13 hours is the title of this blog because that’s how long Hugh slept in our tent on Saturday night at Santee State Park.
And I swear, he didn’t even touch the fresh-squeezed lime margaritas.
It must have been the fresh air, the countless trips to the playground, discovering a worm hanging from a tree, touching a minnow in a bucket of bait, throwing rocks at the water and walking barefoot on a broken tree limb wedged into the shallow shore of the lake.
Whatever it was, we were grateful for it.
We also highly recommend camping with gay men to ensure a fresh supply of chilled wine, a grilled vegetable medley marinated in fresh herbs, and s’mores made from a trio of chocolates.
And lest we forego any stereotypes, Tasha remembered the hammer and helped everyone stake their tents.