The Halfway Camping Trip

It's always a surprise when people read my blog. After my camping post a few weeks ago, I discovered that I had accidentally shot my social life in the foot.

"I'm sorry I ever brought camping up," a couple of friends said. "Now we know to never invite you to go camping."

That's what we wanted, right? Since we hate camping.

Except, I guess we don't. "I thought you were the one who hated camping!" Kevin and I said to each other. "I wrote that for your sake!" I told Kevin, who assured me that he really didn't mind it other than the planning and the sleeping on the ground. But now I felt bad that he was going to suffer for my hyperbole (unless, of course, it prevented him from ever having a Scouting calling).

So when an invitation came to go camping, we decided we needed to repent of our camping-hating ways and at least give it a try. Granted, we couldn't spend the night because of events the next morning, but at least we could prove that we could survive a few hours in nature.

As we drove up, fate threw everything at us to remind us of everything we hate about camping -- inexplicable stop-and-go traffic, rain, and trouble finding the spot. (I don't think I've ever made so many "We're lost!" phone calls in a row in my life.) Finally, an hour after we expected to get there, we pulled into the campground.

And then . . . it was camping! Food over a fire, little boys running off into beautiful woods, the occasional mosquitoes, and the occasional bit of rain to keep our chips moist and the air clear. It was fun! Really! I almost wished we owned a tent so we could set one up.

With flash

Without flash. Totally different!

At about 9 o' clock, it suddenly became a lot brighter outside.

But we don't own a tent, so when it got dark we headed home. The drive was much faster this time, and I think we were both looking forward to sleeping in a well-insulated house on a soft, comfortable mattress.

Of course, fate has a way of reminding you of what you are missing out on by replicating it as much as possible. It took Kevin as long to fall asleep as it would have in a sleeping bag or on an air mattress. I had washed my hair to get the smoke smell out, but that meant I slept in the damp just as much as I would have in a tent. And, opposite of Kevin (who slept like a rock once he finally fell asleep), I had trouble sleeping, in part because Kevin talked in his sleep for the second time in our marriage.

"You know what's funny? We are all lying on bike locks. I have a bike lock, the doctor has a bike lock, and . . . another doctor has a bike lock. Haha."

Come to think of it, I don't know how comfortable he really was on the mattress if it felt like he was lying on a bike lock. Maybe we would have been better off in a tent.

The next morning, Kevin went off to help a family move, and an hour later I woke up to help (and by help I mean eat the breakfast they had provided for those who helped them move [I suppose I was helping them get rid of food by doing that]). Although I had figured that my camping experiences were done by then, I realized that I was still getting to enjoy eating breakfast outside same as if I had gone camping. And then I kept an eye on kids who ran into the nearby woods, which also probably would have happened if I had still been camping. When we went back home, I discovered that if we were inside at all, Joseph spent most of his time screaming because he was sleep-deprived and Daddy-deprived, so we stayed outside, eventually riding the bike to the church to find Kevin. (People take their bikes on camping trips, right? So this still counts as camping, right? Or maybe I just wanted to talk about our morning.)

And . . . I guess that was our camping trip, give or take a few hours here and there. I suppose camping isn't so bad after all.