Once more unto the beach, dear friends

Rather than spending the weekend unpacking and moving into our new house, (which right now pretty much looks like the aftermath of a frat house kegger, only with more boxes) instead we decided to thumb our noses at Pi Omicron Sigma house and go camping.  So, Friday after work, we loaded up everything into the back of the truck, crammed the three boys in the back seat and headed into the woods.  Two hours later we arrived at beautiful Lake Tizgay, a secluded little place where my father-in-law owns a bunch of cabins that serve as a logging camp during the week.  Karli’s whole family came along, which meant something like 13 adults and 17 kids.  It was a bit different than the family outings I’m used to in Utah, where I only have 4 siblings, none with spouses or children.

We spent Friday night in a small cabin, just with my wife and boys.  Saturday morning dawned early (it gets light here at about 4am, so I feel like I’ve slept in forever when it’s only seven or eight) and I discovered the absolute worst way in the world to be awakened.  In our cabin, there were a bunch of mosquitos buzzing around my ears all morning, so I had finally just wrapped my head in my sleeping bag, preferring the stifling heat to the incessant buzzing.  There I was, sound asleep, when my wife decided to haul off and punch me right in the testicles.  What the hell?  is exactly what I cried as I sat bolt upright to the sickening pain.  Karli claimed there was a mosquito there, that she thought it was only my leg and that it was a very light slap, but I’m still not sure.  After that delightful experience, I knew I didn’t want to stay in bed any longer, what with my wife there waiting for me to fall asleep so she could exact her terrible vengeance again, so I got up and went for a swim in the ice cold lake.

After breakfast, we spent the morning building a new floating dock on the lake shore.  Once it was put together, we were able to unhook it from the mooring and paddle it out in the lake to dive off of.  After lunch, we spent the afternoon fishing for rainbow trout in the lake and playing Mennonite Rummy with Karli’s Dad, who loves to play cards and hates to lose (Karli and I thrashed him).

After a great dutch oven dinner, I took Walker out for a hike through the woods.  When we got back, he wanted to go for a ride in the fishing boat, so we put our lifejackets on and headed down to the dock.  I got him situated in the front of the little aluminum skiff and told him to sit still and hold on.  The little boat was fairly unstable and it was harder without another adult there to balance the weight, but I thought I could handle it.  Boy, was I wrong.

The boat motor wouldn’t start in neutral, so I had to start it in gear.  Once it finally started up, I was headed right for a gravel bar, so I turned sharply to avoid it.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t balanced properly in the back of the boat yet, and I turned so sharp that the boat started tipping over.  In hindsight, I ask myself: why didn’t I just cut the motor or jerk it back the other way?  But at the time, all I was able to manage was to pull a scuba-style backflip out the side of the boat, trying to save it from capsizing completely and drowning my 3-year-old.  I popped up quick and took a hold of the side, before it could motor out into the lake without me.  Luckily I was still in shallow water, so I was able to stand up and kill the engine.  Once the boat stopped moving and I made sure Walker was OK (amazingly he did as he had been told and sat down and held on), my immediate thought was “please let nobody in the cabin have seen what a complete retard I am.  Please!”

Alas, my prayers went unanswered as people came streaming out onto the deck to see if I was OK.  I told them I was fine and then did the only thing I could think of to salvage what little remained of my dignity: I dropped my soaking wallet and keys on the shore, got back in the boat with Walker, started it up and took him for his tour around the lake.  When we got back I changed clothes, set everything out to dry and went up to the main cabin to face my shame.  Everyone was actually quite nice to me and must have only ridiculed their newbie brother-in-law while I was out of earshot.  Thanks goodness.

When it got dark, we all gathered on the beach to watch a fantastic fireworks display, put on by one of my brothers-in-law, Russell.  Then we all went to bed.  Sunday morning we got up early, had breakfast, cleaned up the cabins and headed back to town to get ready for church.  Our house was still a royal pigsty when we got back, but at least we had made some memories.  Some of them were good, others were at least not soon to be forgotten.

5 Responses

  1. We really didn’t make fun of you too much back in the cabin… really. Kara was the only one that actually saw anything and she was more scared than anything. Oh, and I swear I did not mean to hit you in the tenders! Promise! I thought I was doing you a favor by killing the annoying thing! What I didn’t tell you though, was that I don’t think I even got the little bastard! 😉

  2. Loved the description of Karli’s cruel acts. Wish somebody had captured the boat incident on video. 🙂

  3. I’m so glad stories like these will continue whilst living in a place without a Dillard’s escalator. You’re so dad gum funny.

    Oh, GREAT title by the way.

  4. Karli,
    I’m going to believe you this time, but if that ever happens again I’m going Dick van Dyke on your a** and getting separate beds.

    I’m sure that will be featured on ‘God’s Funniest Home Videos’ someday.

    I’m glad you got the title. Mrs. Miller would be proud (assuming she got enough oxygen last night) 🙂

  5. Well crap, with the way you snore…. Let’s just say if we are ever together and you hear a mosquito buzzing about… cover the tenders Mike. Cover the tenders!

    (I love you) 😉

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