As a child, my parents used to take my two sisters and me on camping trips. We started out camping at Malaekahana and then eventually moved over to Waimanalo. These trips were pretty fun since we got to be at the beach all day, but the cold showers and sleeping on the ground sans pillow were pretty awful. Camping is not my favorite thing.
I have been able to dodge the camping invitations pretty well as an adult, but my streak of denial came to end this Memorial Day weekend. Our friends invited us to camp at the Coloma Resort in Coloma, California, and they were able to weaken my resolve and I gave in. Of course, knowing that there would be hot showers and seeing the word "resort" in the campground name helped.
Despite the prospect of hot water and bathrooms, I was still nervous about the whole thing. When given a choice, I will always choose my own bed or a hotel over camping; and I just don't enjoy being so close with nature. Bugs are not my thing, and I hate lizards. To deal with the anxiety, I turned to planning: food, lanterns, batteries, cookies, Costco, anything. Eventually the planning lead to something else--I was actually excited to go camping.
Turns out, camping at Coloma was pretty awesome. We went for two nights and three days, and it was not roughing it at all. I got to sleep on an air mattress, use decently clean facilities and shower in hot water. As we were driving, I realized with amazement that this was the first time I had ever taken a pillow camping (my parents did not allow pillows while camping). I did bring home bruised knees and scratched legs from my adventure in the American River. As well as a decently sliced finger; the result of a skirmish with a beer bottle that did not want to go in the recycling bin.
I am not-so-secretly proud of myself for making it through the camping trip and keeping my complaints to a minimum.
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