Depth in Shallow Water

    As I mentioned in my last post, I recently went canoeing for the first time. One of my friends - whom we’ll call Ardelis - invited me to join her on a group camping trip. Her ex-boyfriend was originally supposed to accompany her, but (due to his recent status as ‘ex’) she had no one to go with her. Being that I haven’t been camping for a few years, and I’d never been canoeing, I decided this would be fun change of pace. If nothing else, more time to bond with Ardelis, one of Warden’s friends from early childhood on who has become a fairly close friend of my own in the short time I’ve known her.
   
    I had little to no idea of what to expect - I didn’t even know if we were going to be way out in the wilderness, or at a camp site with electricity and water (we were) - so I packed only what I felt were necessities, and whatever I’d need to get by. Supplies-wise, I did more than fine (I had leaned towards the idea of being nowhere near bathrooms or running water and so on) but when it came to our fellow campers, I wasn’t sure how to feel.
   
    While Ardie had warned me about her brothers, I had taken most of the descriptions I’d heard as hyperbole. I quickly learned my mistake. I commented at one point, laughing, that I felt like I was in ‘hostile territory.’ When she asked what I meant, I replied, “Well, remember: I’m kind of a witch, so…” She nodded, understanding quickly: the portable sound system which blared near constantly the duration of the trip was at the moment playing a song about wanting a ‘country-music Jesus’ to come and “save us all.”

I was, after all, camping with a large group of service men and their women - men who, at a glance, could pretty quickly be identified with one word: rednecks.