I Hate Camping

The title of this post is actually sugar coated- I LOATHE camping. I'm sure there are plenty of people out there willing to try and talk me out of my distaste for outdoorsy-ness, but I am officially not buying. I have plenty of camping experience that proves otherwise.

You may think I am just being high maintenance, and if in truth that is the case, so be it. Still, there's a reason I was born in this century with all of it's modern luxuries and urban ways of life. Convenience is nice. Comfort is nice. Luxury is especially nice. None of which you will ever find on a camping trip.

I didn't grow up with hippie/granola parents or anything, but we did venture out every year or two to "enjoy" a nice camping trip- or what some people call a "vacation" for reasons beyond my understanding or comprehension. I will never understand how sleeping on the ground and pooping behind a tree could be classified as a vacation.

Anyway, as far as the family goes, I don't remember much tent time. We did, however, purchase a tent trailer around the time I was about 8 or so. We thought that thing was awesome! We had queen and full size beds that pushed out to the side and a convertible twin from the dining table. We had this little kitchen which basically made it a life size play house for us. My dad would set it up in our driveway or in the backyard and we would cry when he'd insist on taking it down.

Then one time, we actually took it camping. It suddenly became much less glamorous. I remember trying to pull it into a campground and my parents arguing about getting it stuck and not knowing how to back it out without jack-knifing the thing. It was a short lived crisis. So we got 'er all set up, made some dinner in our little kitchen, and then settled in for a good nights sleep. Well, that tent trailer became a lot less palatial with two parents and five children in it! Plus, this was no RV, so we still had to grab some leaf first thing in the morning or head to the filthy campsite bathrooms which were detestable at best.

I remember taking this same trip to Jackson Hole a few times. We always planned to go at the same time as my *very well off* cousins. They also had five kids and never failed to stay in a condo that was bigger than our house. After one night in that tent trailer I was begging my parents to let me have a sleepover! Thankfully, they obliged. Probably due to the tight living quarters back in the trailer, but whatever the reason, I was grateful.

We had our share of dramas on these camping trips- bird poop on the head, breaking other campers' belongings, getting lost in the woods, creature encounters, trashy campsite neighbors fighting all night with the use of a sailor's vocabulary. It really was such a happy family time! Still, I must give credit to my parents for making their best effort.

The fun continued as an adolescent since I am indeed a Mormon and the church hosts a girls camp every year. The first year was not so bad. I was 12 and I hadn't been camping with the family in a couple years so any memory I had of it was distant and fuzzy. We did have to sleep in tents which was far from ideal, but I managed somehow.

The second year of girls camp was with a bunch of girls I barely knew, thus creating my lack of enthusiasm for the whole excursion. We did however sleep on the floor of a cabin, which was a slight upgrade.

The third year was awful- not the worst (that's still to come), but it was bad. It was Stake camp, so there were hundreds of people there. We all slept in tents and our ward had the spot right by the river. The temperature drop at night was bad enough, but sleeping nearly on top of the water made it unbearable. I would have to sleep with my head inside my sleeping bag (actually my 2 sleeping bags). I got so sick and was not feeling well at all. Then to top it off I got diarrhea for 2 nights making treks to the glorious camping toilets every 10 minutes throughout the night. Then I got eczema- fabulous. Camping was destroying me.

That same year we had a youth conference camping trip. It was mainly a boating trip, so not quite as bad. Still, we had about 8 girls squished into this little tent like sardines. I happened to be sleeping on the unstable side where the tent was lopping of the side of a wooden berm. So I'd have this piece of wood in my back all night or just fall right off the edge where there was no solid foundation.

The fourth year my mom made me suffer through about 3 nights before our scheduled family vacation to Hawaii. Hallelujah! That was the year we encountered a Moose and a very scary incident with a Mountain Lion. Luckily we were in a cabin again that year. All the girls kept saying I would miss out on the best activities of camp and I was thinking, "What part of HA-WAI-I don't they understand?"

My fifth year was the kicker. We went to Park City in June. School was obviously out so it even had to be the latter part of June. It was once again Stake camp, which in high school was great because you knew more people and could associate with your regular friends from school that weren't in your own ward. We were off to a good start regardless of- once again -tents and no bathrooms.

Everything was good until the first night it started to rain. We hoped it would pass and we had a field trip planned for the next day to the Olympic Park, so we would be inside anyway. Off we went to tour the park, but the rain just kept coming down. A group of about 6 of us- including one of our adult leaders- were left at the park for hours. We had no phones at that time and no cell service anyway, so we just waited. We waited for hours just watching the rain come down until someone came back to pick us up, which was the good news. The bad news was that they had only noticed we were gone because the camp was flooding and no one from our tent had picked up and moved. Aye aye aye. There was basically nothing salvageable and our only dry clothes were the ones we were wearing. We moved into another tent who was willing to take us in and squish so that we were basically sleeping on top of each other. It was one of the most uncomfortable nights of my life.

In the morning we woke up to a few inches of SNOW. Anyone who knows me knows I detest snow nearly (that's right I said NEARLY), as much as camping. This is basically what we were facing (and totally unprepared for it).

I didn't care what rules they had laid out for us- I rallied up a group of girls to trek on down to the Chevron I could see from our campsite to get some hot chocolate. Lucky for me, a couple of the leaders were in on the plan so they drove us. While we were doing that, some people from our tent had brought in heaters to help melt the snow and keep us warm inside. Wow, the relief was great... but within a couple hours that tent was flooded as well.

