I’ve never actually been camping.
I’ve slept in a tent in my parent’s backyard (which is kind of in the middle of nowhere). And I’ve gone to a camp where we slept in tents. And there is probably some other experience camping-related that has slipped my mind.
But I’ve never carried a pack, gone into the woods or down a river, and camped out. I’ve built many fires, but never built one for the sole purpose of staying warm or cooking dinner.
I’ve wanted to go camping for quite awhile. It’s on my 30 before 30 list, because it is something that I would really like to do! But somehow, I’ve never actually gone.
Why haven’t I? Well, it just never seems to work out. When my few friends that do camp plan trips, I always seem to be busy with some other commitments. And then there is the fact that nearly every guy I have dated always promises they will take me camping. At least five different guys have vowed they would be the first to introduce me to camping. These guys promise the Wichita Mountains or the Illinois River or Turner Falls. They promise tents and sleeping bags, foil dinners and s’mores.
It’s been six years since the first guy promised. And I’ve still never been.
Maybe that’s how I’ll know when I’ve met the right guy. When he actually follows through and takes me camping.
But who knows when that will be.
So I’m going to take matters into my own hands and plan a trip myself! Now I just need to figure out where, when, and who all will go with me…