Howling at Howell
Well, we weren't really howling but it is a catchy title. We could have howled with glee at the weather. The forecast given the week before included 90 degree temps and severe storms. We enjoyed low 80s most of the time.
We brought along our friend Ginge, and she would have been forgiven for howling, but she is a retired librarian and more accustomed to whispering. Remember old comedies where the main character would just miss having a grand piano fall on him or stepping off a swinging beam as a high steel worker? Well, first she and I were right next to the trailer when it slipped off the blocks while we were setting up; then that night while she was asleep, a picture fell off the wall and just missed her head. Maybe those experiences were behind her five mile walks every day.
We all did some walking and biking as well as eagle watching. Howell Station is below the Red Rock Dam so we had to go up to the Visitor's Center for a view of the lake. We also took a drive to check out another campground on the lake.
Every night was perfect for a campfire and the final night we were treated to Ken's guitar playing and singing. No howling there. (I didn't sing.) It was the biggest group we ever camped with and I'm sure the most desserts. The scale proved it. In the course of three days, 30,000 steps, four pounds, great food, and a new granddaughter for one of our group. Not bad. We are now back home, the laundry is done, the leftovers gone, and we are preparing for the next trip--Thompson Causeway in Illinois this Thursday. I will be participating on Saturday with 47 other area authors at the annual Clinton Book Fair, held this year at the community college and Thompson is just across the river.
Leave a Reply.
Some random thoughts about writing, camping, and eating.