My dad had arrived on the scene by that point as part of the back up crew. Me and my sisters BEGGED him to take us to the Park City house- a house owned by the same Jackson Hole cousins- only miles down the road. Since we had no clothing to stay and be part of the chaos anyway, he obliged. Never have I enjoyed a hot shower so much as that one. We never did go back to camp that year as they had moved it to a stake house in the area only to cancel camp altogether a few short hours later.

The sixth year my mom was trying to get me all excited about it and I just gave her that look. That "if you mention it one more time I may kill you in your sleep" look. So she made me drive up with her one afternoon to deliver lunch and we were there less than 2 hours before heading home.

I never was a camp counselor, much to my mother's dismay, but I received my Young Womanhood camp recognition, that is apparently part of God's plan to make you miserable in nature, award. And on the bright side, I never even had to complete the hiking portion of the requirements due to my arthritis.

Phew. Bullet taken. My family would never be able to talk me into going camping again and I was sure I'd have no more church obligations.

WRONG.

I did go on a young single adults trip, which was actually a river trip, which included one night of camping. It was an adventure and for all intents and purposes, it was actually quite enjoyable. Still, there was that moment after 6 hours on the river and going into my leader's RV to use the bathroom that I thought, "maybe they'll let me sleep in here if I beg them..." Yeah, right. Off to join the tent gang I went.

Only a year ago, my husband and I were called to be the leaders in charge of all the ward activities. We accepted with the condition of having the professional chef in our ward on our team. Within a few weeks they sent us a list and timeline of activities they wanted us to plan. Everything looked great until I got down to WARD CAMPOUT. Oh, hell no.

So, we put it off and put it off until the bishopric started mentioning it. Luckily by that time, living in Arizona, it was too hot to go camping until the fall. Still, they wanted us to start thinking about it. So I thought about it and came to one conclusion- I cannot, will not, no way in hell, go camping. I will plan it, but I will absolutely not be coming.

So I talked to my husband about this, bringing up some very valid points.

• The people who insist on us holding this activity will very likely have a scheduling conflict and not show up.
• The other people who insist have nice RV's or four wheelers or boats or whatever other toys they need to have a good time. Camping is much less "camping" for them than those of us sleeping in our Walmart tents or even the back of our midsize SUVs.
• I have NO IDEA how to camp in Arizona. It's much different than Utah, where I grew up and I wouldn't even know where to begin to find a decent campground.
• Also, I have no idea what kinds of critters or wildlife live in the Arizona wilderness- what about bobcats, bears, scorpions, rattlesnakes, or other exotic bugs and rodents?
• What about serial killers?
• What about unpleasant neighbor campers? Fighting, yelling, or just disturbing us.
• What about underage drinkers just looking for a place to get wasted?
• What if my Crohn's disease acts up and I get diarrhea all night and have no bathroom? I can't go without a bathroom.
• I paid good money for my bed and I deserve to sleep in it!
• What if we have an emergency and don't have cell phone service?
• What if someone wanders off and gets lost?
• What if kids burn each other with hot marshmallows from the campfire or poke each other in the eye with a stick?
• What if we don't have the proper supplies?
• What if we don't store our food properly and it spoils making us all sick?

... and thank heavens at this point my hubby stopped me and said, "I don't think you hate camping so much as being down right terrified of it!" Which is partially true. I'd call it fear in addition to hate- not a great combination. So, he suggested we talk to our friend in the bishopric about this and maybe pass it off to someone else.

It took some time to get our point across, but I think they started to understand although they still encouraged us to be involved. If by involved they meant delegate, then we were all over that. In a meeting one Sunday morning, the bishop asked about the dates of the camp out and then asked my husband, "So you're gonna be there, right?" He responded with no hesititation, "Absolutely not. I will find any excuse to be out of town that weekend."

Well, it did happen and we did not go nor were we very helpful in planning it as we moved only a few weeks later. All I know is that if I ever get called to participate in girls camp, I will easily decline. I just can't handle it. I will have nightmares of this happening:

In college we lived right near these great canyons. There were always tons of activites going on up there like bonfires and such. Those were pretty fun, but we always got to drive home and sleep in our bed.

I do enjoy nature. The beautiful lakes, the wildflowers, the fresh air- but a couple hours will suffice. The s'mores- I make in my backyard firepit. The tent- I'll pitch in my backyard if my kids ever insist.

I know that a lot of people would argue that those are priceless family memories that I surely cannot deny my children of. I think about that only to be reminded of a sitcom I once caught on tv. I don't remember what it was but one of the main characters had grown up in New York City and the rest had moved there after growing up elsewhere in the country. The episode was based on having adolescent experiences involving a car- driving one, making out in one, etc. This woman was so distraught that she had none of these in her upbringing, so she goes out and gets a driver's license and tries to capture some of those experiences. She fails miserably only to realize that her experiences were merely different, not less. She had had so many advantages living in the city that her friends did not.

That will have to be my kids. Just different. I am willing to do a lot of things for them, even take them up for an evening of bonfires, singing, and s'mores, but we will definitely never be spending the night.

**Also, if you want to have a good laugh you can type "hate camping" into google and read some hilarious stories on why other people don't like camping either. So funny.