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iron creek near mount saint helens

Airstream camping Iron Creek Mount Saint Helens


First time out with another couple, Deb and Blue. How to describe them? They are prepared for anything and there’s nothing Deb can’t cook and nothing Blue can’t fix, build or operate. If there’s a nuclear war or an earthquake, I hope I’m at their house when it happens.

The plan this weekend was to camp somewhere that Ralph and I could hike and Deb and Blue could ride their new motorcycles. These plans were aborted before we even reached the campground. The trailhead (we discovered on the way) was washed out and had been closed for the last eight months (can’t say who neglected to research this but it rhymes with Ralph). Deb and Blue hadn’t even accepted delivery of the motorcycles, and in fact, had decided to cancel the order on the way to the campground and buy a new fishing boat instead.

Accomplished campers, Deb and Blue arrived a day ahead of us and had a full compound set up by the time we got there, complete with outdoor kitchen, party tent, lighting, furniture and something wonderful bubbling in a dutch oven over a fire in the pit. Thank god for the fire and the tent, as it was raining (no, really?) and continued to do so for the rest of the weekend.

We passed the time agreeably huddled together under a tarp, playing a drinking game we made up using our iPods (Deb, ever prepared, brought a gallon of Cuervo Gold). The rules of “Shuffle Shame” are easy: set your iPod to “shuffle songs” and if the other players give two out of three of your random selections the thumbs down, you must take a shot. My iPod, loaded with showtunes, opera, foreign rap, and Barry Manilow was an at-risk minefield. With all drinking games, though, the rules soon blur. We polished off the tequila, had a great dinner, and hitched up the next day right as the sun was coming out.

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