And when I think I'm not catching any breaks...

My husband and son are camping. Doug did NOT want to go on this trip. Friday night it was raining with tropical storm Andrea remnants, and they faced a 2.5 hour drive, to pitch tents in the dark and pouring rain, and a 9 mile hike the next day.

I got home from work last night after a TWO HOUR commute to find him waiting for me by the back door. "Did Dan call you and cancel the trip or anything... are we still really going on this trip...???"

Yes. Yes you are.

He was hardly packed - everything was all over the place. It was a disaster. Geoff was ready to go, but didn't care it was raining so he didn't pack or organize his wet weather gear. I had to scramble and help him. Doug couldn't find his day pack. Geoff pulled a zipper off track on his brand new replacement piece for his Osprey pack. It was a cluster if ever there was a cluster.

They left a half hour late, all the guys were waiting for them at the departure point... I was sad that they left in such a disorganized manner but I didn't think I'd get home at 6:15pm when leaving work at 4pm.

Oh 128. How do I hate thee?

Today, I did 6 hours of volunteer work today at the town park BBQ for the art show, and the entire time wondered how they were doing. I knew the skies had cleared but figured there would be a lot of water on the trails.

My phone rang at about 10pm, it was Doug. First thing out of his mouth was "So, you remember Homer Simpson falling down Springfield Gorge? Yeah. That was me today."

Uh, what?

Seems that he and a couple other people came to a ledge after a difficult climb up, they all had to help each other. He turned to the Scoutmaster and said "awesome! Let's Go!" and FLOOOOOP slipped right down backwards, about 10 feet straight down off the ledge. He said he landed on his feet, and pivoted as a reflex, and fell down again, another 5 or so feet on his ass, then slipped even further down, ending up about 25 feet down from where he started.

I bet the guys at the top of the ledge thought they lost him for good and for sure.

"The only difference between me and Homer was there was no landing on my head." says my husband.

He yelled up to them that he was okay, and it was a challenge climbing back up - but he got there. He had no choice but to continue the hike... the granite rocks were really slippery... and some of the younger scouts were then terrified after watching him go down the side of the mountain.

I hope he sleeps okay, he said his thigh and ass are horribly bruised. I told him to go to the camp office and get an ice pack but he was already in his tent horizontal. Hopefully he can get out of the tent and stand and not be screaming at the top of his lungs. Hopefully he can drive... I have no one to drive me up there to help drive him back.

I'm sitting here thinking it could have been so much worse. He could have had to get airlifted out of the mountain, he could have broke his leg, hip, coccyx. He could be dead.

I was thinking early today about "when am I gonna catch a break?"

I think i just did.