Even though I’ve been camping since the age of naught (or something close to that), when the going gets rough, I’d like to go home, draw a bath and watch a movie with wine poured in an actual wine glass, not a mug that’s sturdy enough to sit on gravel.
I enjoy those little luxuries of life, but I also enjoy the fact that my family and I have gone camping every year since I can’t remember.
It’s a tradition. And it’s fun, she tells herself. It’s really, really fun! she continues telling herself.
It is. It’s kind of freeing going without makeup, electricity, bathtubs, beds that aren’t on the ground, and letting your hair smell like campfire and being totally okay with it.
Everything is pretty fun, except for that first night when I have a hard time falling asleep without thinking of all the ways I could be murdered. Because, really, what’s stopping a madperson (not being gender specific here, could be a madlady as much as it could be a madman) from opening a tent door and killing me in my sleep? There is nothing stopping them. I’m sleeping in a tent. I’m sleeping behind a fabric wall of nothingness.
And then the cold rolls in because your family decided to camp the first week of September when lots of sites would be open since everyone’s gone back to school. And as hot as it is in the daytime, the nights are starting to move toward an autumnal temperament. Which means that three blankets, fleece-lined leggings, pajama pants, fuzzy socks, a tank, t-shirt and sweatshirt are not enough.
Then it rains.
And you tell yourself, This is fun! These are memories! Ignore the chill that has gotten inside your bones! It’s … was that rain that just got down my sleeve as I hold up a new tarp because the last one proved to be leaking? And, yup, these breathable sneakers aren’t waterproof. Did a stream of water just go down my back? This sucks.
But sometimes it gets better and I get to read a couple books in a sweater and jeans on the windy beach, which is how I like to enjoy a beach because the sun and I are not friends.
So really, maybe camping isn’t too bad.
She tells herself.