“Let’s go camping for vacation this year!” I was five months pregnant with the Middle One. The oldest was two. Kent and I hadn’t been camping since the first year we were married. We’d camped at lots of places just the two of us, but this would be our first venture with kids. We had all the equipment-stove, lantern, backpacks, and a three person tent. We were excited to introduce the Oldest to the great outdoors. This would be a good low budget family vacation and, with it being springtime, the weather would be great at our favorite camping spot, The Great Smoky Mountains. “Sure, that’s a great idea!”
Friends of ours found out we were going and talked us into borrowing their huge tent. “It’ll be great for your little one to play in. We haven’t used it for a while, but it should be fine.”
I made our standard camping snacks–chocolate chip cookies and brownies–prepped some easy meal choices, made trail mix, and we loaded up the car and headed for the mountains anticipating cool evenings, campfires, roasted marshmallows, smores, and a few easy hikes beside cool clear rushing streams.
The trip up was uneventful. We got a good campsite and a big bundle of firewood, set up camp, and settled down for a week of relaxation in the wilderness. The Oldest followed us around and wanted to help with everything. Kent has a system for starting a campfire where he stacks the wood just so. She thought that was the best, and proceeded to dismantle the stack as fast as her dad could get it set up. Finally, he managed to convince her that it needed to stay in the fire pit and they got the fire started. We made supper and sat around the fire listening to the wind high up in the trees.
Then, the wind began to pick up. It blew harder. And harder. We started to worry that our campfire would send sparks into the brush and set the woods on fire so we finally doused it and turned in for the night.
Sometime during the night, it began to rain. Now rain in the Smokies is part of the experience. They get their name from the foggy mist that hangs over all or part of them much of the time. Fall is the driest time to go, and the campgrounds aren’t open in the wintertime, but as long as you’re prepared for rain, spring and summer are still great times to go camping.
I tend to like to rough it, but Kent is a happier camper if we take the air mattress. It sprung a leak the first night and started to feel a little like a hammock, but we were at least off the ground. We had our pool lounge chairs to stretch out in around the campsite as well. These, and the many plastic containers I’d brought food in, proved useful as the rain got harder and the top of the tent began to leak profusely.
By the middle of the night, the Oldest was sleeping on top of me on one of the lounge chairs and Kent was in his sleeping bag on the double-folded air mattress. I’d relocated the contents of every plastic container I could find in order to use the container to catch the drips from the top of the tent.
In the morning, the rain stopped and the sun came out. We rolled out of our damp sleeping bags, repurposed the plastic containers, and bailed about two inches of water out of the bottom of the tent. After breakfast, we drove into Galtlinburg and bought two rolls of plastic sheeting which Kent stretched over our tent and staked down on all four sides. It was not the most environmentally friendly campsite, and not the most aesthetic-especially that next day with all our stuff hanging on clotheslines, but we stayed dry and cozy the rest of the week. Emergency plastic sheeting became a camping staple from then on.
That first outing we were definitely on a learning curve, but we stuck it out and had a great time. As our family grew, “Let’s go camping for vacation this year,” was a regular request. Most spring breaks and several times during the rest of the year we were at one of the state parks, the beach, or the Smoky Mountains. Even rain didn’t dampen our enthusiasm, though I do remember one particular spring break trip that ended early with the kids and me soaking wet in the car watching Kent pack the rest of the campsite up because he was the only one who had packed a rain suit. Our dog, a black lab that was afraid of the water, was still on his leash beside a tree watching anxiously and probably thinking, “Please don’t forget the dog.” Thing was, everything else had to go in the truck before his crate, so he had to tough it out until that was done.
Some of my best family memories are camping memories, of times spent reading around the campfire, playing board games, riding bikes, and hiking trails. We traveled many miles, unplugged from the TV and tech, and had some great times together. We connected with our kids and strengthened our relationships. If I could go back and change it, I wouldn’t change a thing, even the rain.
“Let’s go camping for vacation this year.” The grands are getting old enough to camp. They already love setting the tent up in the back yard. We’re figuring out how to make it happen. Now, if we can just find a good dry weekend for the first big camping trip, we’ll be all set.
Have a great summer! Hope you get to go camping!
Be safe. Be well. Be blessed.
