Camp California

Reaching the Branches
I have a somewhat estranged family tree. My dad's eight brothers and sisters live mostly in Arkansas, my mom's family lives mostly in Miami. She has a cousin that we rarely see in California. About three years ago my youngest brother got the acting bug and decided to "pack up his stuff and move to Beverly" (picture an Audi instead of the hillbilly truck and you probably get the picture). While visiting him in LA, I try to make time to visit my second cousins in California, namely Eric. The conversation follows the same flow, Me:"When are you going to visit", Eric: "soon", Me: "When is soon?", Eric: "When work slows down and I'm not so busy".

Time passes, but the pattern remains the same, we never do anything together. I am now 31 and Eric is my senior by a few years. We are starting to realize that there is some truth to the whole 'cat in the cradle' philosophy. In our lifetime you could probably count the number of days we had spent together on one hand, and even then it was spread amongst family and events. Eric called me a few weeks ago to let me know he was flying to Nashville and asked if I wanted to drop by. After some convincing he agreed to spend a few days with me in Ringgold and fly out of the local airport. I began plotting things we could do together. I decided I was going to take Eric camping. Yes, it’s perfect, the leaves will have started to change (well, slightly anyways), we will be in the woods with plenty of time to talk and bond around the campfire. I can show him what it’s like to go hiking on a mountain instead of a surfing a wave, sleep in the woods as opposed to the beach, drink beer instead of champagne and poison ivy instead of hickies. After spending a few days here he may not prefer the south, but he may very well fear it.

Head for the Hills
I packed our equipment in a hurry and we decided to take Rocky (one of my dogs) with us. The drive was scenic, the weather perfect. I only had one air mattress and rather than ask him to share it, I decided to make the ultimate sacrifice. I stopped at a Wal Mart on the way and purchased an ‘Ozark Trail’ air mattress. Wow, what a great deal, it even came with a pump and two air pillows. We arrived around 11:00 and began unloading our equipment. It was a lot easier unloading equipment with a man. My poor wife is usually forced to carry her half of the oversized storage boxes that house the camping equipment. Camping in the middle of the week is somewhat difficult if you are a corporate soldier such as myself, however there are advantages. The entire campground was empty. We could pick any spot we wanted. I imagine that this must be what it’s like for a woman to have the entire shoe store to herself. We had our campsite set up in record time and after relaxing for a few minutes I began cooking lunch. I made two turkey brats for each of us. After eating we began a pretty rigorous hike. Again, the weather was perfect and on our four plus mile hike we did not pass a single person.


I am someone who not only prefers social settings but in fact thrives on it. I find it somewhat ironic that the effect of solitude is not only therapeutic, but increasingly necessary. The combination of fresh air, campfires and grueling labor without the distractions of the modern day allows me to return with a fresh perspective on life. Unnecessary challenges that are brought on by one’s self tend to be the most rewarding. We are in essence acting out of the need to further ourselves by the timeless method of situational reaction. We place ourselves in a situation which requires that we rise to the challenge and we almost always do. Even when we do not succeed, we are stronger for having tried and the insight we gain along the way can be as valuable as success itself. You enroll in a local marathon for charity, but it is not your drive for charity that causes you to finish. You have friends in college, but it is not your desire for friendship that causes you to finish. You climb the mountains in life not for the view from the top, but the lessons and challenges on your way there. If there was a safe elevator to the top of Mount Everest do you think the view would create the same emotions and understanding as someone who had climbed it? My father cannot understand the rationale of camping. He watches his television from the comfort of his couch while I gaze at the campfire and sleep outdoors. He reads the paper while I sit in the rain and get soaked. A life based on convenience is not the life for me. I do not imply that camping is for everyone, but to endure sacrifice only when circumstance dictates it causes one to forlorn aspiration, innovation and insight.

To my surprise Eric embraced the environment and the work that came with it. After our hike, I asked him if he would be interested in chopping some wood. Every time I chop wood, I end up with at least one huge bloody blister. I decided to alternate the chopping duty. I would chop a log then hand the axe to him. After about a half hour of this I was swinging the axe and felt a familiar sting. I didn’t need to open my palm, rather I continued to work. Fortunately Eric opted for a break shortly thereafter. I had a minor epiphany while washing my hand off. The bloody blisters that would tear open always occurred around my wedding ring. I’m not sure if this is due to the fact that it was a smaller axe, but nonetheless the fact remains. Upon returning Lindsay asked me something I had learned during the hike and I told her “When chopping wood your hands are married to the axe”. Immediately she said “Does that mean you take off your wedding ring to chop wood?”. Yes, I am very blessed to have someone who understands me so very well.

