Okay, so I reeled you in with that whole “camping” thing, and here’s where I drop the bomb that tent camping and I will never exist in the same sentence (present sentence excluded). “Rustic” isn’t exactly a word I’d use to describe myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the prissy high-society type. Neiman Marcus makes me break into a cold sweat and dart my eyes around in a frantic survival-instinct search for the exits. And it’s not just because the sight of a $400 T-shirt makes my eyes bug out with a dumbfounded “WTF?…”. I much prefer to shop where no one gives a rat’s behind what I’m trying on and how it fits. (Hence my wardrobe brought to you exclusively by Mossimo for Target.)
But, I digress…
As I was saying, if you’re looking for me in the tent camping section of your nearest state park, you’re going to be disappointed. I love the great outdoors—nature and all its magnificent splendor. I just don’t like the snakes.
And the bears.
And the conspicuous absence of a private shower.
Now, that being said…National parks, state parks, whatever random parks—I’d take them over a fancy big-city vacation in a posh hotel any day. Packing up the peanut butter sandwiches and going for a long hike are right up my alley. Confused? I can’t imagine why…
No, you won’t find me in the tent camping section; but you will find me in the trailer camping section. (Which is where I redirect myself back to the whole point of this fabulous post.) Whereas we used to spend the day at the park—and then either return home or stay in a hotel—now we have our very own handy-dandy camping trailer. (A statement I never in a million years would have expected to come out of my mouth. Mainly because of the whole graywater/blackwater and requisite disposal of said waters thing. Which I’m still trying to come to terms with.)
What persuaded us to become a trailer camping family?… Why, Disneyworld, of course.
Hmm…What a bizarre and random association, you say. Well…yes. But I swear there’s a connection.
We recently took a family trip to Disneyworld and stayed in a cabin at Fort Wilderness. It was such an amazing concept to be traveling, yet not have to pack up all our stuff and move it to a different hotel for the next night. I could actually unpack all the boys’ stuff and know where to find it when we came back from the Magic Kingdom (too exhausted to remember our own names, by the way). And that’s what got me thinking…What if we could take the boys on little weekend getaways, and not have to worry about packing beforehand? What if all our stuff was already packed and ready to go? There were all of these trailer sites there at Fort Wilderness, and the idea just seemed so darn convenient. And thus, the idea to invest in a camping trailer was born. And that’s when the idea got expensive.
Somehow I managed to talk my husband into following me into this hair-brained scheme. I must admit, I was ecstatic. But the real celebration came when he ponied up and agreed to be the one to handle the sewerage issue. Bless you, my wilderness man.
And now I have written more about not-quite-camping (while saying less of actual import) than I ever thought possible. The point is that I am genuinely excited about the idea of packing into a sardine can with my favorite little guys and hauling them all over the countryside for some family togetherness time. And seeing my four-year-old proudly displaying his Junior Ranger badge brings a beaming maternal smile to my face.
Just don’t talk to me when I’m three days into five-second showers, backed up graywater, and ringing ears from the astonishing sardine-can acoustics.
So…If anyone has “don’t miss” suggestions for campgrounds with sewerage hook-ups, I’d love to hear them! And for those of you who’ve never remotely considered trailer camping…Feel free to join in the fun of this little experiment with us. (Just don’t expect to be staying in our trailer…This sardine can is at its capacity.)