Drug Trafficking and the Pursuit of Happiness (Part Deux)
Good morning campers! It is a cloudy, drizzly day in Austin, which is going to be perfect to accomplish all of the chores on my list. I want to vacuum behind my fridge today, which may seem weird, but I am doing my damnedest to avoid the bugs that lurk in the walls of Texan buildings. Â
So back to camping in Big Bend. After arriving hideously stoned from those pot-laced Wally Ranchers, we managed to pitch our lopsided tent in gale-force wind. WC was convinced that we needed to put up a tarp to block the wind, but we didât bring a tarp. Instead, we tried hanging a blanket from two scrubby trees, which became more like a sail than a wind block. We gave up on that idea and put the rain cover on the tent instead.Â
It was 2 hours before sunset when we finally finished setting up camp, so we decided to go for a hike to the Window. WC is very pale, and he has the most ridiculous looking hiking gear that covers his body while still keeping him cool. For hikes, he usually dons a large floppy fishing hat, a plaid REI shirt with the wind venting in the back, a scarf for his neck, a pair of zip-off convertible cargo pant shorts, hiking boots and wool socks. He tops this all off with a tiny Osprey backpack and sunglasses. To be fair, he isnât much of a mountain man, so it is probably for the best that he arrives prepared in the wilderness. However, in my stoned state, I couldnât help but giggle at his outfit.Â
We started off on our hike, and after about a mile, we sat down and had some water. Â I looked over at WC (still stoned) and realized that one of the lenses of his sunglasses had jumped ship, and he had been hiking the entire time with one lens. My obvious course of action was to poke him in the eye. He protested and then realized that he hadnât noticed his lack of sunglasses lens while waving casually to the other hikers we passed. I think we laughed for a good 10 minutes.Â
We did finally make it to the Window, aptly named because you can look out between two rocks and see a panoramic view of the valley below. There were lots of yellow jackets roaming around, and I nearly fell off of a cliff trying to get away from one. This scared WC, and I got a long lecture about not falling off of things. Thanks, mom.
That night, the stars were incredible. Also, WC farted in the tent, and it smelled like stinky macaroni and cheese. Ew.Â
In the morning, we cooked eggs and set off for another hike to Emory Peak, the highest peak in the Chisos Mountains. It was a tough climb 5 miles uphill to the base of the peak, and once we reached the base, we had to rock climb to reach the pinnacle. That would have been fine, except for the bugs. The area was crawling with ladybugs and fleas. Luckily, I learned my lesson the day before -- while teetering on a cliff, do not swat. WC didnât go to the very top because he didnât like the bugs, but I scrambled up there to take in the 360 panorama. It was a âI captured the castleâ moment.Â
Side Note: I donât know if anyone else feels this way, but I hate downhill on hiking trips. Even though it is easier from a cardiovascular standpoint, I twist my ankle at least once every time I go down a steep trail. I am usually tired after climbing up the damn hill, and I canât concentrate enough to step properly on the way down.Â
On our last night in Big Bend, we drank the Bordeaux and stared at the stars. WC farted upon arrival in the tent again, which was similarly icky. He said he didnât do it on purpose, but I think he did. We fell asleep, and I woke up wrapped in blankets and his arms as the sun creeped up over the Chisos range. Â I could have stayed there forever.Â
Oh, but the story isnât over, and it wouldnât be funny if that is how it ended. We didnât smoke all of the pot during our trip, and we realized that we still had a fairly large bag of good weed. After breaking down camp, I confirmed with WC that he thought it wise to shove it back in my vagina for the drive home. It was a bit more difficult to do the preparatory work at a campsite because whipping out a condom in broad daylight and shoving a wad of marijuana in it is NSFW. Camping is a family show, you know. I did most of the leg work in the car while we drove to the lodge to look for coffee. I figured the lodge bathroom would be better suited to this sort of work, but I took a few condoms and put them in my purse just in case I mucked up the packaging. I locked and loaded, we grabbed our coffee, and we headed back toward the border control checkpoint.
My cell phone had no service for the entire duration of the camping saga, and as we drove toward civilization, I received a rapid fire text string from a girl at work about how WC and I are the subject of serious speculation. If I wasnât anxious enough about being a drug mule, my anxiety really kicked in with the knowledge that my tawdry affair with a co-worker is front page gossip. Fabulous.Â
At the border patrol checkpoint, we were pulled. My palms started to sweat and I wondered if the pot smell was wafting out of my vagina.Â
Border Patrol Guy: Hi, where are you coming from?Â
WC: Camping in Big Bend.Â
Border Patrol Guy: Are you both US citizens?Â
Border Patrol Guy: Ok, have a nice day.Â
And we drove off. I am so glad we took precautions.Â
The next morning, I had to go back to work and face the music, but before any music, I needed coffee. I stopped at Starbucks on my way to work for an Americano. I brought my laptop because I wanted to check my email before I got to the office, so I made myself comfortable for a few minutes. After I was satisfied that I had a good grasp on the important emails, I closed my laptop and started packing up my belongings. My big purse was hanging open as I shoveled some cords inside of it, and I realized that all my extra condoms from drug muling were prominently on display. I was embarrassed and looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. Sure enough, there was a nerdy-looking, thirty-something man with a book who was giving me one of those looks like, âhey baby howâs about you use one of those with me?â I turned red, snatched up my laptop and ran out of the store. Â