I am a wood slut

Ok…so if you haven’t guessed yet…I have a slight problem. You see, we are a family that loves the outdoors and we tend to camp a lot and we also take advantage of the great weather here in Southern California and sit out by our fire pit several nights a week.

The problem is that I have gotten to that place where I refuse to buy that stupid freakin ‘balsa’ fire wood that the local grocery stores sell for $6.00 per bundle of 5 logs. I am also unwilling to spend $50 per load of wood from the local firewood yard.

My thing is that I drive around town and stop at lumber yards and construction sites, ask them for any of their scrap wood. It works perfectly for camping and our fire pit…and it is free. I can load up the back of the car and have a week’s worth of wood with only a little bit of cutting with my saw.

I’m sure that this does not sound so bad right now, but it has gotten bad…I could be compared to a drug addict, on a quest for my next fix. I have been known to slam on the breaks, with a car full of people, throw the car in reverse…just to check out a new construction site. Driving down the street, I crane my neck as I pass by lucrative site, to see if there is any junk wood. When I start getting low on wood, I make a point of dedicating a 2 hour window of my day to troll the streets for my pot of gold.

Given the above…Mariah and the kids have all begun calling me; “Wood Slut”, “Wood Whore”, “Scrap Addict”, “Scrap Junkie” and other derogatory names. At first I did not mind, but ….an I sick? Do I need help? Is there a 12-step support group for this?

Well…I gotta run. It is Friday and I need wood for the weekend!

Tinkle on a Tourist

As someone who is pretty straight forward and an avid People Watcher, I don’t think that I’ve mentioned to you all – until now – that “tourists” really get under my skin. Now, I know that pretty much everyone, including me, has been a tourist at one point or another, but…come on…if you are going to be a tourist, don’t act or dress like one. The strength that it is taking me now to hold back the burst of laughter (accompanied by indiscrete finger pointing) or the barely controllable urges to vomit is getting out of control.

I guess that it is the combination of many “tourist attributes” that get to me:
What they wear – black socks with sandals, fanny packs, camera around shoulder, clothing that is obviously NOT appropriate for where they are, etc.
How they talk – usually VERY loud, not in English, etc.
How they act – 9 times out of ten not polite, as if they are more important than any of us, disrespectful to people and the local environment

I don’t know…I mean I know that if I were visiting China, I would not be speaking Chinese or wearing a big sun hat or a Bruce Lee outfit, but I would try to fit in. I would show respect and do what I could to blend in. That being said, I have a hard time justifying my irritation towards tourists, but it still thrives. Maybe I am just a bad person…maybe I need to relax and just accept them as who they are. Fuck that! They annoy the shit out of me.

On our recent trip to the Sequoia National Forest, Insane Mama and I found ourselves utterly in awe of the immense number of tourists visiting form countries all over the world. It kind of makes me think of how lucky we are to live somewhere that everyone wants to visit, but at the same time….DO NOT come to my country and into MY FOREST and push me or walk in front of me while I am taking a picture. DO NOT show up with your family of 7 for a .5 mile FLAT hike with EVERYONE carrying brand new, telescoping walking sticks!(….even the freaking children). DO NOT Pass me on a hike without saying hello. DO NOT wear high heels and a dress for a hike through the woods. DO NOT skip looking in the mirror, at your outfit, if you are going somewhere. DO NOT allow your 4 children to run down to jump, scream and splash around in a river – right where 2 adults are trying to enjoy a quiet moment together. IT IS A BIG FUCKING RIVER!

NO…It was not just this trip. My last trips to water parks, amusement parks, beaches…..even the freaking GAP…all the same. Can we post some rules, basic ethics, manners, code of conduct….or whatever AT EVERY international airport so that sensitive (that is what I will call it) people, like me, can enjoy our nation’s visitors? Maybe we could start a Tourist Patrol...like he borde patrol...to monitor and correct improper behaviors.

PLEASE know that I am in NO WAY racist or have anything against foreigners….it IS the TOURIST mentality that I pee upon.

Ansel TentCamper

I know that you all think that I am some kind of rambling, psychotic, uncaring, maniac, sexaholic who just walks around and pees all over the place…but I am not...not all of the time.

I can honestly say that while camping in the Sequoia’s…I found …the softer side of TentCamper.

I also found …….. MY NEW BLOGGER ICON (PICTURE) !!!!!!!!!!!

