Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Camping Lessons: When It Rains in Missouri
At first, the rain falling on the roof of our tent was lovely. Delicious. I lay under a heavy sleeping bag looking at the tent’s ceiling, seeing the shades of moonlight sneaking through the roof vents and thought, this is so fine – to be in the woods in this tent with my husband and our two old dogs.
Two hours later, the story had shifted. Shining a flashlight in his face, my husband announced we should leave the tent and move to the truck. It was raining very hard and he had heard cars leaving the campground, making him worried that we could be flooded. So, we decamped to the truck where I covered my head with my sleeping bag, not wanting to come face to face with the campground murderer that was certainly roaming on such a scary night. I slept like this for a good while, amazing myself that I could sleep in the truck seat until I remembered that I slept outside behind a park bench several months ago. If you will yourself to sleep, just decide that’s what you’re going to do, that you will not countenance thoughts of campground murderers or tents that might float away, you will go to sleep. At least, that’s been my experience.
Anyway, the rain stopped and we went back in the tent for a few hours. It was damp and cold but, again, I fell asleep until Swirl, our extremely storm-averse dog, started to pace and burrow, finding the most comfort in the pillows where our heads would normally be. Flashes of lightening lit up the tent and we right away to make another run for it to the truck where we slept until morning, the day’s new light so welcome but shaded gray by the still falling, very heavy rain.
We argued about what to do. I wanted to find a McDonald’s, get coffee, and come back to figure out next steps. He thought we should break camp right away and make a run for it. At times, the disagreement got pretty heated. I searched for flood warnings and saw that nearly the entire State of Missouri had active flood warnings with, as the officials curtly stated, “rescues underway.”
Because of bears, everything food related had been packed in the truck the night before. That left the tent and its contents to pack. We hauled out sopping wet sleeping pads, the dog beds, pillows, wringing them out as we raced back and forth to the truck. Last in the truck was the tent itself, a dripping mess of poles and fabric full of leaves and dirt which we hugged hard enough to fit it into the truck and then we slammed the tailgate closed and left.
I was still wearing the Farm and Fleet long underwear that I’d slept in which I wore all day, along with a pair of very snappy ankle boots and heavy tan and orange socks that cutely peeked over the top. I wore this getup all day while my husband wore his sweatpants and his ubiquitous Yukon Quest hoodie which was soaked clear through until late afternoon.
“Why are we so low class?” I asked him, while we were eating steak burgers from the Steak ‘n Shake attached to a mega truck stop in northern Missouri. He shrugged and ripped open another ketchup packet I’d found in the glove compartment. “The fries are really good, but the burger could be better,” he answered. Plus the shakes, incredibly thick chocolate shakes, made life worth living again.
I dished up the end of my shake with the straw, it was that thick, and then retrieved the drips on my long underwear with my fingers, licking them perfectly clean.
___________________
Originally published in 2022
One Comment on “Camping Lessons: When It Rains in Missouri”
Leave a Reply
Recent Comments
 | joviald3f8e0e214 on Brevity is Beautiful |
 | Nancy Bauer-King on Truck Life in the Big City |
 | Deb on Truck Life in the Big City |
| joviald3f8e0e214 on Where’s the Money When y… |
 | Reflections of an Un… on Where’s the Money When y… |
Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
I felt every single moment of this story — from the dreamy tent vibes to the McDonald’s vs. break-camp-now marital showdown. Camping has a funny way of turning from peaceful retreat to survival challenge real fast, especially with dogs, rain, and a wildly imaginative 2 a.m. brain.
The detail about wearing long underwear and ankle boots to Steak ‘n Shake? That’s fashion-meets-function realness. And honestly, who among us hasn’t eaten glove compartment ketchup like it’s a delicacy?
Reading this just reinforces my deep appreciation for glamping. All the cozy nature feels, but with a real roof, a private bath, and zero campground murderers (hopefully). I still want that morning mist and thunderstorm drama — just preferably from under a heated blanket with room service coffee.
Thank you for sharing this hilarious, human story. It makes me want to plan a post-rain glamping retreat stat — hot cocoa, fleece throws, maybe even a storm-ready dog bed for Swirl.