Under The Tarp

Amongst our camping trips, there had been some rain here and there.

Sometimes, it’s a light rain shower that relieves the heat, no worries. 

Sometimes it’s bad in the middle of the night. There was at least one night where we got very little sleep because there was so much lightning and thunder along with a torrential downpour in the middle of the night, I really thought the entire tent would collapse. The next morning, it was if it never happened.

One weekend, it was Jim, Mike, myself and a day full of intermittent showers, so we made a day of it. We’d fashioned an overhead tarp with clear plastic, so we could see the rain hitting the tarp, the impact circles, the waves flowing across the transparent ceiling. Mike and Jim would often bring their guitars and play on trips (or I should say tune up for an unidentified amount of time) and this seemed to be a perfect time to break ’em out. I was attempting percussion and vocals. If this were to be a band, I’d always refer to it as “Under the Tarp”. The jam session went all afternoon long but did yield one result — “Black Bag of Sausage”. What ho…. you say you’ve never heard it? Well, you probably never will because I never wrote it down but here’s a tiny bit:

Got a black bag o’ sausage

Got a black bag o’ sausage

Well it’s hard and it’s wet

Didn’t get it from a vet

And it’s not for you or me

It’s HIS charcuterie 

Got a black bag o’ sausage

*Side note: this was also the trip where, having seen Goodfella’s, I was doing a non stop Joe Pesci impersonation. “what, am I a clown?”. Even then, I was a delight. 

Another weekend, Jim and I found ourselves in an untenable position, where the storms were non stop and our tent became compromised. The entire campsite was a muddy swamp, and the temperature was dropping, so we said screw it, abandoned everything, hopped in the car and retreated to the Super 8. 

The world of camping really can not compare to room service or taking a dip in the hot tub. Yes, the Super 8 is as luxurious as the Ritz when you’re refugees from destroyed campsite. 

So yes, when it rained, one way or another, we made lemonade out of that bitch.