The Great Outdoors

As a child, I went camping with my dad and our family A LOT. It seems looking back that we spent the entire summer sleeping in a little dome tent and camping out at Wilcox campground. I think it is near Wabasha, but I don't even know if it's still there. It was such a sleazy campground; they didn't even get real bathrooms with showers until I was a teenager. Instead there were outhouses labeled "Roosters" and "Hens." The place was run by a deaf guy named Lloyd, and his dad, also named Lloyd. There was nothing to do at this campground except get on your boat and go somewhere else. It was right on the Mississippi River, and my cousins and I would spend hours swimming in the green, stinky water next to the little dock, getting out when someone needed to put their boat in the water.

We all heard rumors about the campground down the road, how they had a pool and horseback riding and everything, but we never got to see it. I guess that's where rich people got to go camping. We used to stand around for hours on end in our life jackets and swimsuits, waiting for an adult to take us out to the sandbar. When we would go, we would spend the entire day swimming and baking in the sun, or riding the torpedo behind my dad's boat, or even water skiing. At night my dad and aunts and uncles would drink around the the campfire all night long. We were probably a pretty obnoxious family to camp near. One of my most vivid memories is camping on the sandbar with my dad, brother and a few cousins. We sat around our little campfire that night and sang, "Lady in Red," which was a favorite of my dad's. I always felt sad when those days came to an end.

I haven't been camping for years and years, and this last weekend I finally did. We drove three hours or so, all packed tightly into Todd's truck, and met our friends at their home. We picked the hottest freaking days of the summer to go. When we first got there and set everything up, I honestly didn't think my spoiled central-air candy ass was going to be able to handle it. It was well over 90 degrees and humid as hell. I had a brief panicky moment in my mind ("The bathroooms are way over there?").

We walked a long LONG ways to the beach. The lake was beautiful; there were boats and jet skis and a lot of people there. The water felt great and there was a breeze, which helped to cool us off. We swam for a long time, and after a while, I went up to lie on the beach and dry off. I put a towel over my eyes to keep out the sun, but I peeked out from underneath it. Grace and the other girls were sculpting animals in the sand, and the boys were in the water playing catch with a football. I stared at the clouds and at the kids and the sand. The colors were so bright and vivid; everything was so alive. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my skin.

Sleeping that night was a chore - there was a huge fight over who was going to sleep where. By the time morning came, I was with all three kids and Todd was alone in the bigger bed. It took a long time for them to settle down. The heat was still terrible, and there was a loud group of teenage boys across from us that were up until the wee hours of the morning. We had to just lie still and wait for the breeze that would come through the window once in a while and make you go, "Ahhhh." But I could take it. I was tough. I made fun of the people in their big campers with air conditioning and TVs. Hah! Big wimps. I sat outside in the morning drinking my coffee and watching the hawks soar above us. Life was good.

We made it out of there just in time as we drove through terrible thunderstorms all the way home. I listened to my mp3 player and read my book to pass the time. When we finally made it home, everyone was exhausted, dirty, sweaty, stiff and sore. A cool shower never felt so good.

Todd is on vacation all next week and we are planning on camping again, maybe for two nights. It is not final yet, but we may be going to Jellystone Park. It will be the last hurrah, as the next week we start school!

I'm going to miss this summer.