I can’t recall inking and posting this one. You guys seem to recall everything I’ve ever done effortlessly- does anyone remember this one?
Posts Tagged camping
It’s one of those things you should look up, once you realize. What the heck IS a ‘stition’, and why is a ‘super’ one so silly? Are regular Stitions NOT silly?
All I know is, you darn well better take a rainfly and a raincoat on camping trips. The one time everyone in the car thought that someone else had brought the tent? Yeah, it rained. No other way THAT one could have happened. We slept under a tarp. With holes in it. I think we might have tied it up with boot laces. It was a long evening anyhow.
Now that I’ve thought a little more about it, we need to find two SUPER competitive people. One of them, convinced that the bad luck of black cats crossing your path is the worst kind of thing, pitted against the other, who is absolutely positive that breaking a mirror will cause the most horrific bad luck. Provide them with an open space, a few black cats and a few mirrors, and things will get lively for a good long while, don’t you think?
Baby raccoon. Cuuuuuuute. But you should have heard the li’l guy when the service came to cart him away for relocation. The guy had to transfer the raccoon from the trap to the box in which he could be transported.
Up until the guy showed up, you’d have thought the baby raccoon would have gone quietly. Cute little scared fellow.
Nah. They sound like the Tasmanian Devil in a blender. You never heard such random, angry sounds that clearly translate into “I’d much rather you did not touch me. Go to Hell. Right now, if convenient.”
Snarling. That’s probably what it was.
Anyhow, the guy finally had to sort of upend the trap onto the box and wait for the raccoon to drop into the box, which he did not do.
One of my cousin’s kids suggested that they gently coax the raccoon with a twig to the backside through the bars of the trap. And after the guy said that might not do any good, it did.
One very angry baby raccoon, off to be relocated to some stretch of Wisconsin woodlands where six others had already been carted.
And maybe the ones that are left will be joining them before they eat any more chickens. Or not.
Hey! I’m back.
I’ve already sent out some photos to the Patreon Patrons of Hubris, but here’s some more:
That one’s a color-enhanced photo of an eroded rockface. “color-enhanced”, in this case, is not the cool NASA kind where they combine visible light, X-ray, Infrared, and other kinds of photos into one super clear shot of a nebula a gazillion miles away. No, this was me sliding the saturation control over a half-inch til the colors reminded me of what we were seeing. This one wound up looking like a baked good gone very wrong on a damp shelf. It’s really a couple of feet of exposed rock in the middle of an otherwise pretty smooth boulder. The boulder was house-sized, and there were a couple of places like this were it looked as if a pocket of gasses or imperfections in the stone were knocked open. Pretty fun.
And here’s me, headed into the vast unknown. Not so vast that they didn’t build a footbridge into it, mind you, but I wasn’t coming back out that day nor the next, so it was plenty vast for me.
And this is the lookout just down from our campsite. This spot is pretty nice for sipping scotch while the sun goes down… except for the fact that, after the world around you becomes pitch black, you become very aware of how easy it is to become one of those stories people tell around campfires. You know those stories. They end with things like “And he took that one… last… step.”
Okay, now I really am back from Charlotte. Sold a few caricatures. Sold a few books. Got some more ideas about how I’m going to do conventions. I’ve also got photos of people wearing Costumes. I’ll try to have those up for you later.
The best laid plans of mice and men go oft astray…
Not that this was a plan, best laid or not.
Early days of the comic strip, I thought I’d do a lot of cartoons like today’s. Every so often, Hubris and Kara would find themselves out late on a hilltop and either spell out the latest storyline for the sake of keeping everyone updated when necessary, or they’d say something clever or thought provoking or philosophical.
There were, I think, three or four of these cartoons in the later syndicate packages. (which became the early strips here on the website) And then I returned the kids to the hilltop once or twice more since then. I think the last time was just after the police officer scattered himself badly on Hubris’ longboard.
Why I haven’t returned them to the hilltop in a while is a mystery to me, but Hubris needed a little time for quiet reflection today, so there he goes. And thus ends another comic strip “day”, which might actually be a week, or not, and still takes weeks to tell anyhow.
“Time”, as Douglas Adams or Doctor Who (I can’t remember which) said, “is Bunk.”
You’ve been on ‘That’ trip, right? You check the weather, you figure the time of year, you juggle the odds… “Oh, I guess I don’t need to pack a rain jacket.” That ups your chances for rain, by, say, fifty percent.
Forget your tent? It will storm.
If you are smart, though, and bring a rain suit, a three season tent, tarps, rope, umbrellas and a marquee, it probably won’t rain. If you also bring a case of those little throwaway ponchos for everyone on your camping trip who DIDN’T pack rain gear? Area drought. Be careful- you don’t want the local river to dry up in case there’s kayaking that weekend.
Like the scouts, be prepared. Bring stuff so you won’t need it.
I don’t mean to throw this maudlin stuff at you, but I did jam a punchline about gritty wet bagels in there for you if you weren’t in the mood for philosophy today.
Here’s your second extra cartoon this week! Thanks again to everyone who dropped coin into the tip jar (that’s the ‘You & Hubris’ button in the column down the left hand side of the page). I’ll mail out thank-yous to those who have told me your snail-mail addresses. Everybody else, say “Thanks for the extra cartoons” to the folks who clicked and paypalled and all that stuff.
Today’s cartoon might confuse anyone who’s not familiar with rivers that provide Dam Releases for recreational purposes. The Gauley and The Ocoee are a couple that do this. The first time I went to the Ocoee, I assumed my chain was being yanked when told that the trickle of water in the riverbed would become a full-blown river “when they turned the water on in the morning”. Since then, I’ve sat at the put-in of the river with my kayak, and watched the Surge. It’s very nice.