So my oldest stepson is in the middle of his week-long Outdoor School experience somewhere in the great Oregon outdoors. He seemed excited enough, you know since he's a boy and, inexplicably, enjoys camping. As he departed I was struck by the memory of my own Outdoor School experience in sixth grade. That was back in the early 90's, pre-widespread general use of cell phones and email. I distinctly remember feeling that I would probably never see my mom again since wherever I was seemed eons away from our comfy Portland home. In fact I was only 30 miles away from home. But still...
Anyone who sort of knows me is well aware that I still HATE camping with a visceral passion that runs deep in my city girl veins. It's not the wilderness or nature or feral animals that bother me, I'm just fine with those things. It's the waking up in the middle of the night freezing, needing go to the bathroom sans indoor plumbing, runny nose and cold toes (hey, that rhymes), campfire-smell-that-never-leaves-your-clothes part that really irks me. Also, it's 2010, why are people sleeping in the woods? Shudder...
Now I'm not trying to turn a new leaf or anything (yes, that was an attempted pun), but I thought I would try to find some elegance in this entire
hell on Earth camping thing people seem so jazzed about. Rusticism (as long as it's part of well-intentioned decor and not too far from a Hilton) lives!
So my oldest stepson is in the middle of his week-long Outdoor School experience somewhere in the great Oregon outdoors. He seemed excited enough, you know since he's a boy and, inexplicably, enjoys camping. As he departed I was struck by the memory of my own Outdoor School experience in sixth grade. That was back in the early 90's, pre-widespread general use of cell phones and email. I distinctly remember feeling that I would probably never see my mom again since wherever I was seemed eons away from our comfy Portland home. In fact I was only 30 miles away from home. But still...
