Into the Woods.

Imagine a fish out of water. Now imagine a girl who has spent the entire summer in the hot concrete jungle of New York City venturing into the frigid wilderness of Nickerson State Park in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Not too different really.

Finding myself without internet... or an electrical socket for that matter, I made myself write down a few scribbles to chronicle my camping experience. But first, let me set the scene:

Malone Family Camping Trip 2008. 19 people. 2 dogs. 7 tents.

In case you don't have the pleasure of experiencing a family camping trip of your own, here is a little taste of mine:

Day 1:
Parents scoop me up from NYC. While loading stuff, passing car hits our side mirror. Mirror survives. On the road, Mom hands out lunch: homemade turkey sandwiches. After one bite, discover the "fiber" bread... and return sandwich to bag. Arrive at camp site. Tyler and I set up the tent. Dad re-sets up tent. Cell phone blinking low batt. Hamburgers and dogs for dinner.

Night 1:
I awake to Taz (Golden Retriever) sprawled out on my air mattress. Snoring fills the air. No sleep.

Day 2:
17 mile bike ride. Cell phone dead. Caffeine headache. No DDP [Diet Dr. Pepper]. After a swim in the lake, don winter gear [jeans, fleece, scarf, jacket]. Still cold. Learn to play Tri-animos [like dominoes]. Win. Meatballs, cake, and wine for dinner.

Night 2:
Bedtime 8:15 PM. Fall asleep before snorers enter tent. Dog attempts to take mattress. Fight back. Fail.

Day 3:
Wake up to worm on pillow. Caffeine headache. Bike ride to the beach. Wonder how I made it up the hills on bike yesterday. Pain. Two-hour "reading" time, aka nap time. Discover Mike's Pomegranate flavor. Drive with dad for a secret ice cream at Colby's. Go on a tour of Cape Cod... aka use the car cell phone charger. Accumulate 2 bars. Baked potatoes for dinner.

Night 3:
Russian singing cult moves into neighboring camp site. The later the hour, the louder the singing.

Day 4:
Drive 1 hour to P-town with hopes of acquiring caffeine. Arrive at P-town in downpour. Purchase $15 sweatshirt and return home to wet camp. Stop at grocery store. Purchase DDP. Russian singing cult performs encore. Half of our site disappears to go listen and chat with Russian singing cult. Mom makes chili for dinner. Campfire games. Thunder and lightning.

Night 4:
Chili for dinner... take a guess.

Day 5:
Go for a hike around the lake. Taz and Bindi (chihuahua) lead the pack. Test immunity to poison ivy. Go to beach. Discover Boccie skills. Pull Bicep. Spaghetti for dinner. Game of Scat. Lose. Discover the Crantini. Smores.

Night 5:
Fog horn snoring.

Day 6: Dunkin Donuts. Pack the car. Carve out room to sit. 10 hours on the road. A clean shower at home signals the end of camp.

And since my mother announced to the entire family that I would be writing about the trip in my blog [Thanks again Mom], I've decided to include some camp awards for the 19 Malone Camping Trip survivors:

Sir Spamalot Award: Brian
Monster Energy Award: Dane
Big Blue Engineering Award: Donald
Little Big Man Award: Ian
Miss Marsh Mellow Award: Annika
Youngest Homeowner Award: Joe
Polar Bear Award: Hannah
Card Shark Award: Nana
Best Future Russian Cult Member Award: Colin
Dog Whisperer Award: Susan
Lance Armstrong Award: John
Brings Home the Bacon Award: Tim
Miss Crantini Award: Brenda
Rip Van Winkle Award: Debbie
Biggest Geek Award: Tyler
City Slicker Award: Chris
Boccie Babe: Katie
Most Helpful Award: Pablo
Camp Shiner Award: Dan
Big Dawg Award: Taz
Lap Dog Award: Bindi

And Brian, as promised, I included your picture.