Jennifer is an avid adventurer, a bookworm, and a
college student, who likes to travel on the weekends and who spends most of
her spare time doing homework or shopping for cheap shoes. She also likes to
think of herself as a great older sister and an indulgent mother to her Chihuahua.
Most people wouldn't want to camp in bad weather. Some people say it's
dangerous during the hot southern summers because of the storms. Occasionally
on a steamy summer afternoon in Dixie, a violent thunderstorm will roll across
the horizon when the temperature rises very high. A very logical and sensible
reason to avoid camping during hot, rainy weather, right? Uh-huh.
Keep in mind, however, that not every person is a sensible person.
For a seasoned, slightly daring weekend warrior like myself, camping, for
some reason, sounded like fun. I packed my white Ford truck down with camping gear, tarps and soggy
firewood. I was ready.
My camping buddy Rebecca and I couldn't wait to escape from our normal, boring lives for a
little bit of adventure. We needed a change of scenery. This weekend's new scenery would be at Alabama's DeSoto State Park.
According to the brochures, websites and people we'd talked to about our chosen destination, we were in for a beautiful trip. DeSoto is the home of
deep green forests and cascading falls. Beautiful sunrises and majestic waterfalls can be obscured by dark clouds and
low rumbles from the sky though.
As we crossed the Alabama state line, Rebecca and I noticed the sky was slowly turning a pewter gray shade. It looked like slate, covering the
clear blue sky we knew was there--somewhere. We just had to keep driving. Surely we'd drive out of the storm in an hour or so. After all,
there was still quite a distance between us and Fort Payne. The sky looked more and more foreboding as we approached Fort Payne. Within
ten miles of the city, the sky was turning black. We were intimidated, but
still game.
"It looks like it's going to storm," I said. "What'd the forecast say?"
Rebecca looked over at me and shrugged. "Does it matter? It's not like we're going to turn around or anything."
She had a point. Rebecca and I, you see, are experts. We’re always prepared
for the worst. Luckily, DeSoto isn't just a campground. There are chalets,
hotel rooms and cabins to rent.
As the rain poured down, we darted into the lodge at DeSoto State Park. Unlike its soaked, shivering new arrivals, the lodge was warm and inviting.
Teeth-chattering, dripping wet with only a tent, wet firewood and a credit
card, we approached the front desk, praying that at least one room was open.
A friendly woman park employee, dressed in a uniform of brown button-up shirt and green
walking shorts, found a room for Rebecca and me.
While waiting for her to process my credit card, we had a few minutes to look
around the lodge. Everything was decorated in wood and hunter green--the rustic style that avid campers and travelers are used to seeing. There was
also a restaurant in the lodge. Our first stroke of luck. Rebecca, drenched and miserable, noticed
it first.
"Are you as hungry as I am?" she asked me.
"I'm starving, but let's go to the room first and drop our things," I answered.
She agreed.
Drenched, dejected and hungry, we took our room key and our heavy hiker’s backpacks to our room. What we found was
pleasant for a park lodge room -- cable TV, soft, comfortable beds and a nice decorating scheme much
like that of the lodge. Not bad for $65.00 a night. Since we were already wet, no umbrellas were necessary when we sprinted back
to the lodge. It had been hours since we’d eaten, and the food smelled so
good.
The rain stopped after lunch. The break in the clouds was supposed to last for a few hours, so Rebecca and I decided to go on a short hike.
DeSoto offers a wide range of hiking trails. Some of them are easy walks through beautiful wildflowers. Others are more difficult and require good
boots and a strong back. Rebecca and I, being the young adventurers that we are, hiked on some of the more difficult trails.
The green trees, temporarily blue skies and soft, rushing waterfalls were
absolutely breathtaking.
Nighttime brought us more rain and a broken toilet. I was in charge of calling the front desk and asking for help.
"We need a plunger," I said, wanting to put the problem as delicately as possible. No one really wants to hear an in-depth explanation for why a toilet
breaks.
The friendly voice on the other line assured me that help was coming soon. While I was on the phone, Rebecca opened the door, allowing the heavy, humid
air into the room. It was hot outside, she reasoned, but it was even hotter
inside. Maybe the night air would cool us off.
Enter the frog. Apparently, while we were enjoying the air, watching TV and waiting for our plunger, a very large green frog had decided to take
refuge in our bathroom. About the time we were chasing the frog around the bathroom, trying to scoop
him up in a plastic cup, two very young, very handsome park rangers arrived at
our open door with the plunger.
Rebecca and I were mortified. I'm sure I turned every shade of red imaginable.
Being the single women that we are, we both wanted to be very suave and clever around these fine looking gentlemen, but it was difficult to do while
trying to coax a frog into a plastic cup. Needless to say, they got a good
laugh out of us.
We went to bed early--exhausted from a day of rain, hiking and mishaps. The next day, it stormed. We decided to cut our losses, leave behind the
beautiful waterfalls and the cozy lodge, and go home. What kind of people go
camping in the rain, anyway?
FYI: DeSoto State Park is located just
outside of Fort Payne, Alabama, off of State Highway 59. A quick Yahoo
search will offer you many websites of the park and the surrounding area.
It's worth a trip, either via computer or in real life!
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