So, there is this running joke with Ryan, his line of employment, and the summertime.
This picture of me? This lovely, wonderful, model-like photographic genius right here? That was a text I sent him. It said, "Hey Officer. Do you know where Sanders Creek is?"
Except, it's not Sanders Creek. It goes by a different name, and is one of many campgrounds up here. Apparently, he gets asked that question A LOT.
I was talking to him on his cell for some reason. We don't usually talk while he's at work, but it must have been important because we happened to be on the phone with each other when I hear him say, "Hold on."
This is Labor Day weekend. At a lake in the mountains.
I hear a male voice say, "Hey, is there a place to camp around here?"
My mind was doing this: Sooooo..... you pack up some camping gear, drive up here, and don't know where to stay? Who does that? I always have a plan. And I would NEVER stop to talk to a cop. I just wouldn't. I am totally law abiding and everything, but still the last person I would ask for camping advice would be the fuzz.
Ryan was very patient, directing the man to several campgrounds.
Turns out, lots of people come up here to camp, and don't know where they are going. It is not uncommon for one to find the fuzz and say something like, "Hey, I'm supposed to meet my family at the lake. Where is it?" (Hello, big body of water completely encircled by the highways, with about 50 different places to camp along the way.)
Glad summer season is over. This summer saw a lot of motorcycle accidents, and several deaths from them.