I don’t promote the drinking of beer; in fact I only have about one a week. But I can tell you that the enjoyment of said beverage is directly reliant upon the environment and circumstances in which it is consumed. After a day of setting up, hiking and chopping wood it is the proverbial mother’s milk. I can’t help but reminisce as to how cowboys must have felt after arriving in a town after traveling for a week and settling in at the saloon for a cold one. Of course the same could also be said for the brothels but you get the point. Due to my lack of planning, the Ribeye was served on a paper plate. When asked what we were having with the steaks my response was “….Coffee”. After dinner we stared into the camp fire as we discussed multiple issues and challenges that the modern 30-ish man faces; work, retirement, philosophy, politics, parents and women just to name a few. Eric is still single and after being reminded about the roller coaster that the dating game is, I was grateful to have married my better half five years ago. I continue to ponder the ideals of fatherhood and implications it brings. One can only prepare so much for such a challenge before encountering the real lessons and learning where ideals and reality failed to correlate.

I laid out a few small blankets for Rocky to sleep on and I got into my small sleeping bag on my new Wal Mart Air mattress. Two hours later I was wide awake. I was wearing a T shirt and shorts, but the bag was generally warm enough to compensate for the sudden temperature drop in the night. The airbag however had slowly drained twice and I had given up on refilling it. Rocky kept making noises that indicated he was miserable. I finally got out of my sleeping bag and stepped on cold wet blankets. The first thing that occurred to me was that he was sick and had thrown up water (he had not had any food). I felt guilty. Rocky was freezing and I didn’t even have an extra blanket or t shirt to give him. He just stared at me with those guilt inducing eyes (maybe he was just staring at my headlamp) until I gave him the wave of approval. Without hesitation he made himself comfortable at the foot of my sleeping bag. The bad news was that I now only had 4 feet of usable sleeping bag, the good news was that his weight shifted the air in the mattress such that I was off the ground for a few hours. Needless to say I was up early by myself trying to get the fire going.
I cooked breakfast and we began packing. We still had the rest of the day together and I wanted to ensure that he could checkout the downtown area before he left. I decided to avoid procrastinating the return of the mattress and return it on the way home. One could write countless observations on the clientele experience in a Wal Mart but in this case I’ll limit it to one. While waiting in line I observed two teen mothers filling out an application. Their kids were literally wrestling inside the shopping cart when one of the moms had a stroke of genius after abruptly ending her call with her mother. She simply handed her toddler her cell phone. Some people carry a pacifier or maybe talk to their kids, but with it being the modern age and all why would one bother with such a simplistic outdated approach. Perhaps she thought to herself “There are shiny buttons and a full version of tetris and brick breaker, who wouldn’t be entertained by that”. As it turns out she was right, only instead of those uses the toddler had decided to play a game of ‘Chuck the Cell’. As it slid across the floor the mother seemed confused. Fortunately she acted quickly and resolved the crisis by picking up the cell phone and …..handing it back to the child! To be fair she did say “Stop throwing it”, so it wasn’t as if she wasn’t thinking ahead. This would be the first of many poor examples that my cousin would have the misfortune of witnessing throughout the afternoon. While checking out we agreed not to discuss what we just saw. After about two minutes the pact was broken.

The Day After

After unpacking and cleaning up, we went to Aretha Frankenstein’s. It is known for having a relaxed atmosphere and serving breakfast all day. Between parking and sitting at a table outside the restaurant there was an unavoidable distraction. An item was hanging from the phone lines overhead. I glanced at it and thought “Why would anyone throw ballerina shoes over a phone line?”. We ordered breakfast and after it was delivered Eric seemed confused. “She delivered me two portions of biscuits, gravy and sausage” he said. What followed was a one way discussion on how ‘portion sizes’ less than a few pounds were ‘frowned upon’ in the South and could very likely lead to injury, destruction or at the very least, police involvement. He attempted to finish the meal, but between the three pounds of biscuits and gravy and a Guinness draft, he fell short. It was at about that point we were rubbing our stretched stomachs and the waitress standing by our table looked up and said calmly “ Hey, there’s a strap-on hanging up there”, then she asked if we were done with our plates. Our next stop was a coffee shop and I made sure that we sat inside.
Notwithstanding a few setbacks, I did feel like the visit was a success. The assumptions I had made were mostly inaccurate; he practically thrived in the woods and navigated throughout the hike, Eric : “We are currently heading southeast…correct?”, Me: “Err, umm I guess… I just follow the trail”. My two large dogs didn’t frighten him, but rather practically bonded overnight. He accompanied my dad to the biker / pool bars that I avoid. I’m not sure if he thought the Bible belt, that is the South, would be conservative, but the hanging graffiti and drivers permit moms may tell a different story. In the end I think we both got what we wanted, a bonding experience that we could recall upon with fond memories 20 years from now.