Captain Kirk took his loyal Enterprise crew on a camping trip – sadly, the whole recreational exercise failed miserably. We obtained an exclusive excerpt from his Captain’s Log. Prepare yourselves. It’s definitely not a pretty read. It’s puzzling Jim Kirk would even log this absolute catastrophe.
Captain’s Camping Log – StarDate: Who The Hell Cares At This Point
Blazing out into the great wild, soaking up the relaxation of the outdoors seduces one as to be therapeutic. It’s reported to be healing to those of us who are constantly cooped up in artificial environments. If only….
This long suffering, never ending, miserable weekend proved to be anything except stress reducing. Ill conceived from the start – perhaps stemming from my overpowering need to intimately bond with my Enterprise extended family a bit too aggressively – I still can’t believe we all survived this hellish ordeal.
Next time, give me five Kobayashi Marus compared to this stinking Klingon dumpster fire.
Close to sweet salvation, as we lumbered near to the end of it all, the only thing echoing through my fevered brain was……
Scotty, beam us all the hell out of here.

Camping Cliques
Despite the time tested Starfleet ranking which pervades our Enterprise structure, it’s a very human phenomenon to break up into groups or even cliques once a more relaxed environment is assumed. I felt this was not only natural, but healthy, and would even lead to spontaneous fun.
Little did I know it would become cause of the major conflicts. Kirk, you screwed up big time.
Sulu and Chekov started bickering. It took Uhura and Scotty to calm them down. I swear, those two could bring bad feelings to a convention of mind melded Vulcan monks during a Kolinahr retreat. They used to be such good buddies during the early years. I wonder if Bones would object to me bringing a counselor onto Enterprise? I’ve more than considered it watching Sulu and Chekov bring new meaning to extreme animosity.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Scotty and Uhura started in with each other. Uhura complained about Scotty bringing home made Haggis to our community potluck. Even Spock said it made Klingon gagh look delicious by comparison. Finally, everyone – including yours truly – turned on my first officer when the Vulcan Science Officer in him couldn’t help from running every edible through tricorder spectroscopy. His detailed scanning took forever, until we were all so hungry and dry, even Starfleet emergency rations looked edible.
Recall my cautionary tale. Here now is Captain James T. Kirk’s friendly warning to future starship captains contemplating taking their ship’s crews on recreational excursions to primitive landscapes: Friend, you’re more batshit crazy than an Andorian mind killer if you even think to attempt it. Take them all to a hologram park – it’ll be a lot less risky.
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