Into the Woods

After staggering back from Turtletown and my defense on Friday afternoon, I had some champagne and piled into the big black truck with Diva T and we set out for Western Maryland. Specifically, a little park called Swallow Falls. We had a hell of a good time in the wilderness, which I will try to relate here through the ever-effective medium of bullet points!

Friday evening:
--very little memory of the drive there, except that there was a lot of traffic.
--It's cold in the mountains. Like 15 degrees cooler than Charm City. I had to buy an ugly sweatshirt to survive. I slept with the hood up.
--people in Western MD have strange accents that Pittsburgh native Diva T had to translate.
--because our isolated campground is close-ish to the resort-ishDeep Creek Lake, the nearest town where we bought supplies had a better liquor store than my neighborhood in Baltimore. We walked in hoping for at least some foreign beers and found both Liberty Ale and all three colors of Chimay. The kid working the counter loved us.
--There was a candy called "Bear poop." I don't see how this is even slightly appetizing.
--We got to the campsite and I was in charge of putting together the gas lantern thing. I thought, "no problem, I have a damn doctorate after all." After a series of exchanges with Diva T, one of which involved me learning that the mantle is not decorative but imperative for light (it looks like a chinese paper lantern cover! COME ON!), I ignited our gasoline-powered lantern and promptly created an explosion of gas and light that is only understandable if you look at this. Diva T kept muttering something about $60 lanterns and "PhD my ass," but was very good natured about the whole thing. She even gave me excellent notepads that say "DR. MEG."
--We made steaks on the fire (in the dark) and ate them with corn. DELISH.

Saturday:
--Wake up and have "the espresso incident," which results in the breakdown of our campsite coffeemaker. Given my own addiction to the brown bean and Diva T's dependence, this is bad news. We finally have to swallow our pride and drive 10 miles to a McDonalds, since the only other option is doing a dayhike without coffee and killing each other in the woods over a splinter or something.
--Find super duper cool hike right next to our campsite that has several waterfalls. We actually lie down and take little naps on the rocks at the top of the main falls. I almost catapult over the falls (which are substantial) when some evil child screams like she's being murdered when she arrives. Father of evil spawn laughs and apologizes for waking me. Consider throwing them both over the falls.
--Have delicious turkey sandwiches on the falls.
--Survey nearby campgrounds for more fun. Cannot find more fun. Go to large Deep Creek Lake, find sandy beach, and stick our toes in the sand.
--Have meltdown. I'm rather proud of this meltdown, actually, which was the result of my defense being rather tougher than I'd anticipated, and feeling really disillusioned with academia for a spell. Luckily I have the emotional stamina of an infant and am easily distracted, plus Diva T knows when to let me roll on something, and so here's the transcript (as much as I remember) from the meltdown, which took about 20-30 minutes total:
M: (after silent tears have fallen for about 10 minutes, I decide to share) I'm really angry with my committee.
DT: Why's that?
M(in full sniffly teary mode): It was just a miserable experience! I mean, they're evil for two hours and then say how great I am? I can't take them both seriously! I feel as though I didn't really pass! I don't want to feel bad!
DT: (wisely silent while I ramble and sniffle for about five minutes)
M: (winding down) Damn, this is much more about me needing praise than them being wrong. (sniffling, a few more tears, snuffling, tears slowing down. . .sniffle. . .snuffle. . .nose blow. . .face wipe) You know what? That pedicurist on Friday totally didn't get my heels. I still have a huge rough spot there. Idiotic woman.
DT: (looking at my foot) Wow, that is pretty rough. You're right.

--Return to camp for more cooking. This time it's hotdogs and corn, followed by S'mores. I have way too many and get hyper and then collapse. We sleep for something like 12 hours.

Sunday:
--Wake up after 12 hour sleep feeling really really really alert. Leave immediately for coffee, find foofoo deli and pick up the NY Times, Washington Post, and two large coffees.
--Sit by fire and read all of both. (DT reads all of both; I get through half and then go for a walk so that I can secretly go on the swings in the playground. I have them all to myself and have an excellent swing and then return in fine fettle.)
--Bolstered by our newsiness and coffee, we go to the ranger to ask where we should go for a day hike. Ranger [indecipherable Germanic name, big lesbian build, she is hereafter called Badonkadonk] sends us to the "lostland run" in Potomac State Forest. I am concerned, but Ranger B seems delighted, and explains that she helped build the two "swinging bridges" on the trail. Diva T is really excited, and so we go.
--The hike is not easy. We are flattered that Badonkadonk thought we could handle it. We laugh that she thought we were les-bionic and able to leap tall buildings, etc. We hike further than she told us and come upon fabulous waterfalls. Have snack. Decide to head back and drive down to the Potomac.
--barely drag ourselves back to the car (loooooong hike for us) and drive to Potomac River. However, the overlook is all screwed up and we want to have sandwiches next to the river, and so we plow through some strange man's yard, through the woods, and end up in the middle of nowhere on the banks of the Potomac. GORGEOUS. They would have never found our bodies had we died there, I'm convinced. Ok, that's hyperbole. It was quite lovely, though.
--Pick our way back over rock, over dale, over logs, through what looked a lot like poison ivy, and past some half-naked rednecks.
--Too tired from hike to build a fire, so we decide to catch a movie in town. Diva T wants a beer beforehand, I try to tell her that we will not be able to buy booze on a Sunday. She scoffs. The county is indeed dry, and Diva T nearly has her own meltdown.
--We watch DaVinci Code and have something to rant about all the way home. We cannot even eat when we get back to camp, so we drink Chimay and eat crackers by the fire until we again totally collapse. (Let me add that Diva T was able to salvage the lantern by this time and so we were bathed in its nuclear glow.)

Monday:
--Morning ritual is so automatic that we are able to drink coffee and read the paper on top of our waterfall. Jealous hikers look on greedily. We laugh and attempt to tan the few inches of skin that are exposed to sunlight. It's warmer today.
--We pack up, we head out, we eat at a Park-n-Dine and nearly die from overeating. (Cherry pie a la mode is always my undoing.)
--We head home, Diva T's truck passes 100K miles, and I take the longest shower of my life.