My First Time Camping: A Short Pandemic Travel Story
This was it for my travels this year. Stay in the country. Stay away from people. Stay far away from Miami. Stay outdoors. Camping in northern Michigan it is.
I’ve never gone camping. I’ve always wanted to. It’s been on my travel bucket list for years, but I guess not high enough on that list. It only took a pandemic and closed borders to get it crossed off.
I had no idea what I was doing. As much I love nature, the city is forever ingrained in me. I just showed up with a blanket, pillow and toothbrush. My sister, brother-in-law and their friends took care of the details—like water and food. Thank God.
I helped Mateo build the tent like I’ve done this before. “Yea, this goes there.” I helped my sister collect firewood and then took pictures of her struggling to send my parents. “We’d be so fit if we were forest girls.” I did a lot of helping and very little doing.
The sun set. The fire was lit. I guess the camping had officially commenced.
We sat around the campfire and sang songs like SpongeBob’s “Campfire Song Song” and that West Virginia Take Me Home song. I didn’t know the lyrics. I just sat there cross legged swaying side to side like this was nostalgic for me or something. We made s’mores. I replaced the Hershey’s for my gourmet Theo’s because I’m camping, but still a food snob. I played a little Arlo McKinley and got everyone in a depressing heartbreak mood. We put the SpongeBob song back on—but not before Alex and I played one reggaeton song to remind us we’re not THAT American.
We talked about our international travels to Japan, Sweden, and Taiwan. We talked about past relationships and why they didn’t work out. I made new friends with my sister's friends.
I drank fizzy water out of a koozie which somehow made me feel better about my sobriety in that moment. Apparently, canned fizzy water in koozies is the feel good moment everyone needs this year. We grilled veggie burgers and fresh pineapple and put them together for the ultimate camping dinner. One of the most divine combinations of flavors my tastebuds have ever experienced. My new friends cut half of a lime drenched watermelon into bite-sized cubes and I felt so damn spoiled. I ate a bowl of perfectly ripened cherries and spit the pits out without worrying about the mess I was making. I did not expect to eat so damn good and feel so damn free.
Around midnight, we all snuggled up in the tent. I didn’t shower. Nobody showered. I didn’t bother changing into pajamas. I did, however, brush my teeth with a bottle of water. I felt just wild enough. It was so incredibly refreshing.
I fell asleep on my back, one hand on my heart, the other on my belly. I took long deep breathes, exhaling what no longer serves me, inhaling Mama Earth’s energies of compassion, patience and forgiveness. I fell asleep in Her arms.
l slept like a literal log. It rained just hard enough all night. I didn’t even wake up once to pee. I hadn’t slept that hard in months.
The next morning I took a walk in the woods. I got a little lost, but not too lost. I did some light yoga to readjust my sore back. I hugged a few trees. I took a cold shower. I felt like the wild woman that I am.
They packed up the details. I packed up my blanket, pillow and toothbrush. I guess that’s it—that’s camping. When can I do that again? I now know to bring water and food.
