Camp Out Time - Bet

Howdy Ho everybodies, it's your Roving Border Collie Reporter Bet here!

Does anybodies know what time of year it is?

No... although the stores are playing Christmasy tunes, it's not Santy Claws time.

No.... Thanksgiving is a bit away and besides, we already had that here in Canada in October.

No... it's not my birthday... yet... but if you want to send me gifts, and cake, and waffles, and cupcakes, and shrimp pasta... I'm fine with that. (my real birthday is January 3rd... in case you need to order anything).

It's CAMP OUT TIME!!!!

eesh.

Yes, camp out time, it's the time where the Musher takes the Pretty Curly Tails on a nice long run, then stops at the campsite and lets them get use to stopping and hanging out for a while, just like they would do on the Iditarod trail.  Then after a nice lunch and a nap, they all go out for more running, just like they would do on the Iditarod trail.

The purpose of this exercise is to cause me frostbite... I mean, to help the Pretty Curly Tails learn how to relax and rest when there's time to relax and rest.

So, while the Musher runs the Pretty Curly Tails we all get busy and pack the truck up and meet the team at the usual spot.

I ran out on the trail to meet the team as they were coming in.  As their coach, I had to make sure they were running correctly.

Here they come!!!!  Warm up the hotdogs!!!!

As she would do at any Iditarod checkpoint, the Musher made sure the Pretty Curly Tails were checked over for any injury or lameness, then fed, and provided a spot to nap.

Um... hey, you two... REST!  You're suppose to be RESTING! 

As you can see in the picture above, we were out in the middle of nowhere... not a soul in sight... just like the Iditarod (pay no attention to that house).

This was Freya's first camping trip, so I felt compelled to comfort her.  I didn't want her to be scared out here in the middle of nowhere or anything.

Yes, yes, I'll protect you as long as you put my cold feet in your pocket

Once the Pretty Curly Tails were all settled in, like a checkpoint stop, we started the traditional hotdog in the fire ritual.

Three?  There's only three... AGAIN, just like last year.  Seriously?

I was told that they "saved the best for last", but I didn't fall for it last year, nor will I fall for it this year.

You're using me as a plate, aren't you?  I can feel the warmth of the hot dog!

Then we all settled in to warm ourselves by the glow of the fire and enjoy a nice, snowy day out in the middle of practically nowhere.

Ok, seriously?  There's a perfectly good heater in the truck... someone carry me there!

Then for some reason, the Musher was like all "hey Bet, go pose over by the lake at sunset", and I was like all... "can we do that in about 6 months?", but I can't refuse the Musher when she cuddles me.

FINE!  I'll go pose at the lake.

How's this?  What?  You can't see my face... sigh

How's this?  What?  FINE....

There... is that better?  OHFORTHELOVEOF... what sunset?  You can't even see the sun!

Um, hello?  My butt is frozen to the concrete, can someone bring the windshield scraper?

Thankfully Freya unstuck me and got my circulation going again... and gave me a hotdog.

Then it was time for the Musher to take the Pretty Curly Tails out for their after break run.

Just throw everything in the back and get in, I'm leaving in 10 minutes with or without you both!

I just love camping.

- Bet

Cramping - Bet

Just in case you were wondering, I spelled the blog title correctly.

The Musher had been talking all week about going camping, and how wonderful it was, and all of the tasty things they cook out at the camp, and how peaceful and serene it was, and how it was essential to teach the Pretty Curly Tails how to camp and relax on the trail for the big Iditarod race, and blah blah, blah wonderful, you'll really like it Bet its soooooo much fun.

PFFT!

Ok, I was initially intrigued by the part where I got to assist in packing the tasty treat stuff, but was alarmed when no peanut butter was packed.  How can one survive in the wilds without peanut butter?  I was nearly frantic when we left without the waffle iron.  How can you survive without waffles?

Since we were dining al fresco, I wanted to wear my blue coat (it brings out  my furs) and matching blue booties, but we were suppose to be "roughing" it (without peanut butter and waffles) and Brittany said we would have a roaring camp fire and would be fine... its the LAST time I'm ever listening to Brittany.

The ride out to the camp was fine, nice warm heater in the truck and all.  Of course we were late because Mark just had to hit three stars on level 2-14 of Angry Birds Rio Smuggler's Den (whatever that is), and the Pretty Curly Tails beat us there.

They weren't happy about that because we had their food, so there was that whole tude from them about doing all the work and the LEAST you could do was get here on time, blah blah... prima donnas.

I don't know what they're complaining about, because before we even got the fire going we fed them, and at least they're covered in all that fluff when here I am, without my coat and booties running around in the snow making sure they got their stuff.

Hey!  Who has the truck keys?  I can't feel my toes!

Musher Mark started getting out campsite set up, which was a huge relief because that meant there would be warmth and a fire and tasty foods and stuff.

Then he yelled at me to get the firewood.  Um... excuse me?

I don't see the firewood truck coming down the road.

Apparently whoever arranged this whole camping thing didn't get the firewood order in on time because the truck never showed up.  This meant harvesting wood from fallen trees with an ax... I mean its like we were in the medieval days or something... like nobody could have pre-ordered wood on Amazon.com???

Musher Mark chopped the wood, which is why I'm not writing about Brittany's visit to the hospital to reattach a leg, although we would have been back at civilization and warm buildings...

Pretty soon we had a roaring fire, and not a minute too soon because I'm pretty sure one of my toes fell off.

I fled to the safety of my blue chair (which would have perfectly matched my outfit if I hadn't been told we were "roughing" it), while everyone began to prepare our feast.

Can someone push my chair closer to the fire please?

Hot dogs were impaled on stick things and cooked over the fire.  It took forever... how did you people live before microwaves?  I mean seriously!

Hey, why are there only three hot dogs?

While I waited for dinner to be served, I figured I'd warm up my paws by sucking the body heat out of Musher Mark.

FINALLY the food was ready to eat.

Yes, I would like a bun, and some of the red stuff... not the yellow stuff, the red stuff

The red stuff... Brittany, the RED STUFF

Brittany, how many hot dogs are going to drop on the bench seat, those are yours, I'm not eating them.

 Finally she managed to get a dog in a bun, put the red stuff on, and ... hey.

Um, hello?  Did you forget something?

Yeah, that's better, although I would have preferred a plate, but I guess since we're "roughing" it.

As you probably guessed, by the time I got my food... it was cold.  Why bother burning it on the fire in the first place, I could have eaten hours ago!

After dinner I curled up with the Musher, who was sufficiently padded for the trail and a lot warmer than Musher Mark.

Thankfully the Pretty Curly Tails were restless and wanted to get moving again.  It helps that I bribed them with all of the hot dogs that Brittany dropped on the ground so they pretended to want to get home sooner than normal.

There was a problem with the ATV, but luckily I got to stay in the warm truck while they fixed it, and before too long I was back home and bundled in my blankets to try to raise my core temperature back to normal.

I hear there's plans for another "camping" trip soon... um, yeah, I think I'll pass on the next one, unless we can rent a camper with a microwave.

- Bet