The appeal of the wild for me is its unpredictability. You have to develop an awareness, react fast, be resourceful and come up with a plan and act on it.
- Bear Grylls -
I've sat around a lot of campfires although millions is a slight over-exaggeration; certainly more than I could count though. I recently read a post about camping in the outdoors and more community and it made me think about what camping has meant to me and, more specifically, my very first camping trip.
The first time I went camping wasn't in a remote wilderness area like I'm so fond of these days, and neither did I have the sort of company like my girl-person in the image above.
It was just me and my older brother, I was eight years old and the location was the field behind the homestead where I lived right behind (and probably far too close to) the massive pine trees that separated the field from the house. Yep, my first camping experience was on my parents property and it was on that camping trip my love of the outdoors really settled upon me.
We didn't have permission, I'm not sure why we didn't go ahead and ask mum and dad, they'd have said yes, but I guess there was a certain element of adventure to putting it all together, sneaking out that night and camping without permission.
We'd spent the day building the fire pit, getting firewood together, tinder, matches, making rudimentary shelter and obtaining camping utensils and food. We had cups for Milo, (like hot chocolate but different), plates and cutlery, bread, Vegemite and had even wrapped some potatoes in foil to bake in the coals. It was going to be epic and, for a lad who liked fire way too much than he should have, the fire was going to be the cherry on the top.
We learned a lot that night, such as how not to make a sustainable fire. It's not as easy as striking a match into wood you know, there's certain rules that must be followed. Fire is made by combining three elements: Oxygen, heat and fuel. If one is missing fire won't happen. Furthermore, all three must be present in the right proportions. I'm an expert at making fire now, and can do so in several different ways, but back then...I was a little puzzled.
Fire fails
The tinder (dead pine needles) would burn ok but not hot enough to keep the main fuel (wood) alight; there wasn't enough heat due to there not being enough oxygen and the fact the wood we'd chosen was far too dense; it's flashpoint was far too high for the pitiful heat we were trying to apply to it to make it work properly. I was determined though and eventually learned how to apply smaller kindling wood, twigs and things, to build up the heat but at the time I was eight years old and it took some time.
Clothing fails
It was a cold night which prompted another lesson; the right clothing. Dew settles on everything as temperatures drop at night and it can be rather uncomfortable. Sitting on the ground also draws heat from the body and without the right apparel to prevent it a little brownish eight year old body gets cold very quickly, especially with no fire. So a mission was undertaken, operation get some warmer fucken clothing from inside the house, I'm going to call it. We deployed and before long were all set, but this mission, unbeknown to us at the time, would prove our downfall.
We finally got the fire lit and, no, we didn't even pour petrol on it...that episode happened the following year, and we were starting to warm up; camping was going much better than at first it was. It was time for camp food.
Food fails
In the potatoes went to the hottest part of the fire, nicely wrapped in the aluminium foil and bread was skewered on sticks and held to the flames to toast. If you've never had butter and Vegemite on toast made over open flames then you've never really lived, and I pity you. We started chomping on the toast which turned out well and checked the potatoes; it had been a whole ten minutes or so...they weren't ready. Ten minutes later...nope. Ten minutes later...nope. Thirty minutes later, burned to a fucken crisp.
Father fails
It was about this time, I'd say around midnight but I can't be sure, that my dad decided to scare the fucken shit out of us. You see, we'd left the back door ajar when on the jacket-mission and it had banged, waking him up.
Admittedly, he'd not startled us on purpose, but he was perfectly suited to the task of stalking and surprising two unwitting kids.
He was of a much darker complexion than I am, I say was because he's gone now, and so perfectly camouflaged in the dark of night and moved like a fucken stalking panther. He jump-pounced out from behind a tree (he didn't really jump at all, or pounce) and in one of those angry, hoarse, shout-whispers said, what the fuck! He actually didn't say that at all, I never once in my life heard my dad swear, but it was something like that, without the cuss-words.
After I recovered from my heart attack and changed underpants I said, what the actual fuck dad! OK, I didn't say that but I did try to explain what we were doing and make a case for staying out overnight to continue the camping event despite the entire episode being a total fail.
We got into a lot of trouble for that camping experience, mainly for having a fire so close to those pine trees; if you've ever seen a pine tree burn you'll understand. I learned a lot though, mainly that I loved camping and that I wanted to be an outdoorsman.
It's been a long time since I was that little eight year old with an adventurous spirit; I've grown into a man and built upon that adventurous spirit feeding it through many trips to wilderness, remote and outback areas and along the way have developed the skills required to thrive there. Building fires in various ways, shelter, navigation, hunting, fishing, snares, general survival skills and, importantly, how to have a low impact upon the environment are some of the things I've learned and use to this day.
Thinking back to that night, the preparations leading up to it and the other subsequent camping adventures I had on the large rural property upon which I grew up, makes me smile with fond memories. I'm not quite sure where my love of the outdoors and camping really started, my dad wasn't that way inclined, but I'm glad it did and that I pursued that love throughout my life. Camp one, of the not quite millions to follow, holds a special place in my heart because that's where it all started.
What's been your own experiences with camping and the outdoors? Have you had similar experiences to myself or is the awesomeness of camping and the great outdoors a mystery to you? Feel free to comment below on your own experiences or in reply to my post above.
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default; tomorrow isn't promised so be humble and kind - galenkp
[All original and proudly AI free.]
Any images in this post are my own.
