Traditional camping, as I perceive it, involves a tent, sleeping bags, cooking meals over a campfire or table-top grill etc. “Glamping”, officially now a real word according to Webster, involves a bit of traditional camping but with a little more glamour and comfort.
I so happen to have friends on both sides of that coin. I have friends who have never spent a night in a tent and wouldn’t dream of it without electricity and most modern amenities. And also have other friends who would never opt to sleep in a trailer or cottage when experiencing the great outdoors. I’ve always been the avid traditional camper and sit somewhere in between. I like the showers and running water, but electricity? But at this point in my life, I dare to say, I have begun to teeter!
We’re Almost There
Summer has arrived. Covid is leaving and not soon enough!
The patio furniture is out, lights are up, the grass is green after a long, hard winter, flowers are in full bloom and we’re thinking “camping”! Plans are being made for camping with our 14 yr old and we are beyond excited to experience it all with her again! I still love it, or the idea of it at least.
Anywhere But Here
When Joe and I first met over 20 yrs ago, we needed to get away from all of the nonsense that seemed to have nothing to do with us. Our relationship was so young. We both had stuff to figure out being from two different continents a whole ocean apart, while only knowing that we were in this together, forever. We knew that our paths had fatefully aligned and come whatever would, we had to have faith in one another and in the fact that it would just work out, somehow.
Enter camping…
It seemed that camping and being away in the wilderness or close to the ocean, was the closest we could get to where we both felt we were then. Just anywhere but in the reality of “here”. And we dashed, in a major way, at every opportunity possible.
Take Me Away
Every weekend, with the Jeep loaded to the rafters, off we’d go with Murphy in tow. There was nowhere that we went where Murph didn’t want to be. Whatever Joe and I took on, he was right there with us – taking in every bit of nature, adventure and reprieve Joe and I sought out. The pic below is of our Murphy on one of those escapes – near Hopewell Hill, New Brunswick – coming out of the beautiful Sawmill Creek Bridge, built in 1908. It’s one of 58 covered bridges still standing in New Brunswick. 54 of those are maintained by the Department of Transportation and Infrastructure.
So often, would we drive to PEI or NS or somewhere in NB. Mosquitos didn’t seem quite so plentiful then but it could have just been due to the honeymoon phase we were in that we didn’t notice them so much.
In A Hurry To Go Nowhere
Taking in every sight there was to see en-route, we basked in the beauty surrounding us here on the breathtaking Canadian east coast.
We camped in damp, dark woods or at sites directly next to the ocean – where washrooms were just a short flashlight-led trek away. They were mini adventures that we were on then and we were totally up for the unknown and the “roughing it” of it all!
Nighttime would bring a thorough night’s rest and without an air mattress under us, go figure, but for just the odd mold of an anthill or equivalent. And it was all good! The floor of the tent remained between us and them! Snuggled up in sleeping bags we had zipped together with Murph at our feet, we would all fall fast asleep to the sound of the ocean’s waves.
Joe would wake ahead of me in the morning to start on the campfire, and I woke to the sounds of birds chirping, crackling firewood, the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking. Those scents and of the early morning dew on the grass evaporating into the morning air and of the saltwater close by – could life get any better?!
And then, it happened!
The Point of ‘Teetering’
Running for the washroom in the middle of the night in damp grass with toes getting wet – ewww, and barely able to hold it in. Joe couldn’t keep up to me with his flashlight on those late-night sprints and Murph, barely keeping up to Joe!
Waking in the morning to an aching back and having Joe hoist me out of our connected sleeping bags – him cross-armed and ready for the “heave-ho” on the count of 3. And the mosquitos! So plentiful as they lined up in their threatening cloud – smelling my blood and making wagers as I could so imagine in them just waiting for me to stick my blood filled head out of the tent door!
Soon our camping gear grew to include full-out lounge chairs, air mattresses, compressors, more lanterns and flashlights than you could shake a stick at, mosquito repellent of every form including a mosquito house and enough hair tools to stock my own Amazon shop.
And I surrendered.
The Jury’s Still Out
Nonetheless, as we prepare to experience traditional camping once again and begin to consider plans, it’s sure to be with a newfound appreciation of all things, thanks to a pandemic.
We will for sure just be grateful to be back to some semblance of “normal” life as we’ve formerly known it.
I may very well find that to experience that ocean air again with my toes in soft sand, snuggle in sleeping bags, fall asleep to the sound of crashing waves and wake to the smell of campfire is all more than enough.
I’m seriously excited and curious to find out if my tenting days are truly over or if I fall in love with “roughing it” all over again!
And your preference? Camping or glamping?
Up next…experience a touch of summer in northern New Brunswick in “The Gift Of The Restigouche“
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