Last of the walk-ins?

This past week, I went camping in San Rafael at China Camp, our favorite tenting location. The vistas are amazing, it is largely peaceful and our fellow campers and accompanying kids were good to be with.

It was perhaps my final walk-in camping trip. We’ve done a few drive-in jaunts, mostly not our druthers, but I am the chief valet, so drive-in can be nice. I am getting close to the big six-oh, and need to guard my health.

The decision came after hauling in our stuff this week, when I realized our new cooler, this one with two wheels, was very hard to walk with. I got it out of the car okay when it was full, and set it down on the blacktop of the parking lot without incident.

Full, with ice, food and drink for three days, it was (thankfully) the first item I dragged the quarter-mile to our site. My wife came through like a champ, because some of their sites are up a steep hill with a heavily rutted track, and some others are also tricky to access.

When I picked up the longer handle (it as two handles for management and one big one for dragging), I started across the parking lot and realized it weighed about two-hundred and fifty pounds full.

I took several breaks on the stony path to our campsite, and my elbow literally felt like it might snap in two. As a twenty or thirty year-old, I probably wouldn’t have felt that way, but at fifty-seven, it might not have been completely out of the realm of possibility.

A big dude walked up quickly, easily pulling a large four-wheeled basket, and kindly and sincerely offered to swap loads for a bit. It was very gracious of him, but I figured I’d have to take it back, and wanted to know I could get it done; but it still might have been a good idea, male ego aside.

I switched hauling arms several times, and told my wife about my valid fears. She is not one to worry about things, but after she saw how taxed I was she immediately said there might be something to be said for drive-up camping after all, while normally she dislikes it.

Thank the Lord, I got a second wind after the second or third load I carted in, and by the end I felt a sense of accomplishment, and was able to go the distance.

That night we feasted on Angus burgers with steak seasoning and packaged kale and cabbage salads with seeds, cranberries and a delicious creamy dressing. She also put out scooped tortilla chips with salsa. She normally makes chili with hot dogs on the first night, but my CKD wouldn’t take all the potassium and sodium.

I was able to set up my cot successfully, and slept fairly well. I didn’t worry too much that a mountain lion might attack me on the way to the bathroom after dark, my legs and feet didn’t cramp up too badly, and I didn’t have to pee too many times in the night.

Wednesday dawned, and I got our dog out for a pee and a poop, got her breakfast and treat, and we sat in my camp chair with her on my lap, both of us glad of our jackets and me reading my recent mystery and one of Michael Connelly’s. I’m happy to say I enjoyed reading both; it isn’t always easy to read one’s own writing, and my books aren’t usually as well written as someone like Connelly’s.

My wife came out of the tent and fired up the camp stove, her domain, not mine. When the kettle boiled, she had her coffee and I had my tea, black, decaf, as I was pretty much born caffeinated.

After a while, the wife cooked up our typical first-day morning meal: breakfast sausages and fried eggs. With my CKD, I don’t normally eat egg yolks, but I made an exception for the trip. She also got me mango-pineapple juice as I can’t drink a lot of OJ with CKD either. She asked me about this specifically, and I really appreciate her for that.

CKD is chronic kidney disease. Not to plug another book, but I wrote about that subject in my book, Timestamp, if you are curious or concerned that you or a loved one might contract this dread condition. My health is fairly stable at this point, and I thank my Christ, who sustains me until it is time to go home for good.

While washing up the breakfast dishes, a fellow camper walked by me, and she asked how my meal was, and I said it was good. She replied, “Camping breakfast is always good.”, which I readily agreed with.

Back at our campsite, we were relieved by the burning off of the clouds and the rise of the sun, warming us up from the seemingly freezing morning. Later, I’d seek shade, but for the moment, the golden orb was welcome and wonderful.

As it neared lunchtime, we packed our small cooler and our camp chairs with umbrellas, and with backpacks on, we trudged back to the parking lot. We drove to the China Camp beach, which is mostly quiet, with tiny pebbles and some sand, and enjoyed a noisy morning with our lunchables and chips.

It was noisy because there is a kids camp that meets there during the summer, and this year was no different. They screamed gleefully, threw rocks proudly and plunged into the water, armed with life vests, boogie boards, paddle boards and inflatable kayak-type boats.

As I sat reading my other book, by Robert Dugoni, called The Jury Master, a wonderful suspense read (not a legal thriller), I kept one eye on the kids, as the ratio of counselors to kids did not seem favorable. Now I realize they probably didn’t need me to do that, but I felt if something went wrong I’d have been negligent.

Version 1.0.0

One kid threw rocks that almost hit others, and I asked him to not do that. I said I wasn’t his dad, but that I’d appreciate it. Later, his friend pegged one of the counselors, who was supervising from a boat, and the offender wrung his hands against his neck repeatedly, while being scolded. I felt God was convicting him, and hoped he’d learn a lesson. He was probably back throwing pebbles later, but maybe with a bit of caution.

I took some photos of the pier, former fishing village’s current museum, and beach. My phone was getting low on power, so I put it on power saver mode every time I finished taking any pics. Later, at the campsite, my wife paired my phone with a portable battery the size of my phone, and charged up my battery, which I really appreciated.

The rest of our time at the beach that day and the next was pretty quiet, as the children went home.

Here is a photo of the bathroom and showers at the beach. I note it as they were rebuilt and are much nicer than in years past:

In closing, here are some photos of the camping area and surrounds: