A Camping We Will Go
by Matthew Pardue

A friend of mine recently reminded me that it's been over a year since we last went camping and suggested that we plan another trip soon.  Ironically, this comment was followed by a complaint about how cold the apartment was.  It didn't occur to either of us until later that maybe we should wait a month or two until the temperatures are no longer below freezing at night. This may not seem like a profound realization, but I was proud of it, considering that we almost never have any foresight for these outings. 

For example, the last time I went camping the night ended with everyone huddling in their cars because no one had brought any heavy clothing or firewood and it was too wet to go find any deadwood.  As an added bonus, no one brought any matches either.  Yes, I too am amazed that we've made it this far in life. 

I like camping, but I'm not as hard-core about it has some of the people I know.  This has caused some embarrassment in the past, mainly because my father is the kind of guy who could be stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a set of clothes and not only survive but have a profitable hunting lodge up and running in three months.  Of course, I also know people at the other end of the spectrum who go camping in RVs.  That's a strange concept for me.  I understand the idea of mixing nature with civilization, but at a point it becomes too much.  You could accomplish the same thing by spending the day at the park, cooking some marshmallows, and going home. 

Then again, camping itself is weird.  Humanity started out living in the wild and clawed its way up the food chain with the ultimate goal of air conditioning and satellite TV, but some of us feel the need to go back.  Maybe we want to appreciate the comforts of modern life a little more, or just see something new.  There're also the people who live in the really big cities who go into the woods to "get away from it all."  Unless you have an RV, that usually constitutes trying to start a fire, trying to put the fire out before you burn down a few hundred acres of wilderness and get bashed in the face by Smokey, attempting to put up a tent, being rained on when you can't get the tent poles to line up right, hoping that you won't be eaten by one of the many things you hear moving around at three A.M., and getting lost on the way back to your car in the morning.  Of course, that's also the kind of story that really impresses everyone at the office on Monday. 

It can be a real adventure if you do it right.  Or, rather, if you do it wrong.  One of my best camping stories wouldn't have happened if the people I went with hadn't accidentally left out most of their food when they went to sleep and subsequently attracted a large bear.  After devouring every edible thing it could find, the late-night visitor walked around the tents for almost an hour and tried to find a way into a few of them before finally leaving.  Mitch Hedberg was right when he said that, "Smokey is way more intense in person." 

However you decide to camp, it usually is a blast.  For some reason we're normally willing to ignore the bugs, humidity, burnt food, crazy animals, rocky sleeping spots, uncooperative weather, that point where you realize that the tracks you've been following for the past hour are your own, and that that tree looks familiar because you've passed it six times already.  Even the technically bad parts just make it a better story for when you've made it back home. I should probably stop here.  I really need to make a note to bring some matches for the next trip before I forget.  On the other hand, maybe we'll try to improvise again.  I'll let you all know how it works out.