Camping

It's the time of year when people start talking about camping again. This means that it comes up in normal conversation with questions such as "So, do you guys like to go camping?"

The problem with my go-to answer for anything that isn't my favorite thing ever ("No, that's the worst thing ever") is that people generally want to know why it's the worst thing ever, or how many things can even fit into the worst thing ever category to begin with.

So I have to come up with more excuses.
"It stopped being fun when I was a teenager."
Why?
"Because . . . I'm a girl."
So?
"Um . . . I didn't like Girl's Camp."
Why not?
"(Don't get me started.) Uh . . . I didn't like waking up stiff and cold and wet and early."
 Well, then you were doing it wrong!
"Kevin doesn't like it either."
Why not?
"I don't know."

To be honest, there are plenty of reasons I haven't gone camping in years, the primary one being that I have no equipment. That combined with the general lack of clean bathrooms (I was once so terrified of port-a-potties that I did not use the bathroom for an entire overnight trip), smoky smell, mosquitoes, and the hard work it takes to make a campout happen has prevented it from happening.

But all this interrogation has made me realize the main reason I haven't enjoyed camping since I was a kid -- I haven't found a campground with an amphitheater. (Granted, I haven't looked, either.)

I mean, what good is a camping trip without an appearance from Thistle Woman? Or Cinderella? Forget the starry sky and roasted marshmallows -- it was the amphitheater at the Guinavah campground in Logan Canyon that kept us coming back year after year.

When we weren't going on hikes or preparing meals, my sisters and I would spend the days planning plays at the amphitheater. It had a stage that was just perfect for dancing or doing comedy sketches, and we would rehearse until it was time to show off to our parents. They would dutifully watch, even my dad, probably because he had forgotten to bring his book along.

The best skit we did was Thistle Woman. Leslie was the writer, director, and star. She called herself Thistle Woman because she would dot her shirt with thistles. I guess these thistles made her good at solving crimes, because that's what she did for her job. Kaylie and I would be her trusty sidekicks, although I don't think she ever let us actually help save the day from the imaginary villains. They had to be imaginary of course, because someone's feelings might have gotten hurt if they had to be the bad guy. But this meant that watching a panicky Leslie yelling "Avenge me!" while she was dragged off the stage by imaginary villains was a bit underwhelming and bizarre.

After her clever escape (hey, maybe Kaylie and I helped with that after all), Jennie and Kiana would get up on the stage and sing Veggie Tales songs and the ABCs. And then maybe Spencer would crawl across the stage for good measure. And then it was time for dinner.

To me, camping is synonymous with awesome skits, and perhaps I'm afraid to spoil the magic by going camping and knowing for sure that it's instead synonymous with not sleeping well. Nor do I think that going to a campground with an amphitheater would fix things -- the skits would be ironic and nostalgic instead of real.

But maybe when we have kids that are old enough to enjoy an amphitheater, we can go camping again. I imagine the world will need the skills of Thistle Woman again by then.