Growing up in them thar' hills, we camped, rustically and primitively. We didn't bring much. It was bliss~ frequent, habitual, and filled the summer with countless memories. The cooking was done outside. Food was substantial, but plain. Mom, did we have such a thing as a cooler back then?
Tess was two weeks old the first time she went camping. We invited her, welcomed her into the tradition when she was born. When Brita came along we did the same for her.
Craig hadn't grown up camping like I had, so we followed my family's way of simple and rustic. We left the primitive out, because the only places we could camp were campgrounds. This felt a little 'anthill' to me, but getting out was a pleasure. Running water was nice. :)
We camped with groups of friends who brought everything but the kitchen sink and a stunning array of entertainment, food, cooking gear, outdoor gear, etc.
We went through three tents by the time the girls were in their teens. By that time, they were doing camp outs with friends in a group setting. Sleeping on the ground became unbearable for a time for me, because of pain.
Camping became extinct after we threw out our last tent. We became hotel/cabin campers.
Three years ago some friends with a motorcycle asked us to go camping. Our motorcycles looked like pack mules heading to the Yukon for the gold rush. Arkansas or Bust should have been hanging from the back. We were able to take very little. Think back packing. It was a blast. We felt young and free.
Until we woke up the next morning. On sale floaties are vacuum packed. Small addition. Two uses. Float in the lake. Sleep on it.
No matter how we tried, we kept sliding off the thing until morning when it had deflated. I was cranky because Craig spent most the night steer wrestling with his pillow, the floatie, and the blankets. From the outside, the rumblings going on inside must have looked like we had all night sexual stamina. The thrashing to get comfortable in our little pup tent might have earned some snickers from our neighbors? Getting dressed was a challenge. The tent almost collapsed at the strain, along with me.
We are going on our third annual motorcycle camping trip the end of the month. Someone loaned us a trailer. A new hitch is behind the bike. We will NOT have pans dangling and a lawn chair tied to the sissy bar. We will look less like hillbillies, and miss the amused looks of those passing by.
We bought a bigger tent this week and will try it out camping with some friends this week by the river. Things aren't as tight financially as when the girls were small. We splurged on some gear, as we have a pick up that it will fit in. It has a five star feel. Uptown.
We both decided we didn't want to be done camping. Yes, it is some trouble. It can be messy; but oh ~ the stars at night. The sound of water close by. The brisk shivering air when you crawl out of the warm cocoon to unzip the day ~ I'm not ready to be done with making these memories. Yet.
Outdoor cooking makes me wriggle with delight. Camp coffee makes me almost swoon with contentment. Poking the fire is free therapy.
If the tent is rocking, don't come knocking ~ we have upgraded our air mattress. Being new and all, we might try to manage a christening of some sort.
When you get tired and weary from learning about God, stop everything and go be with God. He's a camper, I'm sure of it.