Uh, camping we did go

Thanks to the unhappy marriage of a course of antibiotics and a week in the Utah sun, I am now reluctant host to a full-body rash, most of which* is invisible but has left my skin sandpapery and feeling like I am being pricked all over by needles and occasionally assaulted by millions of invisible mosquitoes. I’m in a great mood!

(* the part which is not invisible is on the backs of my knees and looks like my skin has actually been removed by sandpaper, which is grotesque, and renders any kind of skirt/shorts-wearing exquisitely painful, and did you know that bandages will not stay on the backs of your knees? I have tried to keep them there, but all the bending and flexing that I apparently do all day long makes them drop right off; I’ve tried to remain still but they won’t stick on for more than a few minutes, so anyone who ever walks behind me gets an eyeful of my awful knee-back situation.)

We were in Utah for a few days to visit my brother-in-law and family, who, inexplicably, live in Utah, even though they swear they’re not Mormon. The kooks. It’s unnerving that they have chosen to live in the middle of the country —I always believed that only zombies would live somewhere that didn’t abut an ocean—but they seem to like it. And my niece and nephew never tried to eat my brains. Maybe they were being polite.

And we went camping! I have never been camping before**, and my brother-in-law Gregg and his wife Carolyn invited us to camp with them, because camping is among their favorite activities, right up there with nude-wrestling bears (probably) and mouth-fishing (after they’re done with the bears).

(**I said this to my mom and she murmured, “Not that you remember.” I’m going to assume she meant I was too little to recall the last time I camped. I think that’s for the best, if I go ahead and assume that. We can’t afford any more therapy for me.)

I was really excited to camp, as I have always wanted to. Camp. For years I've been telling Scott that we should go camping, but he insisted that I would hate it. “You would hate it,” he said. He wouldn’t even bother telling me why. When I asked him to list the possible reasons I would hate camping, he just stared at me, like it was so obvious, it was all over my damned face. Was he focused on the fake eyelashes I need to apply each morning? The exquisitely hot-rollered hairdo? The floor-length satin house-robe I was wearing, as I do each day in the early hours—from 1 pm, when I arise, until sundown—at which point I change into my evening silk pajamas?

“Now, dear,” I said, “I love nature, and nature loves me, and I know deep in my heart that I will enjoy this ‘camping’ I’ve heard tell of.” And then I flounced about comically and powder-puffed my décolletage.

We were supposed to go camping for two nights, which didn't seem like nearly enough time, to me. Why not longer? But then after the first night I had to tell Gregg and Carolyn, with great regret, that if we stayed there for one more night I was going to cram my pockets with stones and throw myself in the river. (We were right next to a river.) (Maybe it was a stream. I think technically it was a stream.)

They took it well.

I actually did enjoy camping, during the daylight. I did! We were in this beautiful campground, and there was even a bathroom, and I am a fan of bathrooms. We relaxed and wandered and ate dinner, and I like all of those things. Henry was having fun checking out nature, and I felt like we were good parents for once, giving him this well-rounded experience. The country! UTAH!

Then it came time to sleep, and so we all bundled up, as it was getting cold, and Scott and Henry and I smushed our bodies into our sleeping bags, and zipped up our tent. So we could go to sleep.

It then occurred to me, as I tried to sleep, why camping is a bad idea. First of all it is uncomfortable. You are sleeping on the ground. Why would you do that? Secondly, if you can’t sleep, what do you do all night? All you can do is lie there. You lie there, and you think. Mostly you think about how the only thing keeping you from being murdered is someone else’s decision not to murder you. At any point during the night someone could drive through the campground—a murderer, say—and that person could think, “Say, what if I murdered these people, all defenseless in their thin, easily knifed-through tent?” And they could then murder you, and there would be very little you could do to stop them. So really all you can do is hope the murderer then thinks, “Nah,” and drives on. Or, “Maybe another day,” or, “Wouldn’t want to ruin that nice tent,” or “I’ve already done enough murdering this week.” (Do murderers ever decide they’ve done enough murdering? I’m not so sure. I’ve never asked a murderer, nor do I ever intend to. And imagining that some traveling murderer has already reached his murder-quota is not enough to help me drift into unconsciousness.)

So then you realized that you’ve thought the word “murder” enough that you will never sleep, and you’re stuck in this tent and there’s nothing to do because 1) it’s dark and 2) it’s cold, and that’s when your child sleep-stumbles around the tent and lies back down the entirely wrong way, which is across all three pillows. And you fight with him about how he has to get back in his sleeping bag, only you can’t fight with a sleeping child, who is crying that you don’t understand and the armor doesn’t work the other way when the raccoons broke the barber shop, lettuce zephyr quantum noodles, and finally you heave him back into his sleeping bag and he sobs once and then is instantly snoring peacefully but now you’re really awake, as is your husband, who every time you stir at all says, “You still up?!” like maybe you two can have a party, but you can’t have a party; all you can do is try and sleep, so you don’t want to talk or look at his wide-awake eyes looking back at you, so you squeeze your eyes shut, at which point you realize you have to use the bathroom.

