At long last, something worth blogging about

We just got back from camping overnight in Shenandoah National Park. We've been anxiously watching the weather for weeks, hoping that we could catch that elusive point on the calender when it was warm enough to be out all night but I wasn't yet pregnant enough to preclude such an outing. Here at the end of April (29 weeks gestation and counting), those points finally coincided.

We drove out yesterday afternoon and were told when we got to the park that the closest open campsite was 50 miles away (with a speed limit of 35mph all through the park) and that there may or may not be spots available. Having packed up all our camping goods, not eager to drive back to Reston in a car without air conditioning, and hungry for hot dogs and s'mores, we decided to press on, and after about an hour and a half of driving through the steadily-cooling evening air were rewarded with a one of the last spots available. Surprisingly, it was a great spot, relatively secluded yet close to the bathrooms. We (okay, Matt) drove in, set up camp, and collected firewood, then set to work grilling hot dogs.

I don't even know if I can remember the last time I ate a hot dog. I was a vegetarian between the ages of 13 and 21, and I can't remember having had one since then. I remember as a child I hated hot dogs that had been grilled (I don't think I've ever had one that was actually cooked over an open fire) and anytime we went to a cookout, either peeling off the blackened skin or begging my mom just to boil mine on the stove.

What can I say--my palate must have matured since then, because I wolfed down more organic nitrite-free beef hot dogs than I care to admit. I still prefer them roasted as opposed to blackened, but boy, were they good. The second course, obviously, consisted of s'mores. By this point the light was fading, and so we sat around the fire and read by flashlight, enjoying the lovely warm evening.

We had packed an air mattress to buffer the effects of being seven months' pregnant and sleeping on the ground, but unfortunately we found as we inflated it that it was peppered with tiny holes. (Last summer, we would have found the idea of paying for a drive-up campsite, sleeping on an air mattress, and using fully functioning indoor bathrooms total anathema to the whole idea of camping, but I'm also in very different shape than I was last summer, and we're guessing this isn't the first time parenthood will force us to change our tune about something.) We got out the patch kit and placed several patches, but were feeling less than optimistic as we drifted off to sleep on it. Sure enough, we woke up an hour or two later with our butts touching ground. We let the rest of the air out and went back to sleep--not a hugely restful sleep, as I had to switch sides about every hour because my hip would go numb, but I woke up no more stiff or sore than I am when I get out of bed in the morning, for which I was thankful. My back and pelvic pain actually seem to be aggravated by soft surfaces, and so I'm wondering whether I wouldn't have been in worse shape had we gone the whole night on the air mattress.

We woke up between 5:30 and 6, just in time to catch the sunrise and a ton of deer grazing. We enjoyed the lack of other cars on the way down the mountain, and also managed to catch a glimpse (and a slightly fuzzy picture) of this guy:

A BOBCAT! What fun.

Not ready to call it quits quite yet, we drifted back to the highway via a couple of small towns (Sperryville and Washington), both of which were sleepy and charming and made us want to move out to the country to live in a little town in the shadow of the mountains ourselves. Maybe someday...

Memo to the baby: Don't say we never took you anywhere