A Camping Poem

A camping trip to Acadia, what fun for us all,
biking and sightseeing, perfect for the fall.

The weather looked wet for Sunday and so,
we set out early, Friday & Saturday we'd go.

A ride in the truck, was longer than we liked,
traffic and construction, would've been faster to have biked!

Finally arrived, now set up camp and eat,
an all new set of obstacles to meet.

A fire was our stove, the hot dogs to roast,
add in sides and a drink, dinner was better than most.

Off to bed for the kids and later we'd turn in too,
a sleepless night laying on rocks, and raining straight through.

A wet, sleepy Momma, I awoke with the sun,
thinking this day will be better, let's start the fun.

Packed up our camp and set out for the day,
to the top of Cadillac, starting off a beautiful way.

Back to sea level, unloaded the bikes,
told the kids, expect a good hike.

Off we go, things are improving so far,
or so we thought, then we left the tar.

Up hills in the heat, the kids they did whine,
BJ took the lead, his bike seemed better than mine!

A few more miles we dragged them, whines and tears,
so glad we did this, yup, makin' memories for years.

Got back to the truck and ate lunch on the lawn,
it was to be an afternoon to frequently yawn.

Exhausted and fatigued, we drove around,
Thunder Hole our destination, no big boom to be found.

We awaited peak time, at high tide the rangers say,
sat in the parking lot, making fun our own way.

People watching would be the most fun we'd have had,
driving rented mini-vans, attempting to park them was just sad.

Multiple people would jump out and aid their approach,
"Come, come .... STOP" would be their attempt to coach.

It wasn't just one, more like a dozen or more,
probably from the same "mini-vans for tourists" store.

A great time we did have, sitting there in the lot,
ironic the fun you have when it is not sought.

The Hole it never did thunder, the drive home was wet,
was a dreadful trip camping, the goal to make memories met.

The type of memories, well for now, they're still sour,
perhaps they'll be funnier with every passing hour.

Until that day, I'll remember the good and bad,
and chalk this one up to the worst camping trip we ever had.