Which means you have to 1) find the flashlight, 2) put shoes on, 3) not get murdered. And then you think that if you were home, or in a hotel like a sane person, you would not have to do any of these things, and that is why one night of camping is more than enough.

But if we could find a murder-proof tent, and I'm sure you can buy one of those, I think I would enjoy camping very much. So there, SCOTT.

Comments

[Susan]

Camping - ugh! I'm with you. Great in theory, hideous in reality. Glad you survived the elements and that no murderers came your way.

[Jocelyne]

I find camping much more enjoyable when my sleeping bag is *zipped together* with my husband's so I can actually poke him effectively during the night, just like at home.

Murder-proof tents, though... I think you have a market there.

[Melissa K]

I love camping, but my #1 rule is: Sleeping pills are a must for the first night. Right behind that is cots are essential. Otherwise, everything you said above occurs, and then I hate camping. After the first night, being out in the fresh air 24/7 seems to kick in and then I can sleep like a baby for the remainder of the trip. If you try it again (and you should!), either bring something to help you sleep or a very large bottle of wine.

[Pink Ronnie]

Loved this.

My husband had a five year plan of getting me into bushwalking and camping (we live in the great land down under after all) but so far to no avail. We did do it once though. The air was so filled with mosquitoes that we could hardly eat our dinner without something flying into our mouthes. Needless to say, my husband has never really dared ask me to go camping again.

[Golden]

lol! At least it was cold. I don't understand those who go camping when it's 90-100 degrees during the day and very humid about not much less than that at night. No way.

[Sarah]

My husband keeps trying to convince me that camping would be *a great idea* and *so much fun*.
I'll roast marshmallows in the front yard all he wants but there is no way I'm actually camping.

[Sit At My Table]

Oh, Alice.

I laughed so hard that you probably heard it across the ocean. No, the OTHER ocean.

Also, I believe that this shall be my new motto, as it is applicable to any and all situations:

And then I flounced about comically and powder-puffed my décolletage.

So thanks for that.

[Aimee@greeblemonkey.com]

Living in Colorado, everyone assumes I camp all the time. Um, no.

However, I do love Moab, Utah, and have camped there several times on the Colorado riverbanks under the stars. That *was* really nice.

[Kristi]

You are the funniest writer on the internet.

Yes, I have done the research.

[Zina]

I have to agree with Kristi.

I'd be more scared of being murdered in an apartment in New York than a tent in Utah. So you are very brave in your own way. (But I'm also glad you moved from your last residence/crime-scene-in-progress.)

I have a similar one-night Utah camping story, except mine involves the limited capacity of a pregnant Mormon woman's bladder. (Also, two years later I see the story could use some tight editing, but, oh well.) Here's the link.

Speaking of editing, my 10-year-old is somewhat shocked that I typed the word bladder, particularly on a Sunday.

[MarthaB]

Freaking hilarious.

[Peggy S Brister]

I've never been camping before either but I told my son that I would try to go camping with him this fall when the Boy Scouts go camping again. I don't even own a tent or sleeping bag. I am going to have to buy all the gear and hope it all fits in the trunk of a Cadillac. Pfftt. I know, right! The whole murderer aspect of it though, I think will have me sleepless too. Not so much before I read this blog post, but definitely NOW that you so vividly discussed it. Thanks for that! :) I will have to take some type of sleep aid and then just hope there's no middle of the night Boy Scout emergency where they need me to be up and alert before 10am.

[Susan]

hate camping very much. stupid sport. more on that here:

http://mamanongrata.com/?p=265

[Jen]

I've only camped a few times, but I think the murdererthoughts are just a part of the whole experience (a FEW times, I said, and only with more experienced camper friends).

It is true that the second night is better, because by then you are so tired from not only being awake, but rigid with fear, for the first night that it makes you sleepy. Sleepy enough that you sort of just figure, oh well, just kill me!

Also, claustrophobia and tents? Ick. I have to have a jackknife near me so that I can convince myself I could cut my way out of the tent were to fall in and suffocate me.

[Kelsey]

I have been camping several times in the past. In fact I have been one to two adults to take a dozen teenagers camping - then you're kind of hoping THEY don't decide to murder you in the middle of the night.

I would like to camp with my children, I do believe it's a good experience for kids even if the sleeping is heniously uncomfortable, but that will make me the most experienced camper in our group - not sure I can handle that.

[Jessica]

Hilarious! Thank you for this one Alice, I laughed out loud.

