So I went camping for the first time ever last weekend. Tim described it more as “party or social” camping, and not real camping. I suppose he was right…there was a nice [and clean!] bathroom just a short walk from where we set up for the night. There were 11 of us, and it was actually really fun. We sat around the camp fire, drank beer, cooked hotdogs and roasted marshmellows for s’moores. What’s camping without s’moores? The campground we stayed at was in Lake Carlyle, IL, which happens to be where Tim’s dad keeps his two sailboats. Tim, our friend Aaron, Tim’s dad and myself went out sailing for a few hours that afternoon. I got the steer the boat. I was the best captain that boat has ever had. Ha! One of Tim’s favorite spots in this country is Yosemite National Park out in California. He’s been out there twice, and wants to go again. I think I need a few more “camping” experiences before I’m ready to legitimately camp 10,000 ft up on a mountain. I’m up to the challenge though. Going “camping” made me miss Nebraska and growing up in a rural area. We actually got to see the stars the night we went camping—you don’t get that living in a city surrounded by lights and concrete. It’s the little moments [like seeing the stars again], that make me appreciate where I grew up and what I have now.
—m.