On Not Going Camping

It was 50 degrees on Saturday. The sun was shining, and we thought to ourselves: maybe we should go camping tonight! We spent a lot of time in front of the TV over the holidays, so a night unplugged out in the fresh air sounded great. It took me a little while to find an open campground online, but thankfully there was a year-round park in Maryland that allowed pets.

So we packed up our car Saturday afternoon and off we went. We barely made it to the campground before sunset, and the camp office was already closed. As we drove around to look for a spot, we were a bit dismayed. The only open sites were “full hook-up” for RVs, which meant your campsite was a cement strip with a picnic table and fire ring. No soft grass or pine needles for tent campers. The loop was also very small, with very little privacy. To top it off, they were charging everyone the price for a full hook-up site: almost $50 for one night.

After driving in circles and talking in circles, we decided to turn around and head home. This is what we did instead:


I was disappointed that we didn’t go camping. But I also felt a little bit like a wimp. Am I not hard core enough for, um, asphalt camping? Are we camping snobs?

I had a vision in my head of having the campground to ourselves: Mowgli could roam a little, we could relax around a campfire and not have to worry about neighbors and such. It is the middle of January, after all. Sleeping on asphalt directly between two large RVs did not come close to fitting my dream. And was that worth $50?

What do you think? Is all camping worth it, regardless of the backdrop?


7 thoughts on “On Not Going Camping

  1. No, camping is not bedding down between two gigantic galactic land ships, listening to them drone the night long, with their porch lights flooding your little tent. Camping is not listening to sub woofers all day, and it’s not having to pay fifty bucks to play hobo on the ground. That’s not camping and more than pitching your tent at walmart. Camping proper is freedom from these things. Patron to a tent flap with a view. and the fragrance of a thousand pine trees wafting through the tent. It is the trickling water of a wild brook, and the rising smoke from the camp fire. You did the right thing I think.

  2. Pingback: Cayo Costa State Park [Florida] | two green kayaks

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