He opted for a sunset hike (I’m adding the sunset part, but hey, it was at sundown). We trekked about the autumnal twilit hills, leaves crunching beneath our feet, birdsong mingling with cricket chirps, and the drunk guys a few campsites over really starting to get after it. (Which was totally cool there’s enough campground for all of us.) Our evening hike turned into a wood hunt, as we had already burned through most of our logs during our all-afternoon campfire. I found a few stout logs and Ben found a few fine twigs. Together, they helped us enjoy another 45 minutes or so of firelight, during which we talked about the kind of things men talk about by the fireside. Like preschool and mommy and our cats and books we like to read and such.Īs the last sunlight faded and night took hold, I let the fire die and poured on a bit of water so Ben and I could retire to the tent. It was almost 8 pm, and high time for some sleep. But first we played three rounds of Uno by the softly glowing light of our lantern and read Mercy Watson Goes for a Ride, a gripping narrative about a pig who goes for a ride in a car.
