Howdy,
About camping, What if?—or, If only …
I’ve mention a few things about camping being fascinating, built on grand expectations and assumptions, involving anticipation of relaxation and its counterparts: active adventures; escapes from work, from heat, from the routine of daily grind (but not in the sense of the much-needed cup of coffee—we employed a new method for us this latest trip: a percolator—history repeating itself, apparently, so I kind of felt like Teddy Roosevelt prepping coffee for the camp [could see myself in one of those old black and whites with a floppy felt hat]); and another kind of escape: from any kind of strict or good diet; epic stuff, at least most certainly when compared with mundane routine (whatever that is).
What do we like about sleeping-bag-bed-head camping?
Waking up and getting after it!
After the coffee, of course.
Wilderness is adventure. Active exploration and outdoor adventure.
The activities I had brainstormed into a draft for this post before departing for our recent weekend of camping looked like this: “swimming, digging in the dirt, kayaking, fishing, hiking.”
And we did them all except kayaking, because we didn’t bring kayaks, because there wasn’t a lake or a big enough river where we camped—but I could have added riding motorcycles to the list, because we did that: in a couple of different ways.
First, my friend Jeremiah brought his new quad runner and he gave multiple rides to all the kids each day—pulling them in a trailer, which was perfect for the gang. But we also got some adult mountain riding in as well. Tom (Epa, to the kids) brought two dirt bikes, so we made use of all three motorcycles for a bit of exploring and running over small fallen trees. Only one fought back too much, biting my shin a bit, but not too badly. Worth the fun we had.
Swimming: two days of the kids and most of us adults enjoying the beautiful, clear mountain creek. The kids went all “Team Rescue” and worked amazingly together to build a log-jam dam that was pretty log-jam impressive. They had a ball!
Digging in the dirt: dirt; sand; rocks; banks of the stream and forest for stick, logs, and trees for the kid-built dam.
Kayaking: already said no. (Just following my list. Working to become a writer in which my grocery list will be framed and hung in museums. Not really, but thought I’d give it a try, which will probably be my downfall in keeping my out of the museums or even from being allowed to park in the parking lots.)
Fishing: yes. I caught a four-and-a-half-incher. Epic. We’ll call him The Creek Monster.
Hiking: also, yes. We all hiked Fresno Dome, which was a great hike. I recommend it. Like a micro-version of Half Dome. Very micro to that. But striking elements. I’ll talk more about the hike later.
Oh, happy hiker (aka, camper with sore legs the next morning).
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
Word Count: 142,286 / On Pace: 151,800 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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