Bailing in the Middle of the Night

We went rafting this weekend. It was the hottest weekend of the year in Portland, so we decided to spend it in the high desert.

We had a great time. We made Kung Pow Chicken the first night (yum, see post below in comments under Camping Food: Lessons Learned). We went rafting on Saturday with a fun group of people. We had a great time; Ken hit the rapids better than he ever has. We finished around 3. That's when we started overheating. We sat in the river for a few hours. Nice but hot. Ken went and got us milkshakes. Delicious but still hot. We tried to eat dinner. Too hot to eat.

We tried to sit back in the river. We tried sitting still. Neither cooled us down, so we decided to go to bed. It was 9:45. We were in as few clothes as possible but neither of us could sleep. Our neighbors played loud music. Each song kept reminding us that we were still hot and couldn't sleep.

At 1 AM, Ken shook me up. "I packed up the car. I'm ready to go home if you are".

"Huh? OK." (We have a standing rule in our house that the person who cares more gets to decide.)

I didn't care if we stayed until the next morning or left now, so I got dressed and packed my sleeping bag. We were on the road within 15 minutes. Ken told me in the car that the straw that broke his hot camel's back was when Kinley woke him up by panting heavily on his face. By 3:30 we were home and turned on the A/C to cool down our burning hot bedroom.

We slept until 10. I kissed Ken in the morning for making a good decision for us. We slept well. And more importantly, we slept. Ken spent the day working on his Fantasy Football draft that afternoon. I cleaned the basement a little bit and, as soon as he left, I started drywalling my craft area of the basement (hey, it was too hot to scrape paint outside). I finished the second coat yesterday and am happy. We both feel like we got two weekends by (unexpectedly) coming home early.

Win, win.