10 Aug 2009
There’s something magic to camping. The quiet sounds of nature still louder than the faint hum of the distant city. The s’mores fire next to me radiating dwindling heat and light. The redwoods arcing overhead painting inky shadows against the sky lit with the glow of stars and the city both close and far. I’m glad to be sharing it with Sam who I hear tossing and turning in the tent, sleepless from the novelty.
I managed to forget some basics, which is impressive for car camping. It’s been a long time since I’d been camping. Next time I’ll bring the lantern, and a towel (not a froopy dude), maybe even some soap (I’d have thought there would be some in my dob kit!). This embarrasement was somewhat abated by a (paper-free) single-match fire. Though my cred was barely maintained by some frantic wood shaving as my initial effort consumed itself before catching the bigger logs.
Maybe next time I’ll bring the wife too. I suspect she’d actually like it but for the whole sleeping on the ground thing. OK and the dirty thing too, but if she came, she’d probably remember soap. Maybe next time we’ll have a meal here too. It’s a little tricky because the little one likes her stuff separate from her other stuff, and about all I can cook on a fire is a one-pot of some variety or another.
Clearly, though, there will be a next time in some shape or another. It’s too magic to forgo for long.