Few things test the bonds of kinship quite like the group project disguised as family fun: a "long weekend" spent turning your sister's remote, tick-infested wilderness into something resembling civilization. Behold the dream! Eighty acres of uncharted mosquito sanctuary, accessible only by a rickety bridge with the structural integrity of a bad promise—so far out, the power company had to consult a map from the last century just to run a line.
While most people use Memorial Day to grill, nap, and perfect the art of pretending to care about yard games, your family's idea of leisure involves marking trees, hacking trails, and clearing brush that hasn't seen a human since the Eisenhower administration. Sure, your sister sweetened the deal with the promise of grilled meat, chilled watermelon, and a freshly cleaned creek. Translation: "Bring sunscreen, and don't ask what's lurking in that water."
Having already put in your time with pre-season trail hikes, animal tracking, and the noble act of puzzling out property markers, you now find yourself comfortably absent—and just a little guilt-ridden—as your relatives sprint between the barbecue and the mosquito clouds. Instagram lights up with smiling cousins in the creek and sunburned aunts waving around loppers, and you wonder if you're missing out or just dodging a weekend of involuntary CrossFit.
The image does not depict the actual subjects of the story. Subjects are models.
