I suppose since I have a bed that is off the ground, a table to eat at and a naphtha stove, it qualifies more as an episode of pioneer days than camping; after all, we have an outhouse that is built of hardwood no less with a padded toilet seat; a water jug with a hand pump, so the water runs if you work at it a little (not warm mind you, but running nonetheless) and we have lights: Coleman naphtha and my beloved kerosene lanterns.(I put one in the outhouse just to bug Jarrett!)
Still I am sure that a long weekend at our cabin in October would be more or less torture for anyone else but like minded ancient throw backs like ourselves. My mother never understood my passion for the outdoors; she went as far as to say that "she had no idea where I came from!" (conveniently forgetting that she was raised in rural Newfoundland in the 1930's") My father liked camping, especially bluegrass campouts, but given his propensity toward cleanliness, he needed a trailer with at least a warm shower. my sisters idea of camping included an outlet for a curling iron. So when I found out that Max shared my love of the outdoors and shedding the comforts of modern life--at least for awhile--I was ecstatic. when the boys were young we camped in tents. indeed, 3 weeks after having a Caesarian birth for Connor we went tenting at Max's sisters property. it rained all weekend and Connor echoed the rain by crying all night. I suppose I should have taken that as an omen and a comment on Connor's future opinion of camping! I asked Max to leave in the mornings torrential rainstorm and my brother in law asked me if I was a fair weather camper! No not fair weather camper; just a fresh post operative one!
I am not sure if there is one particular part of camping or being at our property that draws me to it or that I like more than others. Part of is that it was a manageable and inexpensive way to travel with young children in the beginning. once we realised that tenting with Connor and a wheelchair was problematic at best, we were blessed by the best Christmas present ever: a small Boler trailer given to our by Max's dad one Christmas. these fibreglass eggs were manufactured to be towed by small cars. the flyer for them tells you that they sleep 4. I will tell you that it technically does; practically, you have to be very small people, and small is a word that is rarely used to describe us. But, as always, we were happy with what we had and loaded that little trailer up to its ceiling sometimes. by the time Jarrett was 10 he had opted for his own tent, having fallen out of the top bunk in the trailer one too many times.
we started camping in Nipissing at a friends campground when Connor was 7. the first time we went, we were meeting up with my dad for a bluegrass campout. as soon as I arrived, I felt like I had come home. I began a quest to find a piece of property that we could afford, that was on some kind of water and that was suitable for Connor. 5 years later we had it. "The Property" I suppose that I should have come up with some kind of fanciful name like Linda's lucky valley or Steele's shaingrala, but some how, "the property" fit and stuck. it was 2 acres of former farm land with 150 frontage on a year round road. it backed onto a large creek that fed into a river. there was a wheelchair accessible government dock on the river, with a level driveway and boat launch, perfect for driving a boat or wheelchair right to the water and therefore perfect for Connor. Since it was originally a farm, for the most part it was level and an easy drive in for him; only the valley to the creek was steep but since we could access the water from the dock it was perfect! at least that is how it seemed to me.
by the time we got it, my father had passed away and never got to see it, but I like to think he might of approved. My mother was sure that I had lost my mind and told me as much and as often as she could. although we offered to take her up many times to see it, she always had excuses and would not come. Probably because her idea of camping involved room service at the Holiday inn.
I did manage to get my mother in law and sister in laws up for a visit once. we rented a housekeeping cottage down the road from the property and took them over for a visit. My Mother in law raised her eyebrows, which said her opinion loud and clear. One sister in law was concerned how steep it was--luckily I had made sure there was a level government dock at the end of our road with a boat launch--so steepness was not an issue.
Ironically, it was Max's dad that loved ti the best and spent weekends camping with us; but then again, he has always been the roughest of the bunch. My best friend Diana, shook her head and said she thought it would be way too much work and she was afraid that we would regret it. (I reminded her of this when we had our 10th anniversary campout there!)
those 10 years involved family holidays, weekends with the Youdelis' and time with just Max and I on our own.
Jarrett was in heaven and lets just say, as with the bluegrass festivals, Connor was a good sport. When the kids were teenagers, camping definitely had a more urban flavor. Diana and Grant docked their boat there and days involved volleyball, margaritas , fondue dinners and late night trivial pursuit games. Grant and Diana traveled with a 5000 watt generator that Grant commented had only ever been fired up for toasters and blenders in 5 years. Definitely not pioneer style. one of the most memorable trips was just before Connor
So now, once again it is the two of us. we try to come up as often as possible but it is never enough for me. I truly believe I would live in the wilderness if it was possible. I cannot say what appeals to me the most. i love the privacy and the feeling that we are the only people in the world. could be my xenophobia coming out. I like how there are few distractions to take me away from the important things that I want to do. I like that there is no rushed feeling; that I should be moving or accomplishing something more important. but mostly, i like how hard I have to work and plan for the simplest things like doing dishes: get the water from the spring, get the stove going, heat the water and pour it over the dishes and wash. you have to plan, think and work just to get dishes done. (don't even get me started on how I cooked a thanksgiving dinner!) I appreciate those clean dishes and even the hot water ten times more than I do at home just turning on a tap or a knob on the dishwasher.
Perhaps what I love most about the property is that it helps me recognize all the reasons that I am OK with being a square peg in a round hole of today's world. I cognitively acknowledge that without today's modern technology Connor's world would be ridiculously difficult and his successes would be nearly impossible. but that comes at a high price tag such as a panic attack when the rogers wireless network crashed. our instant, disposable effortless world has yielded us a life that results in less time together, more work hours and less play time. I would not want to return to a time of famine, disease and poverty nor would I trade my rights as a women and be someones work horse or piece of chattel. However, when those pressures of today's world become too much for this less than modern girl, I know where my retreat is: The Property and camping.
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