Friday morning, my daughter-in-law texted: Random ask, would you and John like to go camping with us this weekend?
The last time I went camping was at church retreat, probably around 2008 or 2009, but that wasn’t really camping since all our meals were prepared — we were just sleeping in a tent at retreat. And before that, my family went camping at Dolly Sods.
When I was a teenager.
Once.
In other words, camping isn’t in my comfort zone. It’s not even really comfort-zone adjacent, either.
But I said yes almost immediately because here’s the thing(s):
1) When young adult children ask you out, you go (in the middle years, a big part of parenting involves making the switch from leader to follower).
2) All the cool kids camp and I wanna be cool.
3) Doing uncomfortable things makes me feel good.
4) It sounded like fun!
The kids borrowed a 2-person tent from a friend of theirs and loaned us one of their sleeping mats. We split meal responsibilities — they took supper and we took breakfast — and I baked a batch of granola bars and filled baggies with green peppers, dried mangos, almonds, coffee, and granola. My husband printed out a camping list and checked off all the (relevant) things.
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I had no idea how it would go. I wasn’t sure where we were headed or how far we’d have to walk, but it turned out to be a low-key, easy sort of camping trip. The walk to the campsite was super short, and the creek we had to ford several times was low.
We set up camp, went on a short hike to the middle of some stinging nettles (oops), took a dip in the creek, played Rook, roasted hot dogs, visited, and went to bed when the sun went down. (Almost as soon as we got there, I became weirdly nauseated. After I napped, belched a bunch of times, and started to feel better, we figured out that my nausea was probably due to blowing up the mattress pad.)
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My husband and I slept only moderately terribly, and the next morning I labored far too long over a few cups of disappointingly weak coffee, though no one pitched a fit. Probably because we were too tired to much care.
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And then it started raining, so we packed up our stuff and moseyed back to the van.
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photo credit: my daughter-in-law
The rain let up as we neared town, and when we passed the pickleball courts, they were empty!
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They’re almost never empty, so we decided to jump on it: we quick swung by their house to pick up rackets and use the bathroom before heading back to the courts for several games, the last of which my husband and I (finally!) won.
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Back home, my husband and I unpacked, showered, rehydrated, ate big plates of groundnut stew (vegetables!) and chicken, and then curled up on the sofa with our laptops to research camping supplies.
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You know, for when we go on our next venture….
This same time, years previous: a fantastic week, fried, the end, damn good blackberry pie.
2 Comments
Thrift at Home
Oh, I am impressed! I did that kind of camping once or twice before my babies were born and then I told my husband I am not sleeping on the ground (or a floor) again if possible. So now we go camping in cabins at a campground with mattresses! and walk to a toilet and cook over a fire, hahahahah
suburbancorrespondent
Kudos to you – backwoods camping is a whole other ball of wax I do not care to explore. I really like toilets.
One of those bumpy sleep mats works really well – it will take your sleep from “moderately terrible” to “almost okay.” Hammocks are also awesome – some come with rain flies, so you stay dry even in wet weather