Camping - That's Good! That's Bad!

We got away for a short, overnight camping trip this weekend. The planning of it was anything but short. My oldest sister has talked of going along with us for a year and many recent phonecalls to coordinate were made. The crew going had me visualizing anything but easy. They've got a 6+ month old babe and a hyper dog. Add them to our three and our we'd-rather-leave-you-home-but-they're-taking-theirs-yes-we'll-take-ours dog, and I had visuals of things going real bad. Real bad.

But, now that the camping has come and gone, we survived and it really wasn't bad. There was good mixed in. The whole trip actually reminds me of a picturebook titled That's Good! That's Bad! where the events flipflop between fortunate fun and an unfortunate twist. One moment good. Immediately followed up with one moment bad. Then back to another moment good! A "That's good. That's bad." storyline explains our weekend's experience:

A sister to head up with and split the food assignments with. That's good.

Another car ride requiring buckles strapped over wailing boy. That's bad.

A lunch break in Kamas for heavenly small town eats. That's good.
A line forever long of hungry folks who know of this roadside drive in. That's bad.

A pitstop to revisit Provo Falls that we'd taken Meg to when a babe. That's good.
A dog (our black mutt) inhaling the river water and then puking all contents of his stomach near tourists' feet!! That's bad.

A drive past the Uintas' beautiful pines and lakes. That's good.

A drive into our campground (Moosehorn) to realize the site isn't too removed from the highway's loud traffic. That's bad.

An ample amount of space in the huge borrowed tent. That's good.
A rocky campsite which had us pitching the the huge dome on the driveway's wide patch of gravel. That's bad.

A couple of girls who entertained themselves by 'building their own fireplace' in the site's trees. That's good.

A yucky-nosed boy who managed to fall and skin his knees repeatedly. That's bad.

A potty-trained boy who toddled around in dundies, woke up dry, and waited to pee over the (nasty) vault toilet. That's good.

A boy who took no liking to peeing by a tree, no matter how much encouragement. That's bad.

A picturesque lake that we slowly enjoyed at motorless speed. That's good.
An anxious dog sitting shoreside that barked loud enough for all fishermen to hear each time we rowed out of sight. That's bad.

A couple of guys with tackle boxes to help the excited girls learn to fish. That's good.
A couple of dogs that either tangled themselves in the line or barked at the unknown string, and unsuccessful fishing. That's bad.

A late night to enjoy the full moon, glowsticks, and campfire flames. That's good.
A night that was filled too late with the loud stories from other campfires. That's bad.

A line of sleeping kids that didn't fight the sleeping hour. That's good.
A rainstorm that rolled in right at the sleeping hour and kept Mom awake all night. That's bad.

An authentic soundtrack of rain on the rooftop. That's good.
A puddle of water on everything left out. That's bad.

A crisp early morning in the pines. That's good.

An earlier pack up hour and missed hikes. That's bad.

A chance to have escaped the heat of Suburbia for a final time this Summer. That's good.

A reality check that Summer has come to an end and school starts up in just a week. That's bad...and good!

While there switching goods and bads in each moment, I'd still vote that the trip wins as good. Even with dogs that were a major pain. Even with the mess of repacking in the wet morning. Even with the kids saying how glad they are to be back home. We all still claim to have enjoyed it. Any trip out of town holds some redeeming good.