wrong weekend, again

I am going camping with my buds

     A bunch of guys I grew up with, plus a couple of people I recently met....like within the past 5 years..head out into the woods for a weekend of fellowship and fun.
     We like going in early November.  The bugs are gone.  The people are gone.  The nights are crisp and great for sleeping.
     In all the years we have gone, I only remember one that got rained out.  I may have been at fault.  When Dave and the kids showed up at my house, I said, optimistically, "The rain will pass by the time we reach Savannah."  After we sat in the car watching pouring rain in Savannah with two kids and three slightly grouchy adults for what seemed hours, we gave in and went home.
     One time we were at the Mississippi Palisades and it was pretty cold.  I remember waking up and thinking leaves were hitting the tent top.  It was snow.  While we were OK, all our water was frozen.
    We stopped going to the Palisades when we goofed and picked a bow hunting weekend.  We were warned not to stray too far from the campsite and to wear orange.
     In subsequent years, we ended up at Apple River Canyon.  It's a beautiful park with several nice hiking trails.  We seemed to find large groups of Boy Scouts camping next to us on our last two trips.
     So we moved to Lake Le Aqua Na.
     In November some of the camping grounds are closed....go figure.
     We always look for one site that is a little secluded, not near other campers.  I snore.
     We bring our own wood, pay our fees, clean up the camping site when we leave in the morning.
     We do have some nature based products that we bring along to ward off the cold.  Some of these products are made from grapes, some from rye grasses.  We listen to Simon and Garfunkel, or Coyote Oldham,  watch the stars and tell stories.
     Some of the stories are true.  Many of them have been told before, but have grown in scope with each passing year.
     We remember those high school days, when we had no worries.
     We remember the difficult times in life, when life itself was a challenge.
     We talk about the Cubs.  The Bears.  Sometimes the other sports, but mainly football and baseball.
     It's going to be cold as hell this weekend.  27 for a low Saturday night.
     There is a time change.  So when we go to bed at midnight, half frozen and maybe slurring words due to the cold, we will really be going to bed at 11.
     To me, it means an extra hour of freezing my butt off in a tent.
     The really hard part is getting out of the bag in the morning.  I have to get dressed, take down the tent, throw (literally, it's usually damp from the dew) the tent, rain fly, tarp, sleeping bag, extra clothes, empty bottles, and everything else I can find into the car, which is running with the heat on high, within 5 minutes or literally freeze solid. OK, not literally.
     At breakfast at the restaurant in Lena, we will all complain about how cold it was, talk about going earlier next year, talk about not going at all next year because at age 66 it's hard to sleep on the ground, pay our bill and part.
     And secretly, we will all be looking forward to next year.