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At The Campground


DrGravitas

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As we shamble forward, dead on our feet, the lifeless rocky terrain of the South Kaibab trail gives way to a verdant oasis: the Bright Angel campground. A rich canyon floor dotted with colorful domes and colorful people. The hikers who periodically passed us on the trail were polite and friendly and the people of the campground are no different. Words of sympathy and encouragement wash over us as the canopy above dapples and diffuses the harsh sun into pleasant light. We find an open campsite, number 9. A small plot of sand delineated by stones and separated by other such plots by a thin strip of greenery. The plot sit next a small bank leading to shallow creek. We relieve the burden of our packs on the plot's parkbench and find ourselves a moment of rest.

Before long, we set back to work. Stiff limbs pull through the packs, unloading supplies on the rubber-covered wire tabletop. Mess-kit, portable stove, dinnerware and everything you'd need for dinner. Except for water, having exhausted our supply on the desert trail. While the others prepared camp and dinner, it fell to me to pump it. With convienent stone seat, I drop the "dirty" labelled intake hose into the creek and begin to pump. Immediately, the dirty hose's connection to the filler pump pops off. I scramble to grab a small white disk before it washes away. Consulting with my father, we determine that the connection's busted and that the disk prevents back-flow. Our innovative solution is to hold the connection together with one hand while pumping with the other. Water seeps out the connection as I slowly work through the collective 9 liters of our camelback waterpacks. By the end of it, my pant leg is refreshingly soaked.

Dinner consists of freeze dried food, rehydrated and cooked by boiling water. I have a surprisingly delicious spagetti and meat sauce. Once complete, we clean our utensils in more boiling water. By the end of it, we've used the 9 liters and it's time to pump more for bottling. The oasis is deceptive and the desert air still steals water from our bodies. We must remain hydrated.

The Ranger stops by to check our permits and welcome us. Conversation turns to weather and she reassures us that a 40% chance of rain also a 60% chance of no rain. This is the desert, afterall.

 

 

You know what? I'm sick of this entry. It's tedious, boring to read and badly written. Let's cut to the chase: I go to bed early at 7:30. I wake up around 3am to stumble to the restroom under the full moon, like a werewolf whose just transformed for the first time. It's a real flush toilet, but a busted pipe means we flush it by pouring a bucket of water in it real fast. The End.

 

I'll try to make the next entry suck less.

 

 

 

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