I was a little nervous. First of all, I've only camped once since college. I am old now, and less inclined to think of sleeping on the ground as an adventure.
Secondly, when camping in college, we always packed beer first. Anything after that was incidental or a nice surprise ("Oh, sleeping bags! That was a good idea! Who packed those?"). I'm an adult now, so alcohol is no longer the number-one priority like it was for my college self. But now I'd have to actually learn how to pack for a real camping trip.
I packed, all right. And wondered if maybe I'd overpacked. Because this was how many bags I had, and only two of them were Mark's:
Mind you, this was an overnight camping trip. Here in the city, close to provisions. We weren't even in the desert or mountains, or some other remote location. I have no idea how we'll pack any more gear in my little car for an extended trip.
We arrived at the Boy Scout camp, and the boys went to work setting up. I went to lunch with my friend Liz (I told you, this was city camping!).
I returned to set up my tent, and immediately ran into problems. The little O rings with the tent stakes wouldn't stick in the mud. The stakes were only about an inch long, which didn't seem to work. My tent also wouldn't stand up after I threaded the poles through, so I jammed the pole ends into the dirt for stability. It didn't work.
The troop leader sent over four Scouts, who figured out what was wrong in about 30 seconds.
"You put these little rings into the tent poles," one boy told me. "But they're all full of dirt--that's weird."
It wasn't the last time that weekend a Boy Scout would prove smarter than me.
"Um...well, that's my fault," I stammered. "I...kinda...shoved the poles into the mud." God bless those Scouts, not one of them laughed. They patiently dug the caked-in dirt out.
They got my tent all set up. My home-away-from home looked pretty good.
"Did you bring a mat?" the troop leader asked, and I nodded. I didn't tell him it was actually a queen-size air mattress.
Unfortunately, my air pump was powered by the cigarette lighter in my car. Which was parked about 300 yards away. I'd have to pump it up in the parking lot and sneak it back to my tent. I inflated the mattress, and realized there was no way I could discreetly deliver it to the tent. I slung it on my back, and refused to make eye contact with any Scouts. I didn't fool anyone.
"Roughing it tonight, huh?" one of the Scout leaders asked with a smile on his face.
"I'm still new to this," I answered. I was making quite the impression on the Scouts.
The boys spent the afternoon completing activities. I took advantage of our location and the busy schedule and went to get a haircut. When I came back, I asked if I could help out. The troop master shook his head, and told me the boys run the camp, so they'd be cooking. I was beginning to like Scout camp.
The boys did, in fact, run the camp and meals, and did a great job at both. The new Scouts learned a lot, and the older Scouts were very patient teaching them.
Dinner time rolled around. The Scouts cut up potatoes, onions, carrots, and bell peppers. Then they put them in a foil packet, slopped on some raw hamburger, and folded them up into "hobo pockets." The name seemed especially fitting, since we were camping right next to the railroad tracks.
Mark made the newbie mistake of putting too much hamburger in, shaped like a big meatball. He added his pocket to the others balanced precariously over the fire, but it took almost an hour for his pocket to fully cook. .
"It's like food Jenga!" one Scout observed, as he carefully pulled a pocket from the bottom of the pile. Everyone groaned as another pocket fell into the fire.
Next up was the campfire. We were treated to Dutch-oven cobbler (fantastic!) and skits that went on forever, and sometimes ended without a punchline. We solemnly retired a few old flags, which flamed up pretty high and freaked us out a bit.
Finally, we retired to our tents. I slept great on my air mattress.
I awoke early the next morning to boys yelling, "Wake up, Scouts! Time to get up!"
I waited a few minutes for Mark to call me on the walkie-talkie and tell me his blood sugar number, but he never did. I got up to find him.
I approached the group, and was greeted by the Troop leaders. One offered me a cup of espresso (ooh, fancy camping!), which I gladly accepted. I looked around for Mark, and another leader told me to put my blinders on.
I didn't understand at first, until I saw this:
That's right, s'mores for breakfast! Breakfast of champions. I just smiled. I wasn't going to be the buzzkill mom who ruined the camping trip by lecturing them about nutrition.
I still didn't see Mark, and I had my suspicions on why not. I approached his tent, and saw this:
That's right, my slacker kid was still in bed. I told him to check his blood sugar and get up. Then I told him he was missing out on s'mores for breakfast, and how often does he get those?
Even that didn't motivate him. I sent a couple of his friends to wake him up. Jonah stood at the tent and politely tried to convince him out of bed. Sean handed me his marshmallow skewer and ran to jump on Mark. I could see the tent shaking from the commotion, but still no Mark.
I went to the tent and dragged Mark out. I dumped him out of his sleeping bag, and we were laughing uncontrollably...until the Troop leader appeared, and quietly but firmly told Mark his mother shouldn't have to drag him out of bed. He told Mark to get up and get dressed, which Mark did immediately. I mumbled "Sorry," and went back to my side of camp, where I wouldn't be a bad influence any more.
The boys made a second breakfast of pancakes and Dutch-oven french toast. (I got a Dutch oven for Christmas, and can't wait to try out some of these recipes!) The boys broke down camp afterwards, and although the Troop leaders offered up volunteers to break down my tent, I did it myself. I like a challenge, and putting the tent back into its tiny little bag was a good one. It beat me last time we went camping, but I wasn't going to let it beat me this time--I made it fit!
All in all, I have to say Scout camping was pretty fun. I'm looking at it as a dry-run, a chance to see what I need or don't need for next time. Here's what I came up with:
- More blankets/jackets. The wind was chilling, and I will remember next time that the outdoors are cold.
- I need a mess kit for myself. Mark did not want to share his with me, and only lent me a spoon and bowl when I threatened him with cleaning the cat litter box for he next six months.
- Mark needs a metal mess kit. Putting a flaming hot hobo pocket on a plastic plate--not a good idea.
- I may need a smaller sleeping bag, since my warm, fluffy one filled half the gigantic duffel bag above.
- I definitely need a battery-operated air mattress pump so I can discreetly inflate my mattress inside my tent. I'm glad the Scouts enjoy roughing it, but this Diva needs her beauty rest.
As the lone female, I tried my best to stay out of the activity and just be an observer, not an intrusive mom. And even though I offered to help, the leaders made it clear the boys were to do all the work. So I got to spend the afternoon reading, relaxing, and enjoying the camp. I could definitely get used to that!
I'm actually kinda looking forward to the next trip...
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