How a Day at the Springs Can Be Ruined

Yesterday, some of my buds and I decided a camping trip to the springs was an appropriate thing to do on a sleepy, Sunday afternoon. Of course it was. We happen to be three strapping young lads, who are all more than capable of huffing it for a day and a night amongst nature's creatures and elements.

However, things got off to a precariously rough start.

One of our travelling partners happened to be in a sour, little mood from the get go. His pessimism would have been completely unbearable if we didn't find his mouth's constant flow of expletives, and hate-spew, charming on some twisted level. Despite this guy's most earnest attempts to get our trip of course, we loaded the ol' car to the gills with beer, camping equipment and all kinds of man-snacks, and made our way to Ginnie Springs. We thought we were going to swill our ale and tell graphic stories around the camp fire that night, and follow that up with a relaxing float down the river the next day. We were clearly not in Mother Nature's favor.

I awoke, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, around 6:30 in the a.m., with visions of cold beers and rafts floating through my consciousness. My mates remained asleep as I investigated the surrounding area for adventure and simple treasures -- there were none to be had.

As the sun broke above the tree line I marvelled at the day's promise. It was the last marvelling I'll care to do for awhile. The clouds rolled in slowly at first -- I thought they might have even been a figment of my imagination. They were not, and neither was the thunder, lightning and unrelenting rain that followed.

We decided the most responsible thing to do would be to flee the scene as soon as possible. It was a good idea. What wasn't responsible was deciding it would be smart to lazily leave all of our camping equipment there at the springs, to remain forever. We were clearly far too despondent, and rejected by our environment, to properly clean our camp site.

Our shitty tent, tarp and trash will remain there, at our site, as a testament to the futility of man's struggle against nature. It will remain there because we didn't even break the tent down, and there really is no telling how long it will stay untouched before someone finally realizes a bunch of assholes just left all their camping equipment because they were to lazy, and acutely distraught, to pick it up.