27 Mosquito Bites, Two Wet Dogs, and One Very Sad Picnic Table
My Last Night in a Tent
There comes a moment in every camping princess’s life when she realizes she’s simply not cut out for sleeping on the ground anymore. Mine happened over the Fourth of July weekend in 2021. But to fully appreciate this story, we need to go back a year.
The Secret Spot
It was 2020, and Brian and I weren’t married yet. He had this amazing Sprinter van and a secret camping spot tucked away in the Mt. Hood National Forest.
And when I say secret, I mean I’m not going to tell anyone about it ever lol.
We’d escaped the city over the Fourth of July weekend, bringing the dogs along to avoid the fireworks and noise. Just us, the dogs, the van, and the beautiful Oregon wilderness.
It was perfect.
The Great Fourth of July Camping Trip 2021
The following year, we decided to recreate our magical Fourth of July getaway. Same beautiful forest. Same secret spot. Same dogs. Different sleeping arrangements. This time, we had a Coleman one-minute tent. I mean, how hard could it be? Throw the tent in the truck, load up the dogs, pack the coolers, and off we go.
Except when we arrived at our secret spot.
Someone was already there. Sigh…
Now, if you know Brian, you know he’s not the type to give up easily. He’s a master navigator, always convinced there’s another road, another trail, another hidden gem just around the corner.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find us something.”
Welcome to Mosquito Hell
Several miles and some increasingly questionable forest roads later, we pulled into what looked like a promising little clearing. Except it wasn’t a clearing. It was a mosquito convention. And apparently, we were the guests of honor. We’d been driving for hours. The dogs needed to pee. We needed to eat. The coolers were in the back of the truck. I opened the door, stepped outside, and approximately 45 seconds later had like 27 mosquito bites. TWENTY-SEVEN.
This was a whole new level of insect warfare. I practically dove back into the truck.
“Nope. Absolutely not. We are NOT staying here.”
Brian, being the eternal optimist, assured me he’d find something better. So off we went. Again… Down roads that I’m not entirely convinced were meant for vehicles. At this point, I was starting to wonder whether we’d ever make it out of the forest, let alone find somewhere to sleep.
Enter The Saddest Picnic Table in Oregon
Just when I’d about given up hope, we stumbled upon an actual campground.
With people! Real people!
It was a first-come, first-served “campground” with one spot left. One.
It had what might have been the saddest picnic table I’d ever seen. I’m not talking about a little weathered wood or a missing board. I’m talking about a picnic table that looked like it had lost a fight with a logging truck.
But you know what?
It was available.
Home sweet home.
We pitched our fancy one-minute Coleman tent, unloaded the dogs, and headed off for a hike.
Not all who wonder…
With camp established, we decided to take the dogs for a hike. We got a little lost. But then then came through the trees to discover a gorgeous body of water tucked away in the forest.
It was one of those moments when you stop, look around, and think, Okay. This is why we do this. In agreement the dogs immediately jumped in. Now, if you’ve ever shared a tiny tent with wet, 50-pound dogs, you already know where this is going.
Nothing says romance quite like the smell of damp dog in a Coleman tent, but standing there in the middle of the forest, watching the dogs splash around, surrounded by all that beauty…
I was happy. Really happy.
The Next Day
We survived the night. The tent stayed standing. The dogs eventually dried off. Nobody got eaten by mosquitoes in their sleep. Success! The next morning, we packed up our campsite and said goodbye to the saddest picnic table in Oregon.
But not before leaving our mark. We carved our initials into the table, a little reminder that we’d been there and survived, and then we made a solemn promise.
We were never sleeping in a tent again. Not “maybe next time we’ll bring a better tent.” Not “perhaps we should invest in an air mattress.”
Nope.
One Last Stop: Little Crater Lake
On our way home, we decided to make one final detour to Little Crater Lake in the Mt. Hood National Forest. And oh my goodness.
Imagine walking through the forest and coming upon this impossibly blue pool of water. Not a lake in the traditional sense, but a deep, spring-fed pool with water so crystal clear you can see straight down into it.
The color is almost unreal. Brilliant turquoise and deep blue, surrounded by trees and mountain greenery. It was absolutely breathtaking. It felt like the perfect ending. Just a beautiful reminder of why I love exploring Oregon