happened, we’re here.”

“Yeah, but it’s 9:30, you are an hour and a half late and you didn’t answer your cell when I called,” I replied.

“So? What’s the big deal, it’s not like we have an appointment or something,” he brushed it off.

Caissus just looked at me, shrugged, held out his hands palm upward and rolled his eyes as if saying it wasn’t HIS fault.

That was OK I guess and since the campground was only about an hour away, I guess it really didn’t make any difference.

I loaded my stuff. It filled the entire rear floor.

“Where’s your guys’ stuff?” I asked them.

“It’s there…the two sleeping bags, the ice chest and the tent.”

“No extra clothes?”

“What for? No one but us are going to be there. No need to change,” Jon said.

“OMG, I forgot my jacket. I’ma going to freeze my ass off,” Caissus said.

“I got one you can use,” Jon said, “It’s got a torn sleeve, but it’ll keep you warm enough. Besides it’s not going to get cold enough to freeze at night.”

“But it’s Summer. How cold is it going to get?” I asked.

“I dunno, in the 30’s, but not cold enough to freeze,” Jon replied.

“The 30’s? Oh my God.” Now I was starting to get worried. I only had one pair of long jeans and a few tops, most of them short-sleeved, and one thin jacket. Good thing I had brought two extra blankets for night!

“What’s the name of this campground? I’ve never been there so tell me more about it,” I said.

Jon tried to talk over the CD in the player which was playing some loud old person’s music, sounded like it was from the 1940’s, some guy singer called “Pressey” or something like that, “Elvish Pressey” I think it was.

“Don’t you have anything good?” I asked him; “We don’t need to hear this old stuff, get something with a beat to it on.”

“I forgot my CDs,” he said; “This one is the only one that was in the SUV, It’s my mom’s fav.”



         Author’s Note: This last one, Justine’s Story, was the funniest to write. I could go on and on expanding it, but then nearly 2000 words is ENOUGH for this event. Lyle