The First Camping Trip and Endless Worry

I was a total wreck.

Being a wreck isn’t helping you prepare, he said.

But I was a wreck anyway. I couldn’t sleep, worrying about all the things I was responsible for that weren’t done and all of the Dreadful Things That Could Happen.

But eventually Friday came and I went to Carson and realized I didn’t have weed-free food, and we were headed into California into a National Forest. So Mom took me to a couple of different feed stores until we found some and then I bought too much because I was all worried about it, and then I loaded up the goats in the new California DMV-Approved horse trailer with all the gear and all the saddles and drove all the way home with my heart in my throat. Certain of impending doom. Certain we would all die in a Fiery Wreck along the way. Except everything was totally fine and Bosco peeked his head out of the slit toward the top of the trailer and said hello like nothing ever even happened.

Melissa, her son Elvis, and Renee were there about two minutes after me, and it was raining and snowing and chilly-willy but Aidan presented me with a hot pizza and I was grateful and in love with him. He was cheery and offered to drive and then we were all off in a caravan together. We made a quick pit stop to buy some straw for the goats to sleep in and then I was a nervous wreck because we had to go through the agricultural checkpoint. Certain They Were Going To Be Like The Nevada DMV Vin Inspection Lady and Turn Me Away.

But they weren’t, and after all my preparation they didn’t even check the health certificates, so we were through the checkpoint and on the road again in 4.5 seconds. The drive to the trailhead was beautiful and it snowed a lot and I thought, Oh Bloody Hell, the goats are going to Freeze To Death. And We are going to Freeze to Death. And So Will Everyone Else. But by the time we got there it was cold and just snowed a little on and off throughout the evening. The goats were fine even though they wanted to fight for a while. Bosco stood on top of the bale of straw and peed on it before I could even open it up, and I had to leave Bosco and Oatcake tied up in there most of the evening because they were being so rambunctious. Jon Snow and Sharkey, my Little Butterflies, flitted around camp and were as sweet as ever, only causing minor trouble. I put coats on everyone and they settled inside the horse trailer for the night. Melissa and Renee and Aidan and Elvis chatted amiably and I was mostly quiet. Even though I knew these women growing up, I felt nervous and shy. They were friendly and happy and outgoing and I kind of sat there beating myself up.

And then, sure enough, we Froze. For a few hours anyway. I was even wearing my complete down outfit with my down pants (don’t google that at work), two down jackets, down booties, and a down hat. And a sleeping bag underneath me, and two sleeping bags on top of me, and a husband next to me. So it was a cold night.

I woke up a million times because every time the goats moved in the trailer, I was certain a bear got in there and was killing them all. I finally got up at 5:19 am because I was so worried that I wasn’t going to be ready for the hike by the time my mother-in-law and Cheryl got there to join us. I puttered about and made some coffee and worried about Everything. I let the goats out and fed them and they wandered around camp. They followed me into one side of the kitchen area, and when turned around to shoo two of them out, the other two filled the space behind me. Repeat 20 times. I set up barriers with chairs, but Sharkey just found that to be a fun challenge and jumped between them and over the arms and into the kitchen once again. My coffee got cold but they entertained me and kept me warm, dancing around trying to corral them here and push them there. They looked at me with their twinkling, mischievous, adoring eyes, and I knew everything was going to be okay.

The gang showed up at 9 or something and I still wasn’t ready to go. But no one seemed to care by then. Everyone was laughing and hanging out and drinking coffee and I was still quiet and saddling goats and puttering about.

And then we were on trail and everyone was happy and chatting and we climbed up the steep grade and through the trees and zig zig zaggity zag way up to the top of the ridge where we could see all the spots where it was raining in valley after valley on one side. A quiet and serene lake on the other. Satisfied, Aidan and my mother-in-law headed down to the lake to hang out and we moved on into the wilderness and down a crazy steep path. The boys were all noticeably fatter, except Bosco, and it was nice to see their fat tummies waddling around. They looked so healthy and pleased and chubby-cheeked. No one complained or threw themselves on the ground or pouted or anything. We wanted to make it to another little lake, but the trailhead sign said it was too far so we hung out in a meadow until it started to rain and snow. I put everyone’s goat coats on over their gear, which was a complete disaster. The coats kept slipping off and the goats would trip on them and get their legs caught and then they would run from me when I tried to fix it, red or blue fabric flapping at their bellies.

On the way back, Andy met us on trail with Cheryl’s dog Jasmine. The goats weren’t too fond of the idea of hiking with sweet Jasmine even though she didn’t care a whim about them.

Back at camp, all triumphant, with bellies full and hair brushed, the goats were settling in once again when Jasmine walked past Bosco all innocent and sweet-like, and got butted and moved three feet sideways. She’s fourteen years old but was miraculously unhurt. I felt terrible. Poor little sweetie. She kept her distance after that.

Renee and Cheryl and Andy and my Mother-in-law went home and Aidan went to bed and Melissa and I talked far too late into the evening. Me, nodding mostly and trying to be open and sharing but probably sounding a little socially awkward. I don’t know why.

The night was cold but tolerable and the rain woke me up a hundred times, but it made me smile. The First Camping Trip with the goats was a success.

My Endless Worrying may not have helped me prepare.

But maybe it did.

I don’t know these things.