I. Hate. People. And improved sites. Which have people at them.

A never mind to that last post. The only good thing about improved sites is the spigots. Everything else sucks. Like icky biffies that are never pumped (going in the bushes is so much better). And other people, who are often worse than unpumped biffies.


Yeah, so anyway, I went camping again last weekend, with my family, for my grandpa's 80th? 81st? Anyway, for my grandpa's birthday. We set up our tent, got all settled in, and had fun on the first night. We had two sites, so we spent most of our time at the bigger one, even though our tent was set up at the other one. I spent most my time crocheting my sweater, which I'm still not done with because I'm putting it off. But the next day we didn't have the big site reserved anymore, so we moved to the smaller one. Herein starts my rant.

Our tent had an obvious path to the tent. Beyond that was an obvious foot traffic trail, so not one that was actually supposed to be used. Moreover, our tent was set up on an obvious rounded raised surface, which was the tent site for the area we were at. Not that hard to tell. However, people kept pushing past our tent to get to Mirror Lake, which is where we were at, following this tiny trial around it and being otherwise rude and stupid on our site.

So we started on this massive crusade to stop this from happening. I moved a bunch of rocks so the top of the trail didn't look so inviting anymore. That didn't work. So we hung a bunch of rope on our site to "hang laundry" on. During this step, some absolute bitches (only word for them. Actually, too mild a word for them) pushed past, nearly snapping the rope and muttering, "why not just cut it down?" or something like that. At which point my aunts and them traded words such as "um, this is our campsite, how would you feel if we trespassed on your camp site", to which the teme-ra replied snootily "well, if you didn't put your tent right in the way (in the only tent spot our campsite had), this is the official trail everyone points out, we've been coming here for ten years". Um, well, our family'd been coming for over 40 years. . . .

So we set up our rope, put a chair in the way of the path, and hung some "laundry" on the ropes, then got back to our chatting, hoping this would solve the matter. No. People continued to just push past our laundry, sometimes knocking it on the ground, stepping under and over the ropes rather than taking the path around our tent and the laundry. Do I need to mention again that I hate people?

But that's not all: the bitches were back, and with a vengeance, determined to prove that they were right. They'd managed to gather (I swear) half of the people camping at Mirror Lake this weekend, and set everyone to trample straight past our tent, over and under our laundry, knocking as much as they could to the ground in the process, and complaining loudly about the "morons" who had put this stuff in their way. We basically ignored them, tossing out a "thanks for getting our clean laundry dirty again" line, then went to pick it all up again once they were gone.

One problem. My hot pink bra, which we'd hung in a last ditch effort to scare people away, was missing. So not only did these teme-ra violate our campsite and basically vandalize our stuff, they also stole my bra, which had been clothes-pinned, so it's not like it just walked off on its own. I mean, really? Come on. As I was told once by a person of the same caliber of these bitches, "act your age, not your shoe size".

I mean, it was just a ten dollar Walmart bra, but still, that's pretty low. Actually, it's pretty pathetic. Really? You want my sweaty bra? Okay. . . you've got problems. That'll be fun explaining in the afterlife. . . .

Long story short, we never found the bra, so I came back from camping one short. And with a new hate of improved sites. Hiking and having to pack everything in and out is well worth getting away from people. Although they did get to push past a wet dog towel. I think it hit every single one of them in the face. That makes me feel at least a bit better.