Oregon150

by Rosanna
Roseburg, OR

With summer fast approaching, my longtime friend Debbie and I begin to think about planning summer camping trips. Debbie and her family have recently moved back to Douglas County after living in Alaska, Washington, and Portland, so we are looking forward to some local camping trips. We were both born and raised in the Roseburg area, so we know plenty of places about an hour’s drive from home to camp.

The subject of camping almost always brings up our memories of our camping trip from hell as we like to call it. It started out just fine. We loaded everything up on a Friday afternoon, including Debbie’s horse, and headed to Glide and up Little River. After unloading the horse and tethering him to a nearby tree, we went about setting up camp. When we were done setting up the tent and getting things put away, we took a break at the picnic table.

All of a sudden the horse went wild. He was in the middle of our camp bucking and kicking as if he were in a rodeo. The rope had gotten tangled between his legs, and he was in a panic trying to free himself from the rope but only succeeded in getting more tangled. Mark, Debbie’s husband, tried to jump on the horse, but ended up just hanging from its neck. They both ended up in a tangled pile on the ground. Nobody was hurt, thankfully, but that was only the start of things.

That night it began to pour down rain. My husband and I took refuge for the night in our V.W. Baja. The next morning, as we warmed ourselves around the fire, Debbie’s five-year-old nephew took a tumble backwards into the fire. Luckily he only received a small burn on his bottom. I think it scared him (and us) more than anything.

In the afternoon it warmed up enough so we could go for a swim. Somehow as I dove under the water I got hung up on the rock ledge at the bank and couldn’t get to the surface. I finally managed to get my head above water, but that ended my swimming for the day.

Later that night, as we sat in the tent playing cards, we noticed what we thought was a shadow on the wall of the tent next to where Debbie’s nephew was sleeping. Upon further investigation we discovered it was a scorpion; it is now a pickled scorpion having been placed in a jar and covered with 100 proof vodka.

By Sunday morning I think we were all happy to break camp and head for home. Now more than twenty years later, we think about that trip and laugh. I’m hoping our camping trips this summer don’t involve crazy horses, children falling in fires, near drowning and scorpions, but being in Oregon they might include some rain. But that’s ok. I look forward to spending time with my friends and family here in Oregon.