Camping or, as Dave Attell calls it, "Drinking outdoors."

Last Friday Nancy and I left this ozone oppressed burg for a valley north of Boone called Valle Crucis. There is an annual softball tournament that takes place up there every year called Rhodo. It's a cool tournament. They only use wooden bats and the ballfields are literally pasture that has been mowed short. There are not backstops or fences and the outfield had dips and a creek bordered left and left-center field. I spent most of Saturday sitting in my folding chair watching the games. It really made me want to play. I need to try and get on one of the teams next year. This was the sixth one I had been to and the third time as a blogger.

The campground is this nice rustic place that doesn't have a name as far as I know. It's on some land owned by this alcoholic authentic redneck/hillbilly kinda guy. It's located right across the streat from the Mast General Store annex. If you have teenage kids I wouldn't recommend leaving them alone with this guy.

As always when I go camping I brought beer but these people I was hanging out with made me look like a big pussy. They brought all kinds of liquor and even had bloody mary's in the morning. I passed on that. I prefer to not drink before noon. It's just a rule I have.