Answering the Call of the Wild

After years of silent struggle, I am finally coming out of the closet as a lesbian . . . who HATES camping. Yet, for the past three years, I’ve hauled a tent, air mattress, sleeping bag and two gallons of rum deep into the woods to hang with 3,500 of my closest friends.

Why in the world would she do this, you ask? Weren’t the 40 degree, rain-soaked, “summer” vacations to the Rainier National Forest as a kid enough punishment for one lifetime? Sure they were. But those trips didn’t include a contest where 350 pound women let strangers stick puffed orange cheeseballs under their breasts for sport! If they had, I might still be straight. They also didn’t include open air public showers (even Mother Nature needs somewhere to scrub her beaver), home-cooked vegetarian meals (do gray eggs come from gray hens?) or clothing-optional, vagina-rific, koombayah tambourine medleys around a fire pit.

There’s only one place that holds that type of camping allure: The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival.

For one week every summer, women of all shapes, sizes and musical abilities gather on “The Land” to celebrate, ovulate and inebriate as one. And you don’t even have to be a lesbian to get in (you can convert once you get there). Just buy a ticket, pack your loincloth, and head north next August. Oh, and if you have a penis that’s not detachable, be sure to make a side trip to Thailand and have that lopped off first.

Once you get to MichFest, look me up. I’ll be the one who skipped a kitchen work shift to attend the “Anal Sex 101 – Backdoor Basics” workshop. Heck, if learning about the pleasures of vibrators, dildos, butt plugs and ass beads can’t make camping fun, what can?

Shelly