Not a happy camper

This last weekend I went on an overnight camp-out with my son’s scout troop. I have come to the conclusion that I am not a true camper. I don’t care much for camping for the sake of camping. I love being out in nature, but there’s nothing particularly ennobling, in my opinion, about sleeping there. It’s perfectly okay to enjoy nature, and then go home.

Certainly there are aspects of camping that develop important skills. I think it’s a good idea to know how to “rough it”, to learn to set your expectations lower for a while. It makes it easier to bear the little inconveniences of life, like the water going out for a day. It’s good to know how to use your gear in case you need to.

I suspect, however, that it’s really just group camping I object to. And perhaps cold-weather camping. We got up to the camp site and spent the first few hours setting up. There was no formal intinerary, no communication as to what we were doing and when. Just “everyone fend for yourself”. We’d been told to come prepared to make tin-foil dinners, and so we did. But everyone else had brought a lot of other things, too, like hot dogs and marshmallows. So by the time the fire had burned down to the right level for making tin-foil dinners the majority of the group had already eaten their fill. Only a few actually made tin-foil dinners. My son and I had to watch everyone else eat while we waited. Not particularly fun.

After that the kids all went to play “capture the flag” in the dark, while we adults sat around the fire and talked. But I’m not a sports of fitness enthusiast. I mostly sat and listened, as the things they wanted to talk about were not something to which I had much to contribute. I was somewhat relieved when my son got frustrated with the game and was ready to go to bed. However, sleeping is not something I do well outdoors. Even with the recent purchase of better a pad I have a hard time getting comfortable. I can only lay in one position for so long before I have to roll over. And rolling over in a sleeping bag is not an easy task.

And it was cold. I think our tent–made for six–is too big for just two. It looses heat faster than our two bodies can generate it. Our sleeping bags were up to the challenge. I wasn’t cold over-all, just my face. I wore a ski cap to bed, but unless I was able to find a comfortable position that allowed me to sink deeper into my bag, my face would stick out and get cold, and the temperature differential was difficult to ignore. I woke up often. I shifted position often. Even my son, who can sleep through anything, had difficulty sleeping.

Four days later I’m still nursing stiff muscles. I’ve certainly slept better while camping. Pretty much every other time, actually.

In the morning it was my turn to feel (slightly) sorry for the other campers. My son and I, being the only vegans, brought our own food and the means to cook it, so we could start eating as soon as the first pancakes came off the grill. Everyone else had to wait for the two cooks to first fry up several pounds of bacon, and then cook pancakes two at a time. (We cooked one at a time, but there were only two of us.) We were done before most were able to get started. And about as soon as breakfast was finished we all packed up and went home.

With the exception of the view and the game of capture the flag, this is not something we couldn’t have done just as well in my back yard. We were out in nature, but we never really took the chance to interact with it. Other than “bring more wood next time” or “watch out for burrs”, I’m not sure any of the scouts learned anything about camping or nature.

When I contrast this experience with the last scout campout I went on, or our last family campout, I realize that it’s not camping I mind so much as camping with no purpose–or at least for no other purpose than “the scouts need X number of campouts to qualify for Y.” The previous campout had included a program, and around the campfire that night we had a great deal of leader-scout interaction. On our family campout we took time to relax around the camp, go on walks, and explore the area a little. This seemed more like “let’s go eat sub-standard food and make ourselves uncomfortable for no apparent reason.”

I don’t mean to complain. Okay, yes I do, otherwise I won’t have a post for today. I do think I need to be better prepared for the next campout, though. I need to be a bit more proactive and be prepared to go do something while I’m there. It was a pretty canyon, awash with autumn splendor, and I saw very little of it. I spent most of the waking hours within twenty feet of the fire pit and the rest of it tossing and turning in a tent. Camping is supposed to be fun! I’ve seen that it can be.

But clearly, fun seldom happens by accident. Next time I’ll try to be prepared to bring the fun with me.