HOW DO i, out of all people, like camping?
I have fond memories as a child of going family camping at my uncles campground which, at the time, felt like millions of miles away— turns out, it was about a 15 minute ride from my childhood home, but i think i was blinded by the excitement that came along with the change of scenery. as i had gotten older, those family camping trips seemed to diminish but my fondness for them didn’t.
it wasn’t until i joined the scouts that i realized camping didn’t just consist of a permanent campground with pre-constructed fire pits— there was the option of roughing it. hiking to a piece of land, clearing it properly, and setting up shop for the duration of your stay and leaving no trace. the land you live on has infinite resources, so long as you know how to use them. i remember going out on an overnight in my late teens that truly tested my ability to survive with very little— it fundamentally change my perspective. nature had become second nature.
i was out to dinner with some extended family the other night, and they kept insisting i accompany them on a cruise sometime. i politely declined, but they couldn’t wrap their heads around my disdain for giant cruise ships and in the moment, i couldn’t either. i’ve canoed many places, i’ve sailed small, freshwater sailboats, but I’ve seen the titanic, and I’ve lived through a pandemic— cruises aren’t my style.
“what’s your idea of a vacation?” they asked.
“my phone is left at home, and i am in the middle of the new england wilderness.”
“but you shower twice a day.”
“oh, i know.”
to be totally honest, they had a good point— i do shower twice a day. how could i enjoy pitching a tent on some shoddy piece of dirt & cooking my food in a bag of boiling water? the conversation ended there, but i continued to let it weigh on my mind. over the last few days, my thoughts have concluded.
the land we live on is naturally ours— we’re all inhabitants of it regardless of social, political, or economic structures that govern it. in our circumstance, here in the states, we’re bound and conditioned by the structures of crony capitalism, not to be confused by the purely free market which no longer exists. the idea of a corporate conglomerate— hotels, cruises, airlines, etc delivering me a good or service that i must pay a premium for only aids and abets the hijacked structure we live under in the first place. you’re going to work all year to get one week off which you must pay for with the money that you’re forced to work for in the first place? this is by no means a critique of genuine capitalism, either— nobody gets a free ride. i can be a fan of a system, but i can also opt not to partake in it.
and to me, that is what a vacation is about— it’s not just the disconnect from my phone, it’s a disconnect from daily life & power structures while also serving as a reconnect to the land we live on. you can’t evade everything— you need to use gas to get where you’re going. you need food and supplies along with other luxuries that you can very easily pick up with a bustling infrastructure, and for all of that, i am grateful— but we should cherish the land around us, and we should do all we can to protect it.
