Mini Brain Dumps

Taking my husband camping for the first time was supposed to be an adventure filled with fresh air, beautiful scenery, and quality time spent with our friends. We decided to brave the wilderness at Moon Lake in Riding Mountain National Park in hopes of absorbing the beautiful lake scenery. What we didn’t anticipate was, arguably, one of the worst camping experiences I have ever had.

If you’ve never been to Moon Lake, it is beautiful, and I would highly recommend it. It is definitely a place for roughing it, though, as there is no potable water or electricity. However, there are flushable toilets, which, in hindsight, were a small but significant blessing.

The night we pulled into the park, there was a torrential rainstorm. It was so bad that we had to shout at the park attendant over the sound of the rain hitting our vehicle to get our pass for the weekend. At one point, we even pulled over and waited for the rain to calm down because our windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour.

When we finally pulled into our campsite, it was still raining. We were met with the sight of a collapsed tent. I couldn’t contain my laughter as I got out of the car and approached my friends. I was met with a chorus of “Don’t laugh!” and “It’s not funny!” and “Hurry up and set up so we can get out of here.”

My husband, then boyfriend, and I debated whether or not to wait out the rain to set up. Given our friends’ unfortunate predicament, we chose to bite the bullet and set up camp in the rain. We counted down from three and made a mad dash for our truck to grab our tent.

Luckily, ours was an instant tent, and we set it up in under a minute, though we struggled with the rainfly as it whipped around in the wind. As we collapsed onto our soaked tent floor, we stared at the canopy and watched as it thrashed around in the wind. We were completely soaked but happy to have the tent up. I think our friends might have been even more relieved than us as they scrambled into the safety of our tent.

My husband and I ran to the car together, grabbing our air mattress and clothes as quickly as we could, and everyone helped clean up the water before settling in to play a game of Uno. And luckily, we did set up our tent because the rain didn’t let up until three in the morning. As we settled in for the night, we told ourselves that everything would be better tomorrow.

It was not.

The cold and miserable weather continued; the rain was fairly constant. In the daylight, we tried to fix my friends’ tent, only to give up as some of the poles were missing. Luckily, our other friends had some space, and they were able to cram three people into their small tent by some miracle. Imagine a six-foot-five dude and two small ladies crammed into a three-person tent. It was a tight squeeze, to say the least.

We spent most of our time huddled around a campfire, trying to keep warm and dry.
On our last day, the rain stopped. It was still cold and miserable, but at least we weren’t wet too. My poor hair had turned into a frizzy mess from the humidity, but we managed to go for a walk to the dock. The trail had been closed due to a bear attack, so we weren’t able to walk the trail, which was disappointing, and it was foggy. We could barely see the shoreline, but the dock was pretty. As we packed up our stuff and said goodbye, we were grateful to be leaving.

Then came the food poisoning. It hit me first, and it hit hard.

We all still debate to this day as to what the cause was. Some say it was the hotdogs, others the lettuce, and some even blame the stick one of our friends used to cook. I suspect the hotdogs, but I’m not sure because my husband ate way more hotdogs than me, and he was only sick for a day. The others were sick for two to three days. But not me. I nearly ended up in the hospital and couldn’t eat for two weeks without feeling violently ill, as did one of my other friends.

Despite everything that had happened, my husband surprised me. He actually had fun. It was his first camping trip. He loved trying something new, the challenge of it all, and the time we spent together, even if it was under less-than-ideal conditions. Reflecting on that weekend, I realize that sometimes the most challenging experiences are the ones that bring us closer and create the most vivid memories. We might not have had the idyllic camping trip I envisioned, but we shared laughs, supported each other through sickness, and came out of it with a story to tell.

Moon Lake may not have given us the perfect camping experience, but it gave us a weekend to remember. And who knows, maybe one day we will go back, better prepared and with a whole lot more bug spray.