Well...........WAHT DO YOU THINK?

Tent Camping With Black Bears

First off, I’d like to say that this trip to the Sequoia National Forest was to be my first encounter with Black Bears. Before leaving, as most of you know, Insane Mama (and many other people) told me all of their stories about bear encounters up there and I have to admit that as excited as I was, I was a bit nervous.

After our first night camping, I woke to no signs (or stories from other campers) about bears having been in the campground that night. Believe me…I asked just about everyone. I was a bit disappointed and quite honestly…a bit scared to come back to you all with no bear stories. On our second night there, after sitting by the fire and carving a large stick that I’d found into the ‘world’s best bear spear’…to protect us from our impending encounter, we actually opened a big can of baked bean and left them on the table at the site next to ours (nobody was there…we are not that cruel) to see if we could attract a nice big bear that would enjoy this friendly offering. Again with NOTHING! Anyway, we spent two nights at that campground (full post to come) and then decided that maybe we should head deeper into the forest…”where the bears live” for a few nights.

At our second campground, which was DEEP into the National Forest, the campground was a bit on the empty side and we ended up with a pretty cool site, in the woods right on the edge of the Kings River. We drove around the campground until we had found the site that bears would like the most. Again…NOTHING! I got a bit pissed and started “accidentally” dropping food around our site…and even calling into the woods, “bears….oh bears….come out and play”…Along with other ridiculous absurdities. At the site right next to us, there were 2 guys and a woman who were from another country and obviously did not know that being nice…and social with the campers around you was the proper thing to do. We did not like them…for that reason…UNTIL…on the second night, I heard one of the guys from that site yell, “BEAR!” and then start banging on a pan with a rock that he’d picked up. My eyes widened (out of excitement, not fear) and I jumped out of my chair. I turned and called for Insane Mama, who was in the tent …putzing around, to get her ass out of the tent. I grabbed my bear spear and basically threw it at Mariah while I snatched up our camera and ran to catch up with our neighbor, who was trailing the bear, warning the campers ahead of him.

When I reached him (in like 2 seconds), I asked him where the bear was and he pointed ….I saw it! In the dark I saw the outline of a fairly big bear. I had to get closer. I was going to get a picture of this beast. Armed only with my little digital camera, I darted toward the big black outline as he (or she) made it onto a campsite across the way. The bear stopped at the picnic table (where some idiots had left out trail mix and dried dates…I will thank them later.) The bear stood up and cleared things from the table and grabbed what it wanted. Meanwhile, people were yelling, throwing rocks and sticks at the ground near it, banging pans and blowing whistles…all of this while crept forward until I was about 15 feet from it. I started snapping pictures. They were coming out all black…not enough light. I fidgeted with all of the settings, snapping as I went…not really paying any attention to the 500 pound bear who could have reached my position in about 3 seconds if it wanted to. Seeing the bear only through the camera’s viewfinder, I took about 15 pictures before the bear started to move on towards the next loop of campsites. I did not care what the others were doing…I HAD to get a good shot. I trailed the bear into the woods. Once I came to the next campsite, where a large Chinese family was camping, I warned them and asked the dad if he’d seen the bear. I then heard an young voice from inside the tent a young boy’s voice frantically say, “Is it going to eat us? Are we going to DIE?” I, noticing that the bear was gone…and I was the only one who had followed it into the woods, decided to tell the family that they’d be fine and then I turned back through the woods.

As I got back to the site where thee bear took the food, I heard the woman yelling at her ??? husband that he had better get them packed and the hell out of there within the next few minutes. This lady really meant what she was saying. I did not stop, and when I got back to our site, Mariah was sitting by the fire awaiting my triumphant bear story and pictures (although her face said something like this, “ok…what happened? Oooohh….you saw a bear?...wow…want a medal? You really are my hero….NOT!”

Anyway I told her about the “chase” after she informed me that as soon as I tossed my “Bear Spear” to her…she just returned to our site for a glass of wine. I guess seeing a bear was not such a big deal for her. She swiped the camera from my hands and started going through the last bunch of images taken and then looked up at me, shaking her head and said, “there is nothing here…it’s all black.” I told her that with the magic of Photoshop…I could get them to come out.

Here is what I have to show for all of my efforts.

OH....and by the way...bear are NOT attracted to the sweet smell of sex!

