I go camping a lot. Not once a year, not some Instagram weekend warrior nonsense. I mean multiple times a year, like I’m trying to slowly become a forest cryptid. At this point, I trust trees more than people, and honestly, the trees have earned it.
We’ve got a camper, because I’ve done the whole “sleep on the ground and question my life choices at 3 a.m.” phase. I’m not 22 anymore. My back has opinions now. The camper is the perfect middle ground. Still outdoors, still smells like campfire and questionable decisions, but I also get a real bed and don’t wake up feeling like I got hit by a truck driven by Mother Nature.
It’s me, my wife, and the three dogs. That’s the crew. No fancy filters, no curated moments. Just chaos on four legs and one mildly organized adult trying to keep it all from turning into a Discovery Channel episode. Jersey, the Saint Bernard, thinks she owns the campsite. Larkin, the Belgian Malinois, is basically on tactical patrol 24/7 like we’re guarding national secrets instead of a cooler full of hot dogs. And Aldo, the Miniature Pinscher, is convinced he’s the toughest thing in a 10-mile radius. Delusional confidence. Respect, honestly.
Camping with dogs is not peaceful. Anyone who tells you that is lying or heavily medicated. It’s barking at squirrels, chasing absolutely nothing, and trying to figure out how three animals can all want to sit on you at the exact same time. But it’s real. No phones glued to faces, no pointless noise. Just fire, dirt, and the kind of quiet you forgot existed.
And yeah, there’s something about sitting by a fire at night that messes with your head a little. In a good way. Like the universe is just barely paying attention, and you get this weird sense that none of the daily nonsense matters. Bills, work, all that garbage. Out there, it’s just you, the people you chose, and whatever bigger thing is quietly running the show behind the scenes.
I don’t camp to “get away.” I camp because it feels more like where I’m supposed to be. The rest of life just kind of interrupts it.
Runs on caffeine, mild irritation, and a borderline unhealthy dependence on tech, automations, and anything that saves time or brainpower. Would rather be camping or geocaching with GPS in hand than dealing with people, but still shows up, optimizes the chaos, and keeps everything running like a system that somehow never crashes.