Roughing It
The wife and I have decided to become one with nature. We want to experience the forest and the grass. We want to see the wildlife. We want to sleep under the stars and breathe fresh mountain air. We want a camper.
I know. I know. Some of you may question our techniques but becoming one with nature doesn’t mean you need to light your own fires or wake up with a stick in your back. Being one with nature is having your own potty. Being one with nature is having heat and a toilet. Or maybe not.
The wife and I have used all sorts of arguments to convince ourselves it is a good idea. It costs less than a hotel room (minus the costs of the camper itself, of course). We can take the dog (when he not driving the wife insane). We can go anywhere we want (as if we were somehow restricted before). None of these arguments are as good, or even as true, as the real one: we believe it will be fun — and not just fun for the two of us. It’ll be fun for the whole family.
I should blame the brother-in-law. He really started all of this. I was happy with our tent pitching ways and he had to show us how the other half lives. It’s not like I don’t remember. I spent a large portion of my childhood camping. My parents had a 28 foot camper that was my little playground. Bunk beds housed my brothers and I in the back. My sister got the converted dining room table in the middle and my parents slept in the big bed up front. It wasn’t vacation without loading up the Cadillac and towing that monstrosity somewhere West.
My wife, on the other hand, is in unfamiliar territory. Her family didn’t spend their time on the camping circuit. Our tent is really her first tiny home away from home. This talk of camp fires is more of an adult activity and largely my doing. Her brother was the first in her family to really step up to the camping plate. It turns out we won’t be all that far behind.
See, we’re past the thinking stage. Today, we put our money where our dreams are. We bought a popup camper.
Popup campers aren’t what they used to be. Ours comes with all the features of home. Heat and air conditioning top the list. Heat lets us extend the camping season without losing a limb to frostbite. Air conditioning lets us ignore the summer forecast a bit. I won’t be sleeping in a pool of my own sweat and, more importantly, neither will my child.
The bathroom and shower are next. The bathroom isn’t a necessity for me — I can use a tree — but the wife tends to squat when she pees. Cambell won’t be dressing for a cold trip to the campsite toilet in the middle of the night. That’s a huge relief to all three of us. The shower gives us easy place to find a warm rinse off if the campsite doesn’t provide one and a convenient place to wash the child no matter what the weather.
Probably the coolest feature is that it not only bumps out (the term for the two beds that shoot out the ends of a popup) but it slides out on the side. The whole dinette pushes out to give you floor space, space that can house a pack-and-play if need be (and need be).
Other features just round out the package. The kitchen sports a stove (in addition to a second stove for the outside) and a sink. There’s a ton of storage and even a cable TV hookup, if we really want to forget that were camping. As far as popup campers go, this one is close to the top of the line.
To say we are excited is an understatement. We’re ready to hook this thing behind the Xterra. We’re ready to hit the road. We have visions of traveling far and wide. We’ll see the world! I tell ya.
Ok, we might start someplace a bit closer, like here or here. But we’ll get out there sometime. We’ll soak in the sun. We’ll visit new places and stay under the trees. And, yes, we might just listen to the light hum of the air conditioning. Ah, nature. Don’t you love it?
