I went camping last weekend for the the first time ever.
With the exception of those two summers I spent as a camp counselor, I had never been camping before. You might be thinking, “Who doesn’t go camping? Everyone goes camping.” Well, until recently, I was one of those people who just didn’t go camping. Why? Because I like taking showers. And using actual toilets as opposed to a port-a-potty or a bush. I also like sleeping in my ridiculously comfortable, queen-size, IKEA bed rather than outside on a ground made of dirt.
It wasn’t until I compiled my Life List last year when I decided that camping, like real camping, was something I wanted to try. So I did, and you know what? I kind of liked it.
I went with my roommate, her mom, and my roommate’s friend, all of who are camping veterans so they made my first camping experience quite easy and enjoyable. I didn’t have to pitch the tent, build the fire, or provide the food. Essentially, all I did was show up. Oh, I did make my own s’more. I guess that accounts for something.
And as for the whole “being one with nature” thing, that was pretty nice too. I was only at the campsite for one night, but it was still nice to detach myself from a phone, laptop, and all of the other materialistic distractions one tends to get wrapped up in. I can honestly say I enjoyed the peace and solitude… but only for one night though. Anymore than that and I probably would have started to get antsy from not being able to check my Facebook or text messages.
So camping? It’s all good in my book, and I would definitely do it again. And by “do it again,” I mean “have it done for me.” And only for one night. Maybe two. But let’s not push it.