What Could Go Wrong? A Campground Story (Spoiler: It Did)

By Captain Weeble

When I ended last week’s blog, I was firmly in oh boy, this could go sideways fast mode… mostly because of the sudden arrival of about 60 high school students.

We found out from one of the chaperones that the kids had gone on a hike. Not just any hike—Old Rag Mountain. For those who haven’t had the pleasure, Old Rag is a light little stroll… if your idea of “light” is a 9.4-mile loop with rock scrambles and a solid 6–8 hours of effort.

Bill and I did Old Rag many years ago. It was a great hike… and I can confidently say I would not be signing up for it today unless there was a helicopter involved.

So, naturally, I figured these kids would come back absolutely wiped out.

They did come back tired… just not that tired.

Apparently, teenagers run on some kind of experimental nuclear battery I no longer have access to.

One of the chaperones showed up with a mountain of pizzas—turns out one of their alumni owns a pizza shop over in Front Royal. Now, I’m not saying Mrs. Weeble and I were expecting an invitation… but we were absolutely prepared to accept one for the sake of campground diplomacy.

Unfortunately, I forgot a key detail: 60 teenagers can consume pizza at a rate that defies physics. There was nothing left but crumbs and broken dreams.

A Peaceful Surprise

As the sun went down, they gathered at the campsite across from us. You could hear them talking, but honestly, they weren’t raising nearly the kind of chaos I had mentally prepared for.

Then, at exactly 10:00 PM—quiet time—they broke it up and went to their tents.

Just like that.

I sat there for a minute thinking, Wait… that’s it?

The campground turned peaceful. My stress level dropped about 90%.

The next morning, they were up, organized, eating breakfast, and—again—completely respectful. I’ve got to give them credit. They were a great group of young adults.

Now… they did manage to drive Buster slightly insane.

They were playing

ball not too far from our campsite, and every time that ball got a little closer, Buster’s tail started spinning like a helicopter rotor.

At one point, the ball got really close, so we warned them:

“Hey, if Buster gets that ball, it’s not coming back.”

Without missing a beat, one of the boys says, “That’s okay—I’ve got more. Here, he can have this one.”

And just like that, Buster achieved peak happiness.

As they broke camp, they kept coming by asking to pet the dogs. I can safely say our dogs were the happiest animals in the entire campground that morning.

They also cleaned up their area incredibly well. Mrs. Weeble and I were so impressed that we’re planning to send the school a note letting them know how well their students represented them.

Round Two: Enter the Cub Scouts

Later that afternoon, we took a drive along Skyline Drive, doing all the classic tourist stops and taking in the views.

We came back expecting another quiet evening.

That lasted about five minutes.

Because then the Cub Scouts arrived.

About 30 of them, ages roughly 7 to 10.

They made a little noise setting up camp—but honestly, what would you expect?

We fixed our dinner while watching them organize theirs. The scoutmaster got them lined up, fed, and settled down like a pro.

Meanwhile, Buster’s tail was once again operating at approximately 900 miles per hour.

And once again… the kids were great.

By around 8:00 PM, things were quiet. The campground settled down beautifully.

The Weeblemobile: The Good and The Tight

We’ve been really happy with the Weeblemobile, but like any RV, there are a couple of things we wish were a little better.

Mrs. Weeble’s main complaint: storage.

Every time we try to put something away, it turns into a game of RV Tetris.

We’ll get it figured out—it’s going to be a trial-and-error process.

Now my complaint?

The black and gray tank nozzle is way too short.

The Incident

If you own an RV long enough, you will have a moment that officially “initiates” you into RV life.

I have now been initiated.

Dumping tanks is one of those things everyone warns you about… and I thought I had it under control.

The cap on the pipe is so tight I have to use a screwdriver to get it off—and because of where it’s positioned, I have to get on the ground to do it.

Not ideal.

I finally get the cap off, grab the “stinky slinky,” and hook it up by feel. I twist it with everything I’ve got.

It felt like it clicked.

This is important.

It felt like it clicked.

I set everything up properly—rock on the hose, foot holding it in place—and pulled the valve.

And immediately…

The stinky slinky popped off.

What followed can only be described as a high-velocity, full-pressure, absolutely regrettable event.

I lunged to shut the valve—but at that point, it was mostly symbolic.

The damage had been done.

Thankfully, the dump station had a hose, and I managed to clean things up.

Then came the final step—putting the cap back on.

Which required getting back on the ground.

In the aftermath.

At that point, I just accepted my fate, got it done, and made a direct beeline for the shower.

And honestly?

I didn’t even mind that the hot water heater was off.

To be continued…

If you’ve had your own RV initiation moment, feel free to share it in the comments—we can all learn from each other.