This is supposed to be a life hack, but mostly it’s a story about camping.
Anyway.
We went camping a few weekends ago. We had not been camping as a family since August 2019, and I have had three. more. babies. in the interim. There are now seven of us total. We have, in threes and twos, gone on short backpacking trips in the last five years, but not the “whole family camping” shebang. So, we had not gathered items in proportion to our growth. But this opportunity was too good to pass up: cousins at the Great Sand Dunes. Relevant context: there’s a National Park in Southern Colorado called Great Sand Dunes. Due to a remarkable natural phenomena (read: God decided on a gigantic sandbox), there’s an enormous dunefield—home of the largest dunes in North America—nestled against a mountain range.
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We wanted to go, state of readiness aside. We have a great car for camping (Dodge Durangos are great family cars!), but with every single seatbelt claimed and limited trunk space, it felt unlikely that everything we needed—six sleeping bags and a sleeping pad to go with each one, two tents, towels, clothing, diapers, the FOOD—would fit in the cubic footage that remained.
Some of the catch-up items, like a large-enough water canister, were claimed on a Wal-Mart run 48 hours before departure. In the camping aisle, Jonny held up a white metal thermos with a lid, and asked, “If we buy this, will you like camping?” Now that I think of it, we could have grabbed a pair of flip flops for me on the same Wal-Mart run, but I just went with what I had.
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Jonny worked some kind of miracle with the sheer number of objects (at least one hundred, so I want to say “hundreds of objects”) in the trunk (and sides and in leg room space) of the car. The backseat was pretty much a sleeping bag nest, which two of our kids climbed into with admirable cheerfulness.
Somewhere on our way to the Sand Dunes, I switched over to this mentality: we were not going to have some of the things we needed, and this will not throw me into despair. I flipped a receipt over and started writing down whenever I thought of something we didn’t have. This helped quell the “I’M NOT READY FOR THIS” feeling, because I could do something with it—something that could actually help me be more ready the next time.
I kept adding to the “NOT READY” list during the three days we were at the campsite.
Having aunts, uncles, and cousins on the same trip can cover over a multitude of unreadiness. But we were prepared enough to clamber up and down the 500-foot dune we picnicked under on our second day in the National Park. Fun fact: it’s very hard to fall down a sand dune. The texture of millions of uniform size grains of sand, all stacked up in a heap, cushions footsteps in a way that is so different than “normal ground.” You can climb a face that is much steeper than what you could usually climb. I kept thinking of the “Further up! And further in!” refrain from the final Narnia book. The best part of playing on the dunes is running down. Even if you manage to fall, it doesn’t hurt.
We didn’t need much that day—snacks, sunscreen, bug spray, swimsuits, sandals, hats (immediately tossed aside, but we had them). The one glaring problem during the trip was rain gear. That night, starting around dinnertime, it rained for four hours. We didn’t have the right gear to stay dry. So, the kids went into the tent way before nightfall. My only tactic with “sleeping while camping” (or on any trip, really) is to let kids stay awake until way, way past their bedtime. That was no longer an option. Around 7 p.m., we stuffed them into the tent, instructing them to find their pajamas. We zipped the rainfly shut and stood back, watching the tent bounce from side to side. From the inside, we heard a seven-year-old voice say, “Uh, Dad? I don’t think this is going to work. We still have a lot of energy.”
They did go to sleep eventually, and they didn’t get too cold, which was the important thing. I wrote it down on the list, and after we went home, I researched rain gear and learned the word “anorak.” Now I know what to look for at the thrift store.
Car camping is one of those things you can do before you’re ready. The absolute worst thing that can happen is that you have to pack everyone back in the car and drive home, which would be disappointing, but not the end of the world. Other experiences fall into this category, too—if you wait until your home is perfect, it’s going to be a long time before you can invite anyone over to share a meal. Sometimes, it’s “Set, GO, Ready.” You won’t learn what you really need to be “ready” until after the trial run. And maybe the trial run will be awesome.
At any rate, I would have missed a lot if I had said we couldn’t go until I was ready.
We have never been camping with all three of our kids and had a trip planned for this weekend that got completely rained out. Three kids in a tent during an all night thunderstorm is where I draw the line 😂😂 we are disappointed but hopefully hot dogs and s’mores over our fire pit for dinner will suffice for now
Narnia callback