Take it from me, and just say no thanks

To tent-camping in Frisco on the dune-strewn Outer Banks

Where the wind always blows

And chills exposed toes.

Ditto for feet, knees and shanks.


Camp showers are frigid.

I get goose bumps so rigid

I nick each one shaving my legs.

Campsites have no water or power.

Forget happy hour.

No booze, says the park ranger’s regs.


The campground, it’s true, has a nice ocean view,

But so does the Hilton in Honolulu,

Where the showers are always blissfully warm,

And it’s safe and dry in a thunderstorm.


But the storms I will take

And hot showers forsake.

I embrace them all

For keeping crowds small

At this corner of the cape

Where I make my escape.