I love camping. It makes normal life feel way easier. I gain a new appreciation for simple things like a dishwasher, oven, bed.
Sometimes we think of camping as being simpler. In many ways it really isn’t simpler, and it’s definitively not easier, especially when you have three small children. It’s a lot of work. Just trying to fit everything we would need for four nights into our little Saturn was an engineering feat. I decided for this last trip that I wasn’t going to fall into my old pattern of hyping up the trip and having a lot of expectations, then being irritated and disappointed when things didn’t go my way. I decided to set the bar very low. I told myself that we would have almost no fun, relaxation, or peace. I said, “This is simply a ridiculous experiment.”
I think this mental preparation was helpful for the success of the trip. I still had my breaking points, like when Levi just wouldn’t stop crying or when the boys were being particularly crabby. But all in all it was a great trip. The weather was perfect (there was a brief window). The scenery was beautiful. We were right on the lake, and we had this whole little peninsula to ourselves. Braden and Zac both swam in the lake for the first time (with life jackets). Heather thought it was too cold. It was. We pretended to be proboscis monkeys (those are the ones that swim and have funny noses). I loved watching my sons swimming, exploring, adventuring, and picking huckleberries and salmon berries.
So what is it that I love about camping? I mean, it isn’t easy, the packing is a pain, so what is it? I love the pace, the rhythm, the rituals. You can do nothing while you’re camping and you’re still doing something. You’re camping. You can sit around the campfire in the morning sipping coffee, read a book down by the lake, put out a fishing pole, lie out in the sun, swim, tell stories, walk, make dinner, cook things on sticks, not shower, stare at something beautiful. All of these normal activities are somehow infused with meaning. They are somehow special, sometimes even sacred. They are sweeter and they make the rest of life a bit sweeter. Roughing it makes me appreciate all those little conveniences and luxuries a bit more, helping me hold on to my sense of gratitude a little bit longer.
Article by Brad Tricola. Photo by Heather Tricola.
