Sleeping pads are really unnecessary, Jake said. They take up a lot of space. Plus they’re for wimps.
I thought, yeah, you’re right. Better to be a minimalist.
Well, I barely got a wink of sleep last night. My hips felt like they were digging trenches in the dirt.
Oh, that’s right. They were. Then I thought, wait a sec, I already know I’m a wimp. What was I trying to prove?
We’re Jacksons so we don’t do car camping. We don’t do running water, dutch ovens, flashlights, or sleeping pads. (It’s really no wonder Jake hates sleeping outside.)
No, we walk up to the campsite and make our 3-year-old walk the whole way, with her own backpack, and she screams and cries and says that she’s sleepy every 10 seconds. And when we’re not looking, she picks up rocks/sticks/pieces of plastic and puts them in her mouth, just to get back at us.
Here’s the real Jackson. Didn’t even bring extra clothes. Just one shirt. We just watch while he makes the fire (Luckily, Jacksons do bring a lighter, if they remember one. We’re not that hard core.).
What I love about camping: hobo dinners (I have no idea why, but I love this meal), s’mores, firelight in the evening, and the fact that we were able to escape the heat our our house. For a little while.
Except for the not-sleeping part, we made the most of our 14 hour trek into the wilderness. That’s all I could handle, since I had to take like a 4 hour nap in our bed today. I also really like my dutch oven and that it sits in my cupboard and I don’t have to carry it anywhere. And that I don’t have to gather tons of wood for one meal. And that I don’t burn everything.
I guess I like a little camp. And then a lot of home.