Friday, January 26, 2007


It's taken a long time, but I'm finally going camping a deux.    It's odd that for an activity that in principle is so important to me, I've never taken a girlfriend camping, but I guess the timing or urge has never worked out.   I'm oddly not all amped up about getting cuddly, or about seeing the particular forest, or having Coleman-stove pancakes and Nutella; in fact I'm pretty stressed out about the whole affair.

Initially the plan was to do solo camping this weekend.   I'd take off work early Friday, car-camp Friday and Saturday nights and get a long hike in on Saturday.   Yes, it's cold, but relatively clear.   I've wanted to lose my solo-camping virginity for some time now, and it seemed like a great idea, as I've hit a confluence of gear-ness where I have everything I need.    But oddly the subject of camping came up separately with the new(ish) girlfriend, and she seemed pretty psyched to get a little trip in.   My immediate doubts as to whether she could handle a really cold night out when she gets cold in my to-me-toasty apartment were immediately squelched, and I don't doubt her.    But she's not an experienced camper and I've basically been given carte blanche to get things organized. 

So, obviously, I'm stressed about minutiae.  What we're eating, what the fire situation is, what the disaster-preparedness situation is.   It's new to me.   My camping experience is twofold: with my parents, who are ubercompetent, or with buddies who are far more expert than I.     I guess the point is that I associate camping with backpacking or drinking, and I'm a little lost when neither intense physical exertion nor irresponsible inebriation (or both) is going to be the point.   Note the common thread of the pushing of personal limits.   Camping solo, the screwups are mine to deal with, but now, if the camp stove breaks, we're both screwed, and I don't dig on that.   So I'm hammering on details to make sure everything goes smoothly, because there are expectations.    And bears.   And rednecks.

Anyway, I'll try to post and let everyone know if drunk Maryland hunters kill me or I freeze to death.

1 comment:

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