Here’s part three!
Strangely enough; it was my dad that collapsed this time when we stopped. Maybe the elevation finally took its toll, or maybe he shouldn’t have eaten those berries we found; but either way, we had made it. Made it to what you may ask? Oh yes, just the entire campsite under a foot of water! It was getting dark; and even I knew that it was becoming a necessity to find a camp site soon. Climbing a hill, we found a semi -open spot, well hidden, and with a rock fire ring. “This isn’t right.” Dad stated pulling out the biggest map I’d ever seen. “There isn’t a ninth campsite in this area; this is an illegal one.”
“Dad, I understand you like to stick to rules and all, but there’s nowhere else to go. It’s too late and too dangerous to head back or forward. Now, unless you prefer sleeping underwater; I suggest we stay here.” In the end he agreed. We made a fire, wolfed down our dinner, and hung the rest from a tree. After dad caught me trying to sneak some pop tarts into the tent, we went to bed.
Morning came too quickly, as it always does. Poking my head out of the tent, I gazed at something truly beautiful. My dad was cooking bacon! The food of all foods, the holy grail of pork made dishes; it was bacon! In between a butter croissant, forget it. Suddenly this camping trip seemed that much better. I was disappointed about the quick breakfast, but enjoyed it extensively. Skipping ahead to that evening, it was near dark when the next campsite came into view. In between my heaving I managed to choke out, “We…only hiked…two miles…and…it took…the whole…day!?” To explain why this was an issue, the last two miles were entirely up hill, with our heavy packs weighing us down. With the constant stops to rest and adjust to the altitude, we took a while.
It hadn’t rained tonight luckily, so setting up the tent was a breeze. Just sitting around the campfire, chatting and enjoying tasty snacks; it was kind of fun. Dusk had just fallen, the last rays of the sun disappearing behind the mountains. In the two miles we had hiked, we had managed to circle around and rest at the end of a valley. The lake was just another two miles up the mountain. Dad had said we would leave the packs here this time. The bats had come out to hunt, flying only a few feet above our heads. They zipped and dipped around catching insects over and over. There must have been dozens of them up there.
“Hello?” I could just barely hear it. A small and almost indiscernible sound against the wind. “Did you hear that?” I asked my father. He looked up; half a Slim Jim hanging from his mouth. We heard it again. Faint, but coming closer. “Hello?” he asked. Almost immediately we heard another reply. Out of the darkness came two figures. One was a girl about my age, and a man that I assumed was her father. They had gotten off the trail coming down from the mountain, and had been turned around. There were plenty of campsites in the immediate area, so they decided to sleep here.