Last weekend, I slept in a thunderstorm
I'll probably do it again.
Last weekend, I slept in a tent in a thunderstorm under a tornado warning. All in all, nothing bad happened. My allergies caused me to be short of breath for a few hours. I got poison ivy. A raccoon got into our sealed snacks. We didn’t starve. We were dry. We went on a handful of hikes and saw several waterfalls. We got muddy; we laughed. We had a good time roasting marshmallows and hot dogs over an open flame.
Around six or seven o’clock, when the tornado warning rolled in, rustling went through the campsite as people with dogs and children decided whether or not to stick it out. We had already committed, looking at the radar all day and deciding that it couldn’t be that bad. Maybe, if the warning had come in earlier, maybe we wouldn’t have stayed, but we did. The rain rolled in right around 9:30, and that was the end of our outside time for several hours.
I’ll start by saying, we remained dry the whole night. It was also scary. My West Coast childhood didn’t include too many thunderstorms. My West Coast camping included a lot less water and bugs in general. And as we lay there huddled in a tent, me on a sleeping pad that wasn’t exactly working, all I could think was how silly this is.
Humans worked hard for indoor plumbing and electricity and roofs that didn’t leak and walls that didn’t blow over in a storm. Many of our ancestors died because of the very elements we chose to brave on a Friday night just for the hell of it. We had two perfectly good, leak-proof apartments with central heating and cooling just an hour away where we certainly could have been. Yet, we were watching a lightning show from a tent.
And that’s the paradox of living in the modern world: camping is objectively good for us if we enjoy it even a small bit of it. Don’t do it if you don’t enjoy it, but if you do, you’re going to learn something. Maybe it’ll be about yourself or your relationship with the people you’re with or a skill that will assist you the next time you go camping. Maybe you’ll learn you never want to camp again. That’s not true for me. Regardless of our struggles, I know I’ll camp again. There’s merit in removing yourself from easy access to screens and artificial light and fast food just a couple blocks away. Let’s not get Lyme disease or e-coli just for fun, but experiencing other things, other ways of doing things, even just for a night, can really only benefit your growth as a human being.
Maybe camping isn’t for you, but there’s something you can enjoy that’s just outside your comfort zone. Perhaps it’s time to explore that.
Weekly R.E.P.O.R.T.
Reading: Dear Writer by Maggie Smith
I’m slowly chipping away at this one, reading a chapter or two at a time.
Eating: Black and white cookies
I’ve decided I want to go to New York City, find a black and white cookie the size of my head (or at least of my hand), and eat it on a park bench.
Playing: “Wondering Why” by The Red Clay Strays
Obsessing: Speks Gump Memory Gel Stress Ball
Recommending: Go to your local library.
The acoustics in mine are kind of bad, and you can hear everything (does that make the acoustics good?). But! They do this cool thing where you fill out an interest card, and then the librarian picks out a bundle of books for you. I wouldn’t have known about it had I not gone inside.
Treating: Coffee and a pastry out where I can write in public
That’s all she wrote…
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