Camping

We went camping on Saturday. Tough to squeeze a getaway in between Summer baseball games, but we found 48 hours and made it happen. Jack's team had lost a tough, extra-inning game right before we left and I thought Jack might be down, but in fact the kids were cheerful, singing a funny "Black socks, they never get dirty..." song they'd learned in camp that week.

Given the late start and several stops to try and find hot dog rolls (trickier than you might think), it was a little late when we checked in and started setting up the tent. And having not done it in two years and impeded by our confused dog (yes we brought Riley) walking across things and pulling her tie around our legs, it took a while. But the kids gamely helped, with Jack in particular taking it as a challenge and puzzle to be solved, and we got the tent up. I went out to get firewood (during which Riley escaped for the first time on the trip, but not the last). Coming back to the site I saw a black dog loping around. That looks like Riley, I mused. Suddenly Kate, out of nowhere, caught up to her and tackled her. Hold on, I said. She did, getting slightly dragged down an embankment but not letting go. We snapped her leash on and stared in something akin to awe at Cowgirl Kate.

Before long we were eating hotdogs (Kate: "These are the best hotdogs ever!") and drinking beer/juice boxes. Then we made s'mores, stumbled around in the dark some, and sort of fell asleep listening to the neighboring religious commune/campsite sing timeless classics like Puff the Magic Dragon and I don't know what else. I was trying to sleep.

Jack, flat on his back with his arms over his head like a traffic cop, slept the best. Kate would sleep, wake up complaining of being cold or having a nosebleed or somesuch, and go back to sleep. Emily and I, uh, didn't sleep so well. It took Riley a long time to settle down, but finally she slept. At one point, not sleeping, I went outside the tent for bathroom/ opening/closing one of the zippered windows on the tent flap. There were so many bright stars in the dark night sky.

In the morning, us tired, kids rested, we made breakfast -- pancakes (blueberry!) and bacon. Our breakfasts at home are seldom as complicated. Coffee! While we prepared things, the kids hiked around the back of the campsite, where there were lots of big rocks to climb and jump on. And, as it turned out, name. As they later explained, one of the rocks had the name "Mike" written on it. So they called that rock Mike, and another one Mary, and so on and so forth. Kate would introduce me to all of them later. The morning we left, the two of them went around taking pictures of all of them, producing some funny shots by Kate of rocks with Jack and by Jack of rocks with Kate. This is the stuff they came up with out there.

Jack helped me fix the tent, which was missing a key component from the structure. He figured it out before I did.

We went for a hike, which to those of us walking an excited, energetic Riley was more like a drag. It was a short one, but the kids made it longer by climbing up a sheer rock face near a cool waterfall. Emily and I might have looked away for a moment, and then they were at the top of a rock. We fretted quietly while they climbed around, acted like kids, came down. Kate had a little notebook with her and she took notes of things she saw: Rock, Mud, Stiks, Frog. We didn't actually see a frog, but she said, "I wrote it down because I want to see one."

After the hike we had a light lunch (hot dogs, peanut butter sandwiches) and I took the kids to the beach. It wasn't much of a beach and we couldn't go as a family because dogs weren't welcome, but it felt like something we should do. Kate dove into the water and swam and turned somersaults over and over again. Jack was more like me: "Uh, this is kind of cold. Brr." We threw a ball around a little bit, cooled off, and then went back to the campsite.

I went out for more ice and bought a cheesy little dartboard with magnetic darts. Because we always had a dartboard camping. It was a ridiculously chintzy thing and the darts didn't stick if you threw them more than 10 feet, but naturally the kids loved it and it occupied them for the next hour or so. When they didn't take breaks to visit the rocks behind the campsite.

Determined to get an earlier start on dinner and the like, we made a fire. Eventually. Didn't start quite as easily as the previous night and I was thisclose to going out for lighter fluid, but it finally caught. Emily made a hamburger and potato hash and corn on the cob over the fire which was to be totally honest absolutely fantastic. Beer not bad either. Kids even ate everything, particularly Jack, while Kate didn't eat as much of the hash because she was saving her room for her favorite summer meal, corn on the cob.

I taught Jack how to play pyramid solitaire. We played Uno, since we always played cards on camping trips, too. We played darts. We played categories, a game the kids taught us where you froze yourself in a pose of something from a category one person named, and tried not to get spotted changing position. Pretty funny. We played charades, which the kids took to splendidly. Riley, who normally naps most of the day and was thus exhausted, flopped on her side like she was half-dead and merely groaned every 15 minutes or so. (Are we going home soon? I miss my couch.)

Stating the obvious here. But there was no XBox, Facebook, TV, or iPad. No phones, no Internet, no electricity. Candles, lanterns, fire, cards, imagination games, darts, books. Nary a complaint, a gripe, a lament. Kate didn't mention being cold or warm. Jack didn't mention the bugs. We just ate and talk and played and laughed.

That night we went to bed earlier, slept better. I still woke up first, it was light, but everyone was sleeping. At some point Riley woke up and peed in the corner of the tent and on my sleeping bag, thanks dog.

On an elbow, I could see all three of my family's faces, sleeping. Just watched them for a little bit. Then lay back down and went to sleep for a little more. Until Riley got up and stepped on my head and I stumbled out of the tent with her.

We thought about just hustling out of Dodge, but instead stuck around for coffee, eggs, and toast, and also so Riley could get free one more time, slipping her collar and disappearing into the campground. She came back; I did the tackling this time.

Kids took pictures of rocks. And we said our goodbyes, and drove back to civilization, electricity, and all of its comforts (Dunkin' Donuts).

The experience wasn't perfect. We didn't sleep great, I don't need to eat another hotdog for a while, and I seriously doubt we'll take Riley again. But it was just us and the activities and events we planned, made up, and spontaneously engaged in on our own, rather than something we saw on online or heard about somebody else doing or had to do because of a commitment we'd made a month earlier. Just the family and how we are with each other, together.

Pretty soon we'll try to find another 48 hours to do it all again.