I like to go camping. I really do. What I do not like is getting to a campsite on a Friday at, say, 6:30 PM and then sweating until I leave at 10:00 AM on Sunday morning. Aside from the discomfort of chaffing on 75% of my body, I just do not like being wet all day and then at night while I sleep.
I get to camp with my son on Friday night. I drop him off on the Scout side, then drive over to the "Chief" side and find my campsite (I would barely see him again until we left on Sunday morning!). I was filled with excitement to see the beautiful background of Lake Lanier as I drove up to the site where I would put up my seven person tent for just me to sleep in…I have a rule about tents. If I cannot stand up in it, I am not sleeping in it! My excitement quickly faded when I got out of my nicely air-conditioned car and started sweating profusely the instant the hot, pea soup like air hit my skin. I proceeded to set up my tent. I thank God that some innovative people have made this tent set-up easy for us. It only took me about 15 minutes and a gallon of sweat to get the tent up, but that included setting up my room divider to separate the living room form the bedroom in the tent. A few hours later I was not-so-fast asleep in the hot, damp, very still air. Yep turned in at about 10:30 PM and quickly fell asleep at about 3:00 AM.
The Scout blowing the bugle at 6:30 AM came very quickly Saturday morning. However the morning air felt nice. It was cool, with a slight breeze that helped some of the night's sweat dry from my skin and clothing. I am not sure how none of this air made it into my tent during the night. We gathered Saturday for some breakfast. Nice hot eggs and sausage cooked on an open fire. It was very good but I should have been a little smarter and not used the hot sauce that instantly got me to rain sweat again. The damage was done. The day would heat up to about 92 degrees Fahrenheit and the sweat would continue to pour from my every pore. As the Scouts were out on the lake learning about canoeing, I started to become repulsed with myself. I mean if I could smell me, it had to be bad! And I had no relief in my future. The campground did have a shower but on the other campouts I had been on, they were so remote that I did not even think to bring soap or anything to clean myself with. I took a shower anyway. It was the first and last time I shower with baby wipes and face wipes instead of soap and a washcloth. I used a sock as a wash cloth for those tough, ground in dirt areas but it never really provided that good clean feeling that I was craving at that point. I went to bed Saturday night around 10:30 PM, again sweating, uncomfortable, frustrated and of course I did not fall asleep until about 3:00 AM. My only thought was, "Man I have GOT to get an air-mattress! I am too old for this hard ground crap!"
The sounds of bugles at 6:30 AM on Sunday morning made me want to rip my face off and throw it in the lake. Not that I would have been able to get a grip on my face with all the grease and sweat that covered it. I went to bed thinking about that air-mattress…..I woke up thinking, "Screw that air-mattress I need to get a camper with some a/c in it!" The only thing I could draw strength from was knowing that we would be leaving in a matter of hours. I could grab my boy, get in that car, turn the air on and start to freeze as the cold air hit my sweat soaked clothing. Hopefully it would blow some of the foulness off of me as well….all I had at that point was hope. I still had the daunting task of breaking down camp knowing it would produce yet another gallon of sweat. I just bit the bullet and got after it. I had my camp packed up in about a half hour. Although that sounds good it isn't that good at all since I just rolled up the tent and threw it in the back of the car instead of folding it correctly and packing it away in it's carrying case…I HAD TO GET OUT OF THERE!! As soon as I could, I grabbed the boy and we were on the road catching up on all the things he did over the weekend that I missed because he was off with his buds.
Arriving home, I felt the personal comfort that I was in need of. I still had to clean up the camping gear before I could shower but I knew it was just a matter of time before I could scrub the grime and odor off of me. I just stood in the shower. First cold water, then warm, finally hot as I watched the filth whirlpool flow down the drain. One more shot of cold water and I was in my kick-around shorts and a t-shirt in my comfy chair, tired, but a better man since none of this was about me....it was all for the boy and I would do it all over again exactly the same way for him. I love my son.
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