I love not camping!

After a recent camping trip to Harrison Lake, I confirmed what I knew all along, that I am, indeed, a city girl. The trip started off nice enough, as my group arrived at a camp site right on the sparkling lake surrounded by beautiful mountains and set up our tents and chairs and cracked our beers on the lakeshore. Some campers who had set up their base nearby came to say hello, and warned that half of their group had left that morning, after they had been assaulted by mosquitoes. I laughed and thought, ‘what a bunch of wimps! I don’t see any mosquitoes around!’ Flash forward to myself crouching in my tent the next morning, bladder about to burst, after making several attempts to venture out into the outhouse-free woods to find a spot where millions of the little blood-sucking vampires were not swarming and salivating at the thought of biting my exposed behind. Fed up and about to burst into tears of frustration, I jumped in the lake as a last resort, not realizing that standing water is a favourite hang out for mosquitoes. I spent the rest of the morning sitting by the blazing hot fire in the blazing hot sun, wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt drenched in Deep Woods Off, in an effort to prevent any new additions to my hundreds of bites, and vowing that that I would never again expose my sweet, alabaster skin to such abuse. From then on it would be hotels only, or at the very least, camp sites with outhouses!