[Pamela]

EXACTLY...

[Susan]

Yes Finslippy, yes!

[Camilla]

Murder-proof tent made me laugh. Great story and great writing!

[EmLouisa]

Oh man. I hear you on the not sleeping thing. My problem is not the murderers, it is the "critters". I always imagine that that scratchy sound on the other side of the tent is a very large bear, or perhaps a mountain lion with a voracious appetite. I spend all night freaking myself out.

My camping secret? CABINS. You can chill outside all day long but when night falls there you are with your dial up internet and no garbage disposal. Totally roughing it in my book.

Glad you had a fantastic time in Utah. I'm actually headed there next month for a family reunion. We are camping too. And not in cabins. I pray that I will not be murdered/maimed by ANYTHING, including small game animals.

[Zina]

I can't believe I forgot about bears. Three or four years I was trying to come up with an excuse not to camp with our kids and my husband's extended family, and then it was in the news that TWO local kids in TWO separate locations got killed by bears within about a two-week period. One of the locations was where we were to have camped. We didn't go, that year.

But the bears are still out there . . .

[Katie]

I camped once. We somehow have not made our way back. I think because we've realized we prefer premium bedding and bathrooms.

[Zombie (clearly.)]

Yeah, see, there's this awful Bill Kurtis special about a family that was camping in a national park, and while a freight train was going by, a murderer cut a hole in their tent, stole their daughter, and killed her. And that, right there, ended any dreams I ever might have had of ever camping EVER.

(also: sigh. you're not one of those people who uses the phrase Flyover Country are you? it's really narrow-minded. Kind of like my attitude towards camping. but anyway.)

[Zina]

Just checked my facts and I guess it was just one death (but I think more than one attack) by black bear in the summer of 2007 in Utah. It was an 11-year-old boy dragged from his tent and killed. Apparently his parents were too inebriated to fight off the bear. (So much for sleep aids?)

The odds of this are of course much less than being murdered, and much, much less than dying in a car accident, or drowning, etc. But feel free to cite this story next time you're invited to camp.

[Zina]

P.S. Let's panic about bears! And itinerant murderers!

[Erin]

All these comments are reminding me of why my husband and I are taking our 4-month-old camping in a few weeks: you have to camp all your life to really enjoy it. You have to start young so you can be toughened up against the Weird Things That Happen at Night While Camping. Then when you're awake late at night, you can say to yourself, Well, Self, remember the night you were 9 and it was so windy that your family added up their combined weights and decided that a 300+ pound tent wouldn't blow away? Remember the night you were 12 and you got in a 2-person sleeping bag with two other Girl Guides to keep from freezing in the April rainstorm in British Columbia? Remember the night you were 29 and your husband catapulted himself out of the tent to defend your food from raccoons, and then you stayed awake for several hours listening to trees blow down in the campsite? Nothing bad happened those times, so you will be fine now, too. (And yes, I know this reasoning sounds illogical, but it's not any more illogical than staying up all night worrying about murderers - because really, how many Campsite Rippers do you hear of? - and this way, you get more sleep.)

[Renee]

I am glad you did not get murdered.

[Orion]

I slept in a tent with bloody clothes and a fresh killed moose strung up outside.
We also hung a sign that stated, "BEARS! Free meat! Also, burritos in the tent."

[ladykay]

A murder-proof tent with a bathroom.

[ladykay]

@Orion: I can't stop laughing at "...burritos in the tent."

[punctured bicycle]

I have loved camping and I have hated camping, and I think maybe it is not the sort of thing that improves with age (although the 17-year-old camper I was would envy my easy access to alcohol).

Earplugs, eyemask, antihistamines, windup radio, inflatable mattress, popup tent - none of these items is optional. Alcohol has a role as a sleeping/humour/indifference aid, but there is all the peeing and grumpiness it will leave in its wake.

I laughed out loud, and then I thought, "Ooh, delicious quantum noodles." It's almost lunchtime.

[vb]

Hahahaha. Yup. Camping has a sharp learning curve. This is how you go the first time:
In a backyard (bathroom access + no murder)
Sleeping pill a must
Earplugs
Aero beds + flannel bed linens (very Ralph Lauern looking)
Campfire (to look at if you can't sleep)
Book + book light (ditto)

Try again like this & I promise you will at least not hate it. Our 5 yr old boy is now all about the camping, which makes me happy because I never had that growing up...

