 | “This isn’t ideal!” |
I had a lot of reading scheduled so escaping to the wilderness seemed like the right thing to do until this happened.
I love to camp, and Colorado provides the ideal setting. As a local, I’m particular. I eschew formal campgrounds, insisting on free range picturesque sites by creeks and hiking trails with 5-star scenic overlook finales. This weekend was no different.
Pickings are slim that meet my specs without a several hour drive. So I set out for a local standard hoping to stake claim to a particular spot popular with others who shared similar aspirations.
My favorite roost was occupied, but undeterred I eyed another isolated clearing that could have hosted me beautifully for three days. Problem was, the creek separated my van from the mossy gap that beckoned me.
I don’t pack light.
It took me an hour to haul my equipment, piece by piece across precariously seated stones that offered me passage. Well after nightfall, I realized my heavy cooler still sat packed by my camp table and I routinely stored all my food in my vehicle.
Overnight bear feeding was my worst nightmare.
Next in rank was attempting to cross a swift creek at night and landing in frigid waters soaking my only jeans, hiking shoes and down coat needed to ensure a toasty night snuggled in my tent.
Yes, that scenario happened.
Confidence shaken, alone and bruised, I stripped out of my wet clothes and mused, “This isn’t ideal!”
That phrase has grown to be a comfort to me. My husband and I speak those words to one another when one of our children meltdown creating scenes that used to humiliate us or leave us feeling demoralized. It’s not ideal, but it is ok. We will get through this season, and so will you.
This morning I’m enjoying the campfire in my dry flannel pajamas while jeans, coat and shoes dry out. I have all day.
And I smile, because I have grown to learn that life can be really good even when it’s not ideal.
I love to camp, and Colorado provides the ideal setting. As a local, I’m particular. I eschew formal campgrounds, insisting on free range picturesque sites by creeks and hiking trails with 5-star scenic overlook finales. This weekend was no different.
Pickings are slim that meet my specs without a several hour drive. So I set out for a local standard hoping to stake claim to a particular spot popular with others who shared similar aspirations.
My favorite roost was occupied, but undeterred I eyed another isolated clearing that could have hosted me beautifully for three days. Problem was, the creek separated my van from the mossy gap that beckoned me.
I don’t pack light.
It took me an hour to haul my equipment, piece by piece across precariously seated stones that offered me passage. Well after nightfall, I realized my heavy cooler still sat packed by my camp table and I routinely stored all my food in my vehicle.
Overnight bear feeding was my worst nightmare.
Next in rank was attempting to cross a swift creek at night and landing in frigid waters soaking my only jeans, hiking shoes and down coat needed to ensure a toasty night snuggled in my tent.
Yes, that scenario happened.
Confidence shaken, alone and bruised, I stripped out of my wet clothes and mused, “This isn’t ideal!”
That phrase has grown to be a comfort to me. My husband and I speak those words to one another when one of our children meltdown creating scenes that used to humiliate us or leave us feeling demoralized. It’s not ideal, but it is ok. We will get through this season, and so will you.
This morning I’m enjoying the campfire in my dry flannel pajamas while jeans, coat and shoes dry out. I have all day.
And I smile, because I have grown to learn that life can be really good even when it’s not ideal.
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