They are still the most loved and cherished members of our family. In the past, they have always moved with us to various cities around the globe. Even now, one of them always accompanies us on our camping trips as well as to other outings where we stay in log cabins or family suites. We can not imagine our life without them.

But a recent incident—none of their fault in the least—have given them a bad rap. Now we can not even speak aloud our beloveds’ names at public places, nor can we Google them. I was even a bit apprehensive to mention them here, but then decided not to be a chicken any more. It hurts to know that they are treated like pariahs. These handsome dudes have fed me dal-chawal all my life, and I can not ditch them when the going has got tough for them. I would be the last person on this earth to be accused of being a fair-weather friend.

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Lower Falls Creek Lake at Callaway Gardens

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(From the previous post: Finally, we came on the main road. Here at least we could see some passerby and ask for help. A vehicle came along. We flagged it down by frantically moving our arms. X proceeded to talk to the driver. To me he looked like the Misfit, a serial killer from Flannery O’Connor’s story, "A Good Man Is Hard to Find." )

The Misfit

The Misfit explained that we had strayed too far, and offered to drive us back in his clunker. I suspected that he was laying a trap for us, so hesitated a bit, but before I could think of any strategy to escape, all three of my friends occupied the back seat, leaving only the front seat for me.

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Camping: Hiking Trail

After suffering the grumbling crowd over lunch and tidying up the place, a few hiking enthusiasts among us expressed a strong desire to go test-drive their legs on the walking trail. Although, I am against all sorts of walking, jogging, running, or any other exercise fad that puts unnatural strain on one’s body, I went along because the best of the gossipmongers—X, Y, and Z—had decided to go, and I was afraid in my absence they would invent some juicy stories maligning me and reinforce their pre-conceived prejudicial notions about me.

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Camping: The Cooking Adventure

Yes, I missed the cyberspace to some extent, but hanging out with real people, a primitive, Stone Age activity, was in fact a mind and body stimulating, refreshing experience.

On Saturday morning, after stuffing ourselves with aloo-parathas and tea, which tasted a lot different in the open air, once again we rummaged our packages to prepare lunch for the battalion. The men were trying to be extremely cooperative and wholeheartedly involved in cooking and washing the pots and pans, thus making the job more time-consuming and complicated.

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Camping: Setting our open-air kitchen

Some people spend thousands of dollars to vacation at five-star resorts. We go camping, as it is the least expensive way of outing, offering the most recreational activities. Once you have bought a tent and a couple of sleeping bags, all you have to pay is around $20 to book a campsite for two nights. The experience of leaving the comforts of a home and going back into the arms of the nature is invigorating.

One fine morning, in the month of June, seven families of us went to Doll Mount Campground, and pitched our tents. Kids took instantly to the place. They ran around exploring the abundance of sticks and stones and a variety of bugs, and also discovered creaking swings and rusted slides at a play area.

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