This past weekend, Ian and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary by heading up to Big Ridge State Park for a little tent camping. We initially had intended to camp for two nights, but rain moved in on Sunday morning and we were afraid we wouldn’t be able to find any dry firewood for that evening. That, and camping in the rain just plain sucks balls.
So instead, we hiked about five miles through some very wooded (and VERY steep at times—whoever selects the trails’ difficulty levels needs to stop trying to impress someone) and very gorgeous trails, and then packed up our campsite and headed out.
A side note: I love camping and can generally handle the accompanying bugs in their natural habitat much better than I could, say, my house, but I had a run-in with a stickbug in the bath house that still has my skin crawling. That thing just should not exist in nature; it’s a goddamn alien if I’ve ever seen one. I’m also convinced that it stole my Nashville flood t-shirt that I was carrying to the bath house to change into that morning. As soon as I saw that abortion of nature’s beauty and stifled a scream, I noticed my t-shirt—that I had carried maybe 100 yards IN MY HANDS—was missing. Coincidence? Or EVIL FUCKING STICKBUG THAT WILL EAT YOUR BRAINS? You decide. I scoured the path from our campsite to the bath house at least three times and no shirt was ever found. RIP, comfy Nashville flood t-shirt.
On the way home, Ian indulged me and we drove local highways instead of the interstate most of the way home. There’s something calming and humanizing about driving through teeny tiny towns in the middle of nowhere, and I’ll choose a highway over the interstate pretty much any chance I get. Especially since roughly 500 miles of my life are spent on interstate asphalt each week.
Our actual anniversary was Monday, and we celebrated by hanging around the house with the cats and grilling out that night. Tuesday we tailgated the MTSU Blackout Game on campus with some friends, leaving us with Wednesday to recover and mentally prepare for heading back to work on Thursday.
And you know, I thought I was a genius, scheduling my vacation so that when I went back to work I’d only have two days before the next weekend, but let me tell you: These two days have dragged on like weeks. TGIF for sure, but I just want to go back to the woods.