We decided to go to the foothills again this weekend and tent solo at the near Platte River before it gets too cold here.
Here is a camping trip with the us Foster's.
Along with some things that you shouldn't do.
We packed up. Everything from a portable potty to blow up mattresses.
Gotta be comfortable, right?
(Really it's just cuz we have kiddos in tow now.)
We decided to leave a few inches in the car for them.
We eventually found a spot to pitch the tent. It was perfect. It took my Boy Scout of a man no time at all to set up camp. (Conquering the sweat, flies, red ants...)
Water-n-two girls. Never a dull moment.
When we lived in Olympic National Park when J was a park ranger, we backpacked a lot and tented in the most beautiful places. This spot was totally at the top of the list.
Started a fire for our "foil packets". A wonderful pile of potatoes, chicken, bacon, mushrooms, onion and garlic.
Alright, not so wonderful.
Cooked wAaaaY too long on the coals. We chowed on burnt eeeeww for dinner.
Not cool.
Okay, let's try "banana boats" (the Girl Scout in me).
Slice open a banana, put marshmallows and chocolate chips inside. Roll it up in foil, toss it in the fire...
FOR. A. COUPLE. MINUTES.
It made up for the pathetic dinner.
This spot was lovely, until it started ...raining! All snuggled up, our ears were filled with raindrops and river water rolling all night.
The next morning, after some not all burnt blueberry pancakes we had to PACK UP.
Yes, less than a 18 hour camping trip!
A sheriff approached us and apparently we were camped illegally.
There was no camping allowed along the river and no fires allowed either.
We played the "duh, we are new here and from Texas card" and luckily didn't get ticketed/fined.
There you go. Camping with the Foster clan.
