![]() |
My tent was just like this |
I haven't been camping in more than fifteen years. I find that funny because that was something
I used to look forward to every summer.
That's only partially true.
Camping fever started around the May long weekend (what we in Canada refer to
as May 24, or Victoria Day). It was
rarely the perfect weather, but you could usually plan to spend some days
outdoors.

It is a far cry from my days with a square tent with heavy
aluminum poles (state of the art at the time) and guide strings. I remember having to pump up both the stove
and lantern before they could be used.
Washing dishes required a good size bucket and again, pumping that stove
for hot water.

Among my circle, I must congratulate my younger brother and
sister (as well as their spouses) for still being hardcore enough to hike
kilometres through dense bush and portage between rivers and lakes and mosquito infested areas for that pristine,
back to basics camping. Though I
wouldn't do it, I respect them for keeping it real in every sense of the word.
As I look back on it, I probably gave up on the whole
camping thing after one memorable trip in which every single one of us decided
to bring hot dogs as our contribution to the communal meals. I like hot dogs, but I am not sure they
should be eaten every meal.