Camp Humor

I had a thought the other day that was brought about by the children begging me to go camping. Most people who know me are familiar with my hatred of all things camping. This stems from my deep and abiding love of my bed and indoor plumbing, to say nothing of the worship I have for the internet and the magic box I like to think of as the microwave.

In any case, the weather is getting nicer, and the children know that summer is soon upon us, and they are already dreaming of their vacation. They believe that camping is a great adventure everyone should be thrilled to embark upon. Unfortunately, the Man also believes this vicious lie, as does everyone in my close proximity. My parents believe it so much they bought a rolling can designed for such a purpose.

The thought that occurred to me, though, is that we live in the country, essentially in the woods, and have absolutely no need whatsoever to physically go anywhere should we lose all control of our senses and actually decide to do this. We have acres upon acres of land that we personally own, all wooded and private and bug infested, right here at our disposal with no need to share. Why should we pay someone to let us pitch a tent in their bug infested woods when we can do it for free in our own? I'm truly baffled. People actually pay other people for such an honor when they can do it for free.

Here's the thing. I went to my favorite place (Wal-Mart, of course) and they have this giant section of the store dedicated to making camping more appealing. So there are air mattresses, campfire stoves, portable showers, coffeepots that run on tiny little propane tanks, wind up lanterns that are probably more eco-friendly than the lanterns from my youth that actually worked and could burn a person who was foolish enough to touch them, tents that fit in a backpack, toilet paper that is biodegradable (I sort of thought all toilet paper was biodegradable, but clearly the normal stuff isn't if they have to sell campers a special kind), and the list goes on forever.

So, here's another thought I had. If you can literally buy all the comforts of home and haul them with you to go camping, why would you bother to leave the comfortable home you've already bought all that stuff for? Not only that, but my parents' camper is pretty tricked out, and actually has a bed that, while isn't as comfortable as mine, isn't exactly the same as sleeping on the ground or a rubber air mattress, either, and a microwave, refrigerator, full bathroom, tv, running water, furnace, air conditioning, etc.

Why would you leave the stationary house to haul around all the crap you just bought for a rolling house? The rolling house has essentially the same comforts, only on a smaller scale, and the camping gear is mostly green with Coleman painted on it in red letters whereas the stationary houses' things are all different colors. Which is another thought: why would campers want their gear to be green? Wouldn't you be more likely to lose your green stuff in the green woods? I'd think having your lantern and folding chair slash dining table slash spare tire painted bright orange would not only make them more visible when you get drunk (because really, what else is there to do?) but also would prevent the hunters from shooting you. These people seem to love the gear that serves multiple purposes, you'd think someone would have thought of this already.

Another camping thought I had is this: the only people I know who actually enjoy going camping are the people who already live in the woods, or very close to them. I don't know anyone who lives in the city or suburbs who voluntarily leaves civilization for a week or two and decides to become bear bait. Sure, people visit Yellowstone and national parks and monuments and camp. But this is not the kind of camping I'm talking about.

I'm talking about camping where no man has gone before. Well, ok, people have and do camp there, but they aren't actually campgrounds with wi-fi and showers and planned activities where a trained expert takes you white water rafting or on a scenic hike for three sedate miles, they are forests where some enterprising soul decided to maybe put a few lots in and charge people to stay overnight or simple ponds that locals know about where there's nothing but trees and animals and you're not getting within a mile of the place by car, and that last mile is a hike straight uphill on a rocky cliff. I know I'm a country girl at heart, so it isn't that I just yearn for city living and can't understand the beauty and call of nature. I do understand the beauty and call of nature, but I understand it from my backyard, where I am fully surrounded by it.

Perhaps I am a cheapskate, and truly don't get the thrill of paying for something you already own. I do know that for me a vacation translates to a departure from your normal life. My normal life includes cooking for and cleaning up after my family in my house that is in the country. So when I'm on vacation, I want to be cooked for and cleaned up after in a busier, more bustling location with more active things to do. I like to visit cities and stay in hotels. I can not fathom how it could be considered relaxing to have to continue to cook for and clean up after a family, but to have to do those things without a microwave or running water or can opener, or a fridge to keep my beer cold, and to have had to haul all the things I did need miles into the woods before I could start to relax.

In the end, we'll probably end up compromising and going camping because I want my children to see why it is such a horrible thing, and I'll tell them not to come crying to me when they eaten by a bear, but taking my parents' camper and enough gear to not really miss being home too much. I won't get the appeal, but it will be one of those things you do for love. We'll search out a camping locale that does have wi-fi and maybe a couple of guided tours, and I'll send the people who live with me off on one of them while I plan my next vacation that includes room service and ward off killer mosquitoes that belong to a different zip code.