One of my co-workers made a comment the other day that the true test of a stong marriage is being able to survive a camping trip together. If that's so, we might just have the strongest marriage in the world. Ryan and I not only survived our weekend, but we had an amazing time (as we always do). It was the perfect weekend on the Current River: cool, crisp, sunny. I didn't catch a single fish and I injured myself a number of times, but it didn't stop us from having fun. We had Top Chef worthy food (including possibly the best breakfast sandwich ever made), our tent was better than some hotel rooms (very spacious and comfortable), there was hardly anyone else on the river, and Mally was almost a good dog. What more could a girl ask for?
Me and Mally, getting ready to launch off Saturday morning.
We floated a few miles and stopped to set up our campsite along the sandy shore.
Ryan set up our tent.
I prepared the sleeping quarters (along with our queen size air matress).
Mally went into country-dog chill mode.
I found kindling and prepared the fire.
Ryan prepared for fishing -- (does he look happy or what?).
Boots and waders and flies, oh my.
Ryan said this fly was called Sex Dungeon.
I insisted that he use it immediately. It caught nothing.
Mally played in the grass and almost got in the water.
And we're ready to fish!
Isn't my husband a bad-ass fisherman?
A few hours later, our lazy (i.e. spoiled and worthless) dog wouldn't cross the river.
I think Ryan had a good day. (And Mally's already asleep.)
Later that night, dinner of spinach and feta salmon burgers and pasta.
It got a little chilly that night, but Mally and I kept warm by snuggling.
Sausage, egg and cheese croissants for breakfast. Mmmmm.
Mally was hiding, she didn't want to go home.
Unfortunately Sunday came too soon. We floated down the river to the truck, unloaded the canoe, packed up the truck and headed home. We're already talking about when we're going again.