A funny thing happened on the way to the campsite

I struggled to recall a funny family story because I don’t have the best memory and never have. For instance, I need to travel a specific route many times before I know it. I’m hard-pressed to remember a store location if I’ve only been there once. I won’t even mention my poor sense of direction. All I can say is, thank goodness for GPS. But there is one incident that I hope is amusing, in a comedy of errors sort of way.

Many years ago, on one of our family camping expeditions, Hubby, our two sons, and I loaded the canoes with supplies and provisions and set off on a five-day circuit along three lakes in Kejimkujik National Park here in Nova Scotia. We would camp at a different site every night, and paddle and/or portage for a few hours every day.

Now, because we would have limited contact with the outside world (cell towers were few and far between back then), we double and triple checked everything as we unloaded the car. The parking lot was a good fifteen-minute hike from the boat launch and we had to make several trips back and forth with the two canoes and all our stuff. Our two boys were twelve and ten years old at the time and could carry only so much.

Anyway, we finally got underway after a picnic lunch and enjoyed a leisurely paddle to our first campsite. The weather was fine and we took our time setting up camp, exploring a nearby trail, and hunting for snakes. Son1 was determined to catch a garter snake. (He did later in the trip and got a good snakebite for his trouble. And still proudly carries the scar.)

On our first night of one of these trips I always cook a regular meal using perishable food because subsequent meals will be freeze-dried or dehydrated “casseroles” which we’ll be thoroughly tired of by the end. Along about six o’clock I set up the kitchen with the compact one-burner stove, the small frying pan with folding handle, and the pound of ground beef for our burger feast. Imagine my frustration when I couldn’t get the stove to light. There was plenty of fuel, I’d lit the stove countless times before, and so I had no clue what I was doing wrong. I called hubby over and, after a few minutes of fiddling, he determined that an essential piece of the stove was missing, a little valve or something. Well…now imagine my frustration. The stove had been intact when he loaded the car so the piece must have fallen out when he gave the stove one last check in the parking lot.

The park regulations forbid using a campfire for cooking, leaving us with only one option. Hubby and Son1, being the strongest pair, set off on the three hour round trip in a race against nightfall. Son2 and I tried to amuse ourselves while waiting – which wasn’t easy. When the sun dipped below the horizon we settled on the little wooden dock because there was more lingering light at the water’s edge than under the canopy of trees. We counted frogs based on their noises, tried to identify birds as they flew home to roost, and marveled at the call of the loons in the perfect stillness.

I let out a sigh of relief when I heard the unmistakeable sound of a paddle hitting the side of a canoe. Son2 and I turned on our flashlights and became a human lighthouse to guide home the rescue team. They were hot and tired because they’d paddled at full steam and run to the parking lot. Sure enough, the missing stove part had been lying on the ground next to our car.

Dinner was late that night but those hamburgers were the most delicious we’d ever eaten.

~

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. She spends her days writing spicy romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and historical romance. When not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious. She lives in Nova Scotia with her patient husband and two spoiled cats.

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Her newest book, If I Didn't Care, is available at your favourite online retailer.

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