Some people with zero moral scruples occasionally pretend to be campers. So with apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, I describe below what characterizes the genuine article.
You might be a camper if …
… within 24 hours, you can’t distinguish your clean clothes from grimies. Clean dishes from dirty ones. Dry possessions from wet ones. And you really don’t care.
… in 97-degree weather with matching humidity, your first thought is “Let’s build a campfire!” Second thought: “Let’s eat blazing marshmallows!”— though you don’t particularly like marshmallows, blazing or otherwise.
… if ice cream from the camp store supplies 97 percent of your family’s daily calcium requirement.
… you don’t blink an eye when said camp store keeps milk, eggs and fish bait in the same fridge.
… cooking dinner using a saucepan lid and a plastic fork comes naturally.
… you follow strict freshness guidelines: If it floats to the top of the cooler, it’s probably not life-threatening.
… your family shares the land with other species with open heart and mind … though environmental empathy may waver if a family of snakes also chooses your campsite.
… in one weekend, you contribute more blood to the area’s mosquitoes than the Red Cross collects in a year.
… the sight of a bugless bathroom moves you to tears.
… all the money saved in camping rather than staying in a posh resort is spent on calamine.
… you swim in 52-degree water with your kids or grandkids at 6:30 a.m. (“You promised, Grandma!”)
… the pop-up camper collapses and you permit your spouse to convince you this is part of the adventure.
… you translate “zero chance of rain tonight” to “wear floaties to bed.” Campers also master the art of sleeping with several family members under a steering wheel.
… having experienced sufficient family time, you strike private deals with the park ranger to lock spouse and kids inside the Nature Center.
Sceptics, having reviewed the above, question, “Why would anyone in her/his right mind leave a clean, convenient, air-conditioned home to vacation in the wilds?”
Campers aren’t in their right minds. (You haven’t deduced that yet?)
Still, though buggy, beleaguered, and occasionally not too bright, if you are a camper, you are uniquely blessed.
Now, you fill in the blank: You might be a camper if …
Made me laugh and recall a memory. One horse show outing, I stayed at the B&B while Sean attended. The kind owners ran me down by the river to the local bait shop so I could buy a lunchtime sandwich to tide me over until Sean returned. LOL! She must have seen my face because she assured me all the fishermen and locals bought food from their deli. Best ham salad sandwich I ever ate!
LOL, Kim, even I, a seasoned camping junkie, get a little squeamish when dealing with the all-inclusive camp store fridge! Now whenever I see ham salad, I’ll think of you 🙂
I used to be a camper…until I made Dave take me camping with a two-year-old. The bikes rode on the roof of the pop-up and cracked the ceiling (borrowed camper.) It leaked (a lot) when the temperature hovered around 40 with a 40 mph with wind-driven rain off lake Huron. The baby screamed. It was so cold! The camper rocked and rolled and rain dripped onto the sleeping bag. I finally did what they tell you not to do. I lit the cook stove to warm our little place and Jeremy finally went to sleep. The furnace didn’t work, so we pulled the baby into bed with us, covered us all with a drop cloth over the damp bag and went home in the morning. Then on the ay home we had a flat tire on the camper, ruined the tire and the wheel. It was wonderful to go home.
Whoa, Dori, and I thought I had a few bad camping stories! We spent a few nights with screaming babies and crawling ones who ate sticks and bugs. Also bailed out tents a number of times and, yes, slept under steering wheels. But yours sounds like the camping trip from hell! Glad you survived, and hope your future vacations work out lots better than that one did!
You might be a camper if you decide to stay at the campground knowing heavy rain and storms are coming and cover your tent with a tarp and put two underneath. Then get up in the night to use the bucket in your vestibule so you don’t have to run through the downpour to go to the restroom only to see a river running under your tent and tarps, flowing through your campsite … fun times! Did we stay dry? Yes. And the weather was great the next day. 🙂
Kelli,
A river ran UNDER your tent, and you stayed dry? You guys must be the king and queen of the campground!
But it’s worth it, isn’t it, when the sun shines the next day, and you wouldn’t be anywhere else 🙂 From one camping junkie to another, blessings on your next outing, and thanks for your comment!
Yes. The tarps underneath saved us. 🙂