Terrible Analogies

There’s a semi-secret primitive camping site that isn’t well known in Anza Borrego and those that use it are typically well behaved seasoned campers out to enjoy a relaxing time under a pristine evening sky.  Last night we caught a break and had the entire campgrounds to ourselves.  Luckily for us not everybody had MLK day off.  With no fear of bothering anyone (we’re very considerate towards our fellow campers) we turned up the music, set up our tents, and fired up the grill.  Once we were settled in I took some time to venture away from camp to grab myself a refreshing bottled water shower on a large flat rock overlooking the encroaching sunset.  If you ever go camping I highly suggest you follow suit.  Trust me, you’ll thank me later.

Cleaned and refreshed, I wandered back into camp and found a few empty beer bottles already littering the camp site, and Ron sprawled out on the ground peering through the telescope of his powerful spring powered air rifle loaded with pellets taking aim at our sole plastic bottle of ketchup, which I thought we were going to use for dinner.  I swear I heard him softly mutter something about “death before dishonor” while slowly squeezing the trigger and fatally gutting the tasty condiment.

Stocked up with a cache of Monster I was ready to hit the road

It was when our driver began to throw back a few road beers that I knew this trip might at any moment go completely sideways. There was no turning back now...

My first order of business was to set up my tent...

Well armed, Ron takes aim at our only roll of toilet paper

The sun slowly sets behind our camp

When it was time to start the fire, it quickly became obvious that Paul was never a Boy Scout.

Camp fire and wine bottles

Two of the wine bottles Ron managed to knock back. After downing them he claimed to still be thirsty. Animal!