In tent, at the river on the rocks, on hiing trails, etc. No problems there!

I Peed In The Sequoias !!!!

Ok Folks….No need to worry…Insane Mama and I are back from Sequoia and King’s Canyon.

I have to say that it was one of the most incredible camping trips that I have ever been on. We stayed at 3 different campgrounds, saw some HUGE-ASS trees, frolicked in streams and rivers, hiked to waterfalls and famous meadows, made friends with forest creatures (mostly Insane Mama), tracked rampaging bears at night ….and lastly, saved the Sequoias from burning down today.

Posts on all of the above will be forthcoming and I hope that the post I had up whilst away did not turn any of you into ‘haters.’

I have to run and help IM unpack the car….damn!

I’ll be catching up with you all this evening.

Tinkle In My Tent

I don’t have much time to write this morning as I have to get 4 kids off to the airport and then get on the road to go camping with Insane Mama.

We will be camping in the Sequoia National Forest for the nest 5 or 6 days and I, being a kind of spur of the moment kind of guy, do not have anything written to schedule for while I am away. That being said…you will not see any new posts from me…other than the one that I will put up shortly.

Please keep your eye on the news for anything on bear attacks, gunmen on the loose, forest fires or any other random violent happenings in the Sequoia National Forest.

We will return (I hope) with lots of pictures and material to post for your enjoyment, next week.

Bears, Balls & Sex

Last night I had a horrendous nightmare…well, I guess it was kind of funny too.

So, Insane Mama and I are going camping up in the Sequoias next week. We are going for 5 nights and it will just be the two of us. Now I have never been there and Insane Mama has been telling me about the bears and that EVERYTHING needs to go into the bear boxes. That the bears will go after pretty much anything; sun block, lotion, food…and the list goes on.

Anyway, my dream last night was one that had me waking up in a cold sweat and clutching my …privates.

So since we are going alone on this little getaway, I know that there will be a bit of beer, a glass or two of wine and...I imagine…a whole lot of sex. We have planned it out where we will be bringing our BIG tent and a queen sized air mattress (we usually camp without the Aero bed, but we plan on doing some bouncing!) We have also decided to bring along our “travel bag”…you know….the one that holds our “adult” gear.

Oh yeah…back to my dream. So, without getting into too much detail. I was wondering if bears would be attracted to “SEX.” The juices, the odor, the taste… (I know for a fact that dogs are…is there a big difference?)

My dream brought me to a horrific place...I woke up in the morning, after a long night of counting money, to find a huge black bear gnawing on my penis and with his claws holding me down by my balls. From deep within my mind I heard this big black monstrosity lean towards me and say, “Just lay there bitch…I’m not done.” Like something out of a bad prison movie.

Then after Butch, the Black Bear was done violating me, I crawled, clutching my genitals (or what was left of them) out of the huge hole in the tent to see a little baby bear cub prancing out of the campground with Insane Mama’s favorite vibrator dangling from its mouth.

PLEASE…IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BEARS BEING ATTRACTED TO THE SCENT OF SEX…PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

Camping Gone Bad

This post is going to relate to one of my main passions, camping and the outdoors.
I absolutely love the outdoors and have been tent camping since I was a child.



Now, over the years, I’ve been seeing more and more of those 20, 30, 40 even 60 foot RVs motoring through our campgrounds and forests. Now I get it a bit, if you are touring the country or something like that, but its when I sit at my campsite, beer in hand, and see this monstrosity pull in (blocking my view) and proceed to unload for about 2 hours…until they have their complete set up configured. Oh…this set up includes;

offloading the golf cart (exercise should be saved for the gym), and the configuration and placement of;

24-hour a day generator (which makes normal communication with your fellow campers impossible),

a 75 square foot roll of fake grass laid out in front of the mobile “waste of money” (so that no dirt gets tracked in onto the carpet),

a set of plastic pink flamingos strategically positioned around the site (“to ward of the annoying birds”),

the completely enclosed screen porch (incase there are bugs or squirrels around),

the propane gas fire pit (“cuz the smoke of a campfire gets into the fabric in the RV – and stinks”),

the side-mounted, pull-out TV with satellite dish (incase Jerry Springer or People’s Court are on),

several pole-mounted bug zappers and motion sensor outside flood lights (to scare intruders),

strings of neon and twinkle lights outlining the RV and entire site ( incase it gets dark),

the 20 x 20 foot dog pen (for that little annoying beast that yapps its ass off all night and every time ANYTHING goes by – people, birds, squirrels, …anything), the two EZ Ups (just in case the sun comes out),

the misc. games and the radio with speakers mounted outside – continuously playing (…. Something that 95% of us hate), ….and then there is the nasty old woman that you never see…she sits inside the whole time barking commands and yelling at hubby and the kids to do this or that (she hates camping but they are not allowed to leave her home.)

