Of course, sometimes when you say yes to everything that might end up being fun, you also could end up sleeping on the ground in a tent, freezing fully dressed in a sleeping bag under two blankets, wanting to murder every crow ever invented and maybe also the sun. Having been camping twice now, I think I can say it is not the lifestyle for me. I never understood the point of camping in Florida, where everything wants to eat you, and I don't really understand it here where hypothermia sets in after dark. I like nature best when I can go to a place with walls after experiencing it. It seems like it would be really easy to be murdered through a tent wall. I mean, even easier than it is to be murdered all the rest of the time.
It's lucky, then, that it's pretty impossible to be miserable and awake when things are this beautiful and people are that funny. I'd never spent any time on Hood Canal before, and though it wasn't clam digging time there were a lot of tiny crabs to look at and rocks to throw and sausages to eat. When the tide came in the water was warm enough for wading, which was a nice surprise. While I would prefer to never ever have to sleep in a tent again, camping at Potlatch was definitely a mighty pretty way to kick off my birthday week.
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