Camping: The Noble Surrender

 In a few short hours, my husband, two of our kids, and one of our kids' friends will be embarking on one of our many camping adventures. I spent a lot of time in the outdoors with my parents growing up, but the cool part was...we got to come home. We never camped. I guess one could consider our many hours spent in the wooded mountain areas "day camps." It just wasn't something my family did. We didn't have the equipment, nor (I think) the desire. My mom was scared of wild animals roaming about--this became quite evident one time when my Aunt Elsie was working with us for the day--we had gone into the foresty hills in her car, but when it was time to head home--lo and behold--the battery was dead. We ended up stranded for the night, with no blankets or pillows, surrounded by the sounds of all manner of wildlife. We had a bit of fun at my mom's expense regarding the possibility of bears lurking about. And we made the best of it--but a comfy night it was not. 

Shortly after my husband and I were married, we had gone to visit some friends who were camping at Loon Lake--it got late, and we were tired, so we decided to sleep in our car. I'm not sure much sleep was had, but I do remember being disgusted at the discomfort of it all. Impromptu camping--not recommended.

My first actual camping experience was when Byron and I went with friends to camp at Three Sisters. I wasn't feeling particularly well before we left and wasn't even sure we should go, but I decided to try and tough it out. I swear Byron found the rockiest spot on the planet over which to pitch our tent. Not to mention the fact that this "two-man" tent was clearly not made for two adults. And as the night wore on, I became sicker. My whole head was clogged, my throat ached--I was miserable. We ended up coming home a day early because I felt so awful.

Those early adventures, needless to say, didn't do much for my perspective on camping. But I have learned that in order to have fun while camping, one must keep busy doing relaxing things (I know it sounds like an oxymoron) and make sure to bring a spirit of adventure. For me, camping remains a bit of a sacrificial activity, but there are far less pleasant ones to be sure. I am thankful for friends and family to share the experience with--I remind myself that in spite of the perceived hardships involved, I am making valuable memories--and that's a worthy pursuit.

Camping: The Noble Surrender

The Rubbermaid tubs are all packed

With various camping supplies.

The pile on our living room floor

Is a sight for weary eyes.

But one must regain energy--

Adventure beckons still.

So I guzzle my last cup of coffee

And summon my outdoorsy will.

Once loaded, we slowly start out—

Has anything been left behind?

Our list is rechecked—we take comfort,

And I try to forget what’s behind:

The safe place I like to call home

With its warm bed and toilets that flush.

But still I must strive to be thankful

For pit toilets, flat ground, and brush.

When once we arrive at our campsite,

To my forest-filled eyes doth appear

The absence of showers and water

That threatens to steal my camp cheer.

I feel a bit like Sophocles, who said,

With such insight and creed,

“There is no success without hardship.”
Well…I must be successful indeed.

So we set up our camp with some semblance

Of civilized home-reminiscence.

I resign to make this “home for now,”

No matter how fervent my wish-ance.

I start counting blessings post-haste

To help counteract my mind’s query--

The beauty of nature, and s’mores…

And the fact that it’s just temporary.

And so starts a brave new adventure,

With wildlife to witness the tale.

Armed with insect repellant and flashlight,

I’ve got what it takes to not fail.

I’ll master the Great Outdoors

‘Til next I am pulled by its “splendor,”

Forsaking all modern convenience--

A truly most noble surrender.

© 2011, Teresa L. Kephart