[Jan]

LOL. Best laugh I've had for a while. Strange, but I've never worried about murderers in the wilderness. Why would they bother to go to some deserted out-of-the-way spot? No, I think of sleeping under the stars and I'm convinced there must be little bugs crawling over my face. I lay awake listening to mosquitoes buzzing around, waiting anxiously for them to find a tender morsel(which would have to be me because my husband is a tough outdoors-man). I listen to crunching noises outside the tent (which might be bears poking around our site because they couldn't find left-overs elsewhere).
The bathroom problem when you are camping? I like four-star hotels. I really like four-star hotels. As one friend said, "My idea of roughing it when there is no room service." This was my dream before I married a man who seriously believes there's no need for a bathroom because you have the great outdoors. His idea is to camp so far away from civilization that you are officially listed as lost.
I had to insist at least on a campground that had hot showers and bathrooms, and that obviously is still not my top choice. There is nothing worse than getting up in the middle of the night, having to get on all your clothes, and stumbling through the dark with a flash light, hoping you can find some distant building without wandering down the wrong path. Then, (assuming your are lucky) you must relocate your campsite in the pitch-black night. This is when I think again about getting lost, or running into that bear. Or maybe a murderer. Hmmmm.... I'm back to liking four-star hotels.

[rebeccanyc]

Went camping for 2 weeks last summer. Had an aerobed in a very large tent, with pillows, sheets and blankets. Very civilized. (I can't do sleeping bags...too claustrophobic) What we did not consider was the wind (we were near the Pyrenees in France) which MY GOD made me hope for a murderer to come put us out of our misery.

[Nora]

See, this is why I love camping on Angel Island in the San Francisco Bay: The largest animals on the island are deer, the rustling in the middle of the night is raccoons, and no murderer worth his salt is going to spend $15 to ride the ferry when there's a whole city-full of murderable people right effing there (or three, if you count Oakland and Berkeley). So all you have to worry about is forest fires.

[LOD]

I think I've read that The Awful Knee-Back Situation is a new character for Season 2 of Jersey Shore.

[Jennifer]

SO FUNNY! I tried to read this aloud to my husband, but couldn't because I was laughing so hard. I loathe camping for so many reasons.

[Sheryl]

Ha! That was hysterical!

Were there no bugs? Bugs are usually the WORST!

[DeNae]

Just walked through the door from camping for four days in Utah. That's right: I left my home in Las Vegas that has air conditioning and a swimming pool and murderer-proof doors to go sleep on the ground and get so blown on I'm pretty sure a house landed on the witch in the next camp site. But we also tooled around in my BIL's boat and I didn't do laundry or answer e-mail and I only had one tantrum the whole time. So I'm pretty darn proud of myself.

[Margaret]

I'm pretty sure that most people who love camping have never stayed in a really nice hotel.

Zina: Your logic is flawed. There are a billion apartment buildings in New York City, and each has approximately a thousand units. A murderer will never make it up to the 32nd floor of my building--he'll find someone much better to murder on the way up. There are, what, four campsites in Utah? The odds are with being murdered in your pup tent in Utah.

[victoria]

Yeah. Darkness is the bad thing about camping. I think that's why we alsways used to pack in a lot of whiskey (even though it's very heavy): it gives you something to do when the sun goes down, and helps ensure that you pass out at least for a while.

[melissa]

What you need is a camper. Hard sided, bathroom containing, heat/air filled camper. That makes all the difference. Much like a hotel, but you do all the cleaning and cooking. So...much like home. with bugs. I guess I'm not necessarily recommending it.

[Kristine]

And that pretty much sums up my camping experiences as well, only with a manic 5 year old and an 8 month old at the time.

Never again. Never again.

[Guera!]

I think this is THE funniest thing you have ever written. It's a keeper. And Hey! I commented. I have to be stirred deep inside to comment. MY comments are not to be taken lightly! I loved this. It's going to be printed and framed.

[Olivia]

I've never quite understood camping. Why would you go out into the wilderness all the while trying to mock the accommodations you already have at home? Some people go all out by bringing a television and DVD. Do they not know they have those things at home? That they can enjoy without hauling all of their crap up and down the mountain?

[Lisa K]

I always say that we build building so that we don't have to sleep outside.

I was really grumpy yesterday. Then I read your camping story. And then I wasn't grumpy anymore! So, thanks =D

[Amber]

I come from a long line of hard-core campers and even they swear by air mattresses. It will seriously save the trip.

[SCJ]

Camping is a Holiday Inn.

[Reid]

The best reason to camp is to tell stories about it afterward. When you run out of stories, you have to go camping again. I once (once!) went backpacking; a single overnight. No bathrooms. Gear includes a small spade for you-know-what. The ladies on the trip were all exceedingly grateful to find they did not need to make use of the small spades. I doubt I will ever go backpacking again...

[elsimom]

I had a friend (also from New York) who asked his girlfriend from Iowa, on a visit to meet her family who took one look at a gigantic acres and acres corn field and asked: "How do they keep people from stealing the corn?"
BAHAHAHAH. I bet he would love a murder-proof tent.
You crack me up.