Camp So Hard.

Get out your bear skins and prepare the Montana Bananas because this blog post is all about a little thing I love to call “camping”.

Ok, so everyone calls it camping. Jerks.

Everything I learned about this great hobby (is this a sport yet Olympics?!) I learned from my dad.

My dad is awesome.

The great father is a cross between Jeff Bridges and a mountain man at its finest. He’s taught me many things in life; probably the best and most important have been (in no particular order): camping, fishing and swearing like a sailor (thanks dad!).

From the time I was a wee child, swigging watered-down apple juice like a baller, I was camping.

Nature is amazing, bitches.

My parents would let me climb on rocks and frolic in the wilderness (probably in the hopes that I’d be carried off by a mountain lion but that’s another story).

“Now drink the juice and just forget…”

Every summer my father would pack up me and my little sister and we’d hit the forest. Out in the Montana wild it’s beauty and awe. Nothing compares to Red Lodge or Cooke City or Forest Lake.

Bask in my beauty.

We would rough it too. I’m a true Montanan – I can go for days without a shower, sleep on the hard ground and chop wood with the best of them.

My dad taught me well. Even today I make him proud (hi dad!). At least in the camping realm. On the “lady-like” front I can’t speak to that.

Exhibit A.

So this weekend, my husband and I packed up our cache and hit the road for Flagstaff, AZ. Arizona may seem un-campable but up north are great little forest areas that could almost, almost, be mistaken for Montana.

Squint hard.

I have three requirements for camping:


I call this the “Blair Witch” pose.



The dynamic duo.

Sometimes I require a fire, but this being dry Arizona, fires are prohibited so sadly, we were unable to start one. I can make an exception. One other thing I do when camping is I always compare it to camping with my dad – something that I’m sure makes my husband want to throttle me.

“My dad always starts a fire. He doesn’t need gasoline.”

“We always would fish when we camped with my dad.”


So we arrived. And wearing my lucky Outsiders t-shirt…

We set up camp…

From this…

…to this

I had a glass of wine while the husband toiled with pitching a tent. I made a makeshift paper towel holder. Classing up the forest one day at a time.

The time on my hands astounds me.

From there we went on a walk where we stumbled upon the cutest horny toad. I really wanted to pick this little guy up and put him in my pocket.

All together now, “Awwwww…”

Eventually we settled in for the day/night. I discovered a few things in my newest camping attempt. Peeing in the woods is impossible when you’re on the GODDAMN ARIZONA TRAIL.

This is not the correct way to pee in the woods. I repeat IT IS NOT.

Yes. We camped right on the main trail where every 10 minutes hikers and bikers would come traipsing through. This resulted in a Jules, pants down around her ankles, scouring the forest, only in mid-pee have to yank said pants back on.

Now, as mentioned in an earlier post, I can shit/pee in the woods with the best of men. In fact, it was my stepmom who showed me the correct way to do this. I just do the P90X squat, with my back against the tree, and pray to baby Jesus that a spider doesn’t go skittering down my backside.

Tony Horton would be proud.

From there…more wine was poured, the music came on and I whipped up a delicious dinner of blue cheese burgers, beans and creamed corn.

Order up, mofos.

We lounged in chairs like sultans and enjoyed the beauty of the forest. Although I must say, drinking wine and watching mountain bikers drive by and their stares of envy was a bit intimidating since they were working out and I was not. I felt guilty.

I lied. I don’t feel guilty.

Darkness descended. There ensued the bright idea of trying to map the stars and constellations using only my phone and my drunken knowledge. I traipsed through the woods. Walking tipsy in flip flops was probably not the best idea but it worked out for the best. I found the big dipper – a third grade rookie move – and promptly called it quits.

The best part of the trip came at about 10pm. The coyotes started their howling.


It was all sorts of creepy, majestic wonder, making me realize that whenever I’m out in the secluded woods at night is usually the precise moment I start to regret my love of horror movies.

I regret it so hard.

No Comments
  • Reply

    Marsha Stewart

    August 19, 2012 at 11:23 pm

    What?!! No UFO sightings?

  • Reply

    Harley May

    August 19, 2012 at 11:40 pm

    “Nature is amazing, bitches.”

    I would love to go camping with you, Jules. I’m a “rough-it” kind of girl and 89% positive I could keep up with your rustic Montanan ways. Great post. Funnies and I’m pretty sure you aren’t wearing a bra.

    “LOTS OF WINNING HERE,” she said making circular mostions with her hands toward her computer screen.

    • Reply


      August 20, 2012 at 12:12 am

      Harley May, why are you looking at my boobies? But yes. You are correct. I hate bras. In a past life I burned them. Thank you for reading. Please camp with me next time.

  • Reply

    Tammie Yeager

    August 20, 2012 at 12:42 am

    Thanx for the mention baby. Eating and reading your blog at applebees lMAO Your Father impressed as well. We are very proud.

  • Reply


    August 20, 2012 at 1:26 pm

    Jules you are one in a million. Your Dad is dreamy. But where is a pic of the husband who did all the toil while you spoil (ed) on wine and music and books!!! Adorable read!

  • Reply

    Michael Gillan Maxwell

    August 20, 2012 at 1:33 pm

    Love the sound of coyotes! We have lots of them around here. I stop what I’m doing to go outside and listen to them. They’re cool as long as they stay away from my cocker spaniels!

    • Reply


      August 20, 2012 at 2:32 pm

      exactly! Howl all you want just stay away from the livestock. thanks for reading!

  • Reply


    August 20, 2012 at 1:45 pm

    Jules you know how technology hates me!  Well somehow when I changed my name to susanaisy, for posting  purposes, word press knocked out my website.  am wriitng to let you know that i am now susanaisy.  loved the camping bit!!!  xxxsusanaisy


    • Reply


      August 20, 2012 at 2:31 pm

      No worries Susan, I thought it was you. Thank you for reading! Always appreciated!

  • Reply


    August 20, 2012 at 4:10 pm

    That’s it…I am getting you a Go Girl.
    Looks like you had fun! <3

  • Reply


    August 28, 2012 at 7:25 pm

    love this Jules – grew up camping also, but haven’t been in a looong time. Need to get on that asap.

    • Reply


      August 29, 2012 at 4:52 am

      Julie, I’d love to go camping with you. We should organize a writers/campers retrea

  • Reply


    August 31, 2012 at 6:52 pm

    totes love this idea!!! Harley M, you in?

Leave a Reply

Leave A Comment


  • #tbt to that one time I met John Mayer and could show off my stomach in short shirts. #throwbackthursday #johnmayer #tbt❤️ #bellyshirt
  • Best. Concert. Ever.  @thedevilmakes3
  • The Devil Makes Three.  Kill me. ❤❤❤
  • Pre-concert beers. #thedevilmakesthree #beer
  • I am breathing deep and sharing the first line of my (currently) unpublished book - "The Ramblin' Hand of Sherry Anne." After rewriting 75% of my last draft in three months, edits are finally fucking finished and I feel calm and peaceful and light. Typically, I tend to not want to share for fear of failure BUT I am freaking psyched. No more white knuckling this novel. Here goes nothin'. #teasertuesday #amwriting #amediting #manuscript #writerlife #writer #writermama #novel #publishedorbust
  • Bukowski, bath and bubbles. Book #1 of #2017. #amreading #bookstagram #bookworm #bathtime #bukowski #booknerd #books #reading #read

Follow Me