Mayhem and Madness

Driving by the Corpus Christi Navy Lodge on the first evening of this past weekend's mother-daughter camping adventure, Hayley wistfully commented that she wished we could just stay there. This was an understandable sentiment considering she was on crutches, still recovering from last month's foot surgery. Hopping in and out of a tent was precarious and tiring. I perceived that her wishful thinking also had something to do with hot and cold running water, beds, lamps, and other modern conveniences.

"Nothing beats camping," I countered. "And think of the memories we'll be making."

I was right. We woke up the next morning refreshed and eager to hit the beach. Once there, we walked/crutched on the sand, wolfed down a picnic breakfast with hearty, salt-air appetites, and splashed in the water. Hayley paddled into the waves on her surfboard, but learned the hard way that if you can't walk, then you probably shouldn't try to hang ten. (Yesterday's x-ray showed that the foot will probably be okay after all.)

We visited the Corpus Christi A&M campus--the purported reason for our trip, went shopping, and returned to the beach to watch the orange-streaked sky of sunset. At the end of the day, Hayley welcomed the comfort of tent and sleeping bag as much as I did.

Just as we both drifted off to sleep, mayhem and madness struck. One moment there was not so much as a whisper of a breeze, and the next, gale force winds slammed ashore, collapsing our nylon tent and flailing it about like a giant distress signal flag. Terrified, Hayley hopped to the car for cover while I battled the roaring winds and and tent flappage in an heroic effort to drag out all of our belongings and load them up.

When all was said and done, the splintered poles and frayed nylon of our former tent ended up in the dumpster--nothing but a memory. And, happily, Hayley enjoyed two nights in the Navy Lodge with hot and cold running water, beds, lamps, and all the conveniences of home.