Hardly Roughing It: Our Second Annual Camping Trip

Quintessential camp beverages

When Mr. W and I first started talking about camping a few years ago, I immediately mounted my high horse and regaled him with stories of my extreme outdoorsiness. I could survive in the desert with barely more than a canteen and a bandana. I could go days without a shower. I'd practically earned a PhD in s'more making. I certainly wasn't Cheryl Strayed, but I had backpacked in Angeles Crest, Joshua Tree (multiple times) and even the Sierras—where it unexpectedly snowed on us in the middle of the night. I pretty much considered myself a camping pro.

So when Mr. W insisted we bring aerobeds and pillows to sleep on last year in Big Sur, my eyes almost rolled out of my head in judgmental disgust. That was way too luxurious for camping. We needed to rough it!

One night in Big Sur, and I decided I'd pack my pillow (like he had been smart enough to do) on our next trip...

Just another spectacular California beach

Fast forward to this week and we had the car loaded for Montaña de Oro State Park with everything from the aerobeds to my silk pillowcase-covered pillow, to a down comforter for extra cushion. He had turned me.

When we stopped off at Target in San Luis Obispo on our way, it was only supposed to be for some drinking water to last us during our two-night stay. But the next thing we knew, we were loading a bottle of wine, some extra cheese, and a few random necessities, like vitamin D and cat food, into our cart.

Camp Maris

As we set up our tent, Mr. W used a bluetooth speaker to broadcast Coldplay from our picnic table so we had a work soundtrack. Our aerobeds were inflated courtesy of a power adapter plugged into the Prius. We used a firestarter packet to get our campfire raring for bratwurst cooking. 

Note to other campers: Potatoes on skewers take about 3.5 hours to cook...

We were cheating up a storm. And it only got worse.

I couldn't have Photoshopped this better than it was. Nature. Sigh.

In the morning, we decided to drive into town for a coffee...except the car wouldn't start because we had drained the battery blowing up inflatable beds and charging our iPhones! After a jumpstart from a neighboring camper, we not only headed for a coffee but went BACK to Target to buy a brighter lantern, some more paper plates, aluminum foil, gloves for Mr. W...and a birthday gift for my niece.

People, that is not camping. Camping should not involve two trips to Target and a superfluous bag of candy corn.

Camping is about unplugging from civilization! Communing with nature! Problem-solving instead of running for the easy fix!

The tidepools were like little ocean forests.

The funny thing is, now that we live in the country (yeah, I know, we're 3 years in here) it feels like we're unplugged from civilization and communing with nature and problem-solving A LOT. So maybe it's ok for our camping trips to involve a little luxury and ease.

Or maybe our next trip will involve backpacks and dehydrated dinners instead of down comforters and 3-course meals to make up for our sissiness.

Either way, we'll be sure and document the entire thing on our iPhones so we don't lose any of our technological prowess to actual creative thinking...

I bet that water is about 45°.

Sunsets are for lovers.

I like how the rocks look like stacks of capsized crackers.

Inner-Child Indulgences and Adult Exhaustion

This weekend was a kid extravaganza for Mr. Wonderful and me.

Friday night, we had my cousin, her husband, and their six and four-and-a-half year-old boys over for a backyard campout. We hatched the plan a couple months ago during a barbecue at our house, during which the boys played "paleontologists" in the backyard for hours. They were having so much fun, that when my cousin K mentioned wanting to do a tent-in-the-backyard night, I suggested they come to our house for it. Little did I know that their 10' x 10' tent would just barely fit on our largest patch of grass.

We ate burgers and hot dogs, roasted 'smores over the open fire of our gas stove, and even managed to squeeze in a viewing of Kung Fu Panda. At some point, one of the boys referred to Mr. W as "Uncle Ben."

His name is not Ben, so we all got a huge kick out of this. No idea where he pulled that one from, but we've decided Mr. W should go into the rice business.

Before bed, we inflated two air mattresses and squeezed them into the tent, building a nest of fleece blankies on each. We said goodnight to the husbands, who slept inside of course, and spent a few minutes making shadow puppets on the wall before turning off our flashlight. Then I spent the next 8 hours listening to the neighbor's TV, ghetto birds, sirens, the squeaking of bodies against air mattresses, and, at one point, the six-year-old—who sat up and started talking gibberish about someone needing to "turn off the fan."

I'm fairly certain I slept for a total of 7 minutes.

At 6:30 a.m. when both boys were bright-eyed, bushy tailed, Mr. W came outside and shushed us for being loud. Thankfully, he went back in the house and started making us breakfast.

Several pancakes and bacon strips later, it was time for the visiting clan to pack up and go home. And for Mr. W and me to stare at each other catatonically before taking a nap. We were back in bed by 9:15 a.m.

That night, we were invited to a laser tag birthday party. For a thirty-nine-year-old, naturally.

Neither of us had ever played laser tag before, so we weren't quite sure what to expect. What we got was pummeled by a small army of people under 4 feet tall. A lot of the party guests had brought along their kids so, in addition to lots of ear-piercing screams of joy in the maze's pre-entry room, we also got hit by a boatload of midget gunfire.

Kids are so super sneaky. They'd hide around corners—below our eye level—and blast us like they'd been doing it since birth. High-pitched little ninjas.

Again, we were exhausted when all was said and done.

Although I usually think of myself as a stunted adult, who is still probably about 77.8% kid inside, being around children all weekend made me realize that I am, in fact, an old lady.

I really did adore spending time with all the little ones this weekend. They're extremely entertaining. But I think the next camping trip and round of laser tag will likely involve a Glamp-ground in Washington and maybe laser vests that match our caveman outfits. Maybe we'll even play paleontologists...