Many years ago my roommates Butch and Don and myself decided to go camping. Don was in charge and we would be going to Maine a little south of Portland. We had to rent a tent because we had never been camping. Off we go with me driving my Road Runner with Butch and Don was riding up on his motorcycle. Don's motorcycle started to act up as we got closer to Portland. The camp site that Don had reserved turned out to be families only so we had to look for another site. We found a camp site and we drove in and started to unpack our gear. We had never set up a tent so we struggled in our attempt. Don even went down to the owner's shack to ask a question about the set up. The person there indicated our tent was super easy to set up. We continued to fail until a young boy came by and suggested that we first stake down the corners of the tent before trying to raise it up. Little did we know! Don decided to take my car with the motorcycle in the trunk back to Fitchburg. Butch went with him leaving me with the tent and a box of crackers. That night it got cold and it started to rain. That was when I found out that the rented tent was no longer water proof. There I sat as water dripped onto me and thinking this is the worst possible situation for Butch and Don were not coming back until the next day. I didn't even have a flash light. Around 9 o'clock I heard a voice calling my name. To this day I don't know how the following happened. My brother Bob started up to Maine and somehow found our camp site in the pouring rain. Was it luck or did Don see him and tell him where I was? I guess I should ask some day. Well, I went with my brother and we headed for my sister's home in Falmouth, Maine. My sister and family were on vacation so when Don and Butch got back we all stayed at her house for the week.
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