Because northern Utah likes to taunt us with torrential rain when it really should be following through with promises of exotic desert-summer-like-weather instead, best friend Anna and I decided to take a camping trip.  We googledthe weather in Utah and decided to drive as far as the rain stopped.  This little trick suggested we head to St. George- so I snuck out of work a little early and we were off.

Ways in which Anna and I prepared for our epic camping season-opener:

1) watermellon (pre-sliced, thanks to Anna), baby carrots, diet coke and an embarrassing amount of soon to be sun-melted chocolate

2) pool toys – which we later used as air matresses.  We like to think of ourselves as resourceful.

3) novels that we have been meaning to read for a while including The Wizard of Oz (Anna) and Vintage Affair (Yours truly)- which we quickly substituted with the latest copy of Vogue and People Magazine.

4) Spf 50 sunscreen- which later proved useless

5) Backpack deck chairs.  You heard me right.  Backpacks that transform into chairs. Incidentally, they also have built-in cooler zip pockets.  Pretty much my best purchase of the summer so far.

Here we are, acting like idiots in the little toyota:

Our preparation was not extensive enough, I suppose: as soon as we entered Sand Hollow resort, THIS happened:

Nothing that a little prayer- and approximately one hour of digging- couldn’t fix.  We felt justified in leaving the camp to find the nearest town- and thereby- nail parlor.  Then, this happened:

We set up our tent and got a fire going- and if you are disappointed in us for pausing to get manicures, let me reassure you with this little tid-bit: we started our fire SANS lighter fluid.  We’re practically Eagle Scouts.  Impressed with ourselves, we discussed (over char-grilled hot dogs): (Hollie) “When we camp, we are MEN!” (Anna) “Yeah! Look at this!” (gestures to [legit] campsite) “We built this shiz!”

The next day, we sat at the red-sand beach, occasionally taking a dip in the lake.  Look how pretty:

We didn’t take into account the severity of the sun- and consequently Anna’s porcelin self got scorched.  Even I got red.  [I deliberated posting a picture of my tan lines.  Thought instead I’d keep it classy– so here’s one in black and white]

We trudged back to our camp, a little downtrodden by the sunstroke that was beginning to feel like a mini torpedo in my brain.  Anna was walking like the Tin Man- the backs of her legs were sorely… well, sore.  We made a couple of sandwiches as we watched the sky turn a deadly grey.  Then we began to do some resoning…

1) Could that be a storm approaching?  Probably.  (we couldn’t figure out if the clouds were approaching or leaving.  We guessed, knowing our luck, approaching.)

2) Should a storm break out, we were camping on a red-sand beach.  Which mean that red sand would be EVERYWHERE.  And the car could very well sink again.

3) Should car sink again, we had just paid for very nice manicures and digging the car out would be a slap in the [sunburned] face.

4)  As comfy as our beach-toy matresses had been the night before, sun burned bodies should MEDICALLY be taken care of.  It’s just dermatological sense.

5) Sun stroke is a real thing.

6) We both had headaches.

Considering all of this, THIS happened:

Our evening included the indoor pool- medically beneficial for our sunburn- The Mummy Returns on cable, actual showers and 500 thread count sheets.  We camp in style.

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