Imagine this picture, only in the dark, after a long drive down a rocky dirt road with a six-year-old scared that the bears would get her in the back of the van. That would be us on Friday night, driving to South Skookum Campground. Apparently the ranger I have talked to earlier in the day had been wrong about it being open. It closed on Labor Day, which was the weekend before!

Skookum is one of those wonderful secluded campgrounds, you know, the ones without phone reception? Which is awesome, except when you are stuck out there late at night with no way to tell the people who are coming up the next day that it is closed. However, we are a stubborn resourceful group of Pagans, so with a little bit of exploring by lantern light, we were delighted to find the host site was only 200 yards down the road and that someone had left the outhouse unlocked (double score!)

So we hoofed the basics down there (tents, sleeping bags and diapers,) pitched the tents and settled in for the night. Sal played his Native American flute for a time, a beautiful sound to drift off to sleep with. I did wake up three times during the night. A couple of the times were for Damian’s usual nursing and changing^[1] and once was to the sound of coyotes in the distance and something scamper past my tent (possibly a chupacabra or a baby sasquatch…)

The view coming out of our tents in the morning completely made up for Friday night’s misadventures though:
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