21 June: On The Beach #thewildness

AI artwork, beach, hills, person looking out to sea, mute colours.
AI artwork, beach, hills, person looking out to sea, mute colours.

21. Write a short story about friends who embark on an unforgettable camping trip in the wilderness. 

On The Beach

It was the four of us, two couples who hadn’t yet coupled, best friends more like, and we drove to the coast. The car was packed with camping gear. Just a small hike through a forest to the beach, the boys said. Just a few miles.

From the carpark, we slipped on our backpacks. Mine was heavy, it dug into my shoulders and the small of my back. After an hour, I wished I was home. The path was muddy, the fallen logs too large to step over, moss hung long from tree branches and dripped down on us, my shoes scraped at my blisters, and the trail climbed steep and endlessly upward – or so it seemed. Someone commented that I wasn’t a happy camper. I don’t remember what I replied, but I doubt that I let it pass. It’s just not in my nature.

After hiking six hours, that’s six as in 6, we came out of the forest to a view of the sea from the height of the headland. Our feet were stunned to a stop. The sound of seagulls filled the air, and warm sunlight was our instant reward. A pebble beach below stretched for miles, empty, waves breaking on silver-skin driftwood, the sky unbroken by clouds. My legs trembled from fatigue as the trail descended.

We found a spot on the beach to pitch our tents, lit a campfire, and ate tinned cold stuff. Nobody thought singing campfire songs was a good idea. I whimpered relief.

That night I dreamt that the tide came in, and swept me out to sea. My tent, my sleeping bag and my hissing air mattress bobbed along on an ocean current, and when I woke, my hand brushed the inside of the nylon tent, and water dripped down my wrist and arm…because of course a tent leaks when you touch the fabric on the inside.

I panicked, jumped up and dashed out of the tent, still zipped into my sleeping bag. It was deeply night, an endless dark, except for a milky spread of stars across the sky. I sat on the beach, taking it all in. Made a memory to last a lifetime.


Written for the Wildness Challenge Day 21. Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.

12 responses to “21 June: On The Beach #thewildness”

  1. These things always felt worthwhile when you finally got to feel you’d left the world behind.

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    1. Well said, that’s exactly what happens.

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  2. Jane Dougherty avatar
    Jane Dougherty

    I wouldn’t have been a happy camper either. Eating stuff cold out of a tin is not my idea of fun. A memory to last a lifetime. I take it you never repeated the experience?

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    1. Repeated repeatedly until my boys grew up and left home. In those days, hotel rooms were an expense we couldn’t afford, so it was camping and tents and roasted sausages over the fire. And never ever again repeated after they left home!

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  3. You lost me at “camping gear” although I did read your entire piece. As you know, I am not – with a capital N.O.T. – a camper.
    Yesterday we visited Mr Bill’s siblings. His sister and her husband related the jaw-dropping experience they had hiking the Bear Grylls-worthy trails around Cadillac Mountain in Maine last year. They are both in their early 70s and go for daily walks but they are not mountain climbers. They were stuck on the trail for 7 hours, mostly trying to find their way off. At one point her ‘dicky’ knee finally gave out and her husband had to help pull her up every few feet. Going back down was just as bad, sometimes worse because of the tendency to slip. And did I mention no cell service? Calling for help was impossible. Talk about unhappy campers. Never again; a cruise on the Seine is scheduled for September.
    This sounds like good story fodder for me.
    Good morning, dear Misky!

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    1. And good evening, Nancy! That trip sounds like a nightmare to me. I’d burn all my hiking gear and tents if that were me. But I must say that the nighttime view of the sky has never left me.

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      1. I do believe that, Misky. My SIL said when they finally made it to the top, she had such an adrenaline rush at the magnificent view that she forgot all about her pain … at least temporarily.

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  4. I can SOOOO envision this!

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  5. Like DB, I could easily envision this. When I was homeless for seven months after Hurricane Laura, I had my fill of camping! Great prose. It put me right there. https://rolandyeomans.blogspot.com/2023/06/betrayal.html
    https://rolandyeomans.blogspot.com/2023/06/beaten.html

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    1. I can well imagine! I’ll be around later today to read yours. Things are a bit hectic around here lately, and I’ve not had the usual amount of time for reading.

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