That certainly didn't end at grandma's house.

The road sounded innocent enough. Over the Rivers and Through the Woods. << Seriously, that was the name of it. But trust me, we didn't to to grandmother's house.

Instead? A strip joint. You'll need details:

Camping! We went camping last weekend. It was fab. But the car broke down on the way home. Was even jumped FIVE times—twice on the freeway. And was then towed to a shop. And we had to wait—on the sidewalk outside a strip club, which was adjacent to the repair shop—for an hour and a half. Finally, a generous friend picked us up (and the camping gear!) and hauled us home. (THANK YOU!)

But I'm choosing to focus on the awesome outdoorsy bit of the trip instead of the car antics. How our tent spot was by the water. How we spotted a juvenile great horned owl. Sat along the river with a book and a beer.

Sure, I was tempted to go inside the club—but only because it would have made a better story. Which isn't exactly reason enough. And, honestly, any day that started with donuts and camp coffee is rousing enough already.