Most times, after watching a “full set up”, I can bank on looking over the left side of my chair to see a pile of vomit. We do take pictures when we are not laughing too hard or while on breaks from completely dissing every item that they roll out. I guess I just don’t understand why they don’t go to a hotel or theme park or something.

I guess I was curious to see if I were alone on these feelings and am just insanely irritated by things other people like that I don’t, or if some of you shared my thoughts.

Any other tent campers out there? And if you are one of those people with a big RV and the above mentioned “camping gear” PLEASE HELP ME UNDERSTAND.

Modern Day Nature

I thought that you all might get as much a kick out of these as I did. Now I know that some may be jokes but…If you are going to go visit a campground or hiking trail…what the “F” do you expect?

These are actual comments left on U. S. Forest Service registration sheets and comment cards by campers:

"A small deer came into my camp and stole my bag of pickles. Is there a way I can get reimbursed? Please call."
"Trails need to be wider so people can walk while holding hands."
"Ban walking sticks in wilderness. Hikers that use walking sticks are more likely to chase animals."
"Trails need to be reconstructed. Please avoid building trails that go uphill."
"Too many bugs and leeches and spiders and spider webs. Please spray the wilderness to rid the area of these pests."
"Chair lifts need to be in some places so that we can get to wonderful views without having to hike to them."
"The coyotes made too much noise last night and kept me awake.
"Reflectors need to be placed on trees every 50 feet so people can hike at night with flashlights."
"Need more signs to keep area pristine."
"The places where trails do not exist are not well marked."
"Too many rocks in the mountains."

I say to all of these people, ….. I don’t even know what to say. Are people idiots?
PATHETIC!!!!!
Oh…and speaking of pathetic…I will get to my homicidal thoughts about RVs.

And the pee continues

OK. I thought that the excitement for the night was over, I settled back into my trusty chair by the fire and ... low and behold... little miss 9-year-old "I have to do everything that you do" decided that she needed to go pee in the bush too. I had had quite enough pee for the evening and felt that she would be just fine peeing behind a bush. About a minute later...walking like a bow-legged cowgirl, I see my little 9 year old approaching me with a sad, disgusted face on. I knew exactly what happened as I saw the flickering of the campfire dancing on her dripping legs. I asked her what happened and she told me that she didn't think that if she peed ON the bush that her pee wold run down the leaves and branches right back onto her legs. I burst into laughter, instantly making her cry, then gave her a big hug stating that we were now the PEE King and Queen of the campsite.

Enough was enough...we all used the "real" bathrooms for the rest of our trip.

My Lesson On Pee

So, I just got back from a weekend camping trip and it was one of those trips that will stick in my head for quite a while. It’s funny how things just happen.

Anyway, we were all sitting by the fire on Saturday night and my son kept looking at me…you know, with a weird look in his eyes. I finally asked him if something was wrong and he leaned over and said that he had to pee. I instantly burst out a little chuckle and said …well the bathroom is right over there. He looked at me with “big boy” eyes and said, “I want to pee in the bushes.” I smiled at him and gave him that look like (my little boy is growing up.) I said, “Cool! Go right over there” (I pointed). He shook his head and demanded that I go with him.

We got up and headed over to what I guess was the perfect bush. I got in position a few feet from him and told him, “the most important rule of peeing outside is …NEVER PEE INTO THE WIND.” He seemed to ponder that for a moment and then nodded that it made sense. I was about to start going myself and he, after pulling his pants down a bit, told me to face the other way. I turned away from him and let loose. Now I don’t know who up above was playing a joke on me, but the wind picked up and I’ll be damned if I didn’t pee all over my leg. Cussing under my breath, I zipped up and turned to go back to the campfire to dry off, I saw my son cracking up and pointing at my leg.

Last time I pee with that little guy!!!!