Primitive Camping Gets A Luxury Upgrade

The word from Colorado yesterday was that it rained on Sunday. Lots and lots of rain. Enough rain to flood the bottom of the tent and send two of my three rugged outdoorsmen into the car to sleep, leaving the third behind with a friend to compete for a small stretch of dry ground.

Before I reveal the outcome of the situation, let me just share a glimpse of what camping preparations have looked like in this house for the last two weeks. Hubs hung out at Bass Pro and Academy Sports on all his lunch hours, where there was apparently some kind of Coleman white sale. I am positively astounded by the number of things necessary to camp in a primitive fashion. We had camp towels (glorified Sham Wows), air pillows, foam bed rolls, and thermal sleeping bags. Their tent was the Pottery Barn of the camping world. We had the biodegradable soap, the clothes line, the iodine water purifying drops, and the new and improved deluxe flashlight that must flash light in a different way from the sixteen flashlights we already owned. We had camel backs, back packs, and packs of waterproof matches. Cooking gear, fishing gear, and hiking gear.

A good scout is always prepared, and preparedness keeps sporting stores and REI in business.

Don't think I didn't have fun contributing to all the supplies. I purchased three sporks (spoon/forks) in red, blue, and green, then found three plastic plates in those same colors and matching cloth bandanas to use for napkins. See? Everyone had their own color so things could be tidy, efficient, and a tad eloquent too. Because as Martha Stewart says, "Life is too complicated not to be orderly." And we all know that she makes quite the spokeswoman for primitive camping. Wilderness survival....it's a good thing.

Well, it's all fun and planning until someone rains on the camping parade.

It rained here too yesterday, but it didn't phase me a bit because I had a wonderful lunch with my friend Sandy, who also has a husband and two sons on this same camping trip. We nestled into a booth at my favorite deli and sipped steaming hot bowls of soup while listening to the rain patter outside the window. It was heavenly. The funny thing is that Sandy spoke with her boys yesterday too, and they didn't even mention the rain. Her boys are both Eagle scouts, and are seasoned campers. It is entirely possible that they didn't even notice the rain. They probably stitched together fig leaves with vines to create some elaborate shelter that kept them dry as the Arizona dessert. They probably speared trout and cooked it over a roaring fire that they built by rubbing two sticks together, too. Because that's what eagle scouts do.

New scouts, on the other hand, pile into a Honda Civic and drive to a resort three miles away and rent a cabin. An actual cabin, where they can cook up their entire trunk of dried food on a hot plate, towel off with Sham Wows after stepping out of an actual shower, and roll out their sleeping bags on bed frames with mattresses. I'm thinking they are only a concierge and one room service delivery away from not really qualifying as "camping".

This isn't what I envisioned at all when they left town to rough it, but I'm really happy that my guys are going with the flow, being far more flexible than I would be if I were there, and of course, sipping cold beverages out of their mini-fridge. Not that I am one to point a (well manicured) finger. I am here with my quilted Charmin and my pillow top mattress, which is exactly where I feel called by the Lord to be. Eating my frozen foods with a spoon AND a fork.

Yesterday they went white water rafting, and today they are off to the sand dunes. And I'm here by the phone, waiting for the latest word from Ranger Rick and his five star gang.