Camping alone

Last night a memory came to mind. I had forgotten the event ever happened and at the time it took place I was annoyed and disappointed. It never occurred to me that I would look back 15 years ago and smile at the moment today.

I had hiked about a mile through the woods and fields and set up camp for the night. Some friends of mine were suppose to be hiking from another direction to meet me at the site. It was starting to get late and my friends had not arrived. I was never worried that anything had happened to them. I had assumed they got distracted, or had a run in with their parents which was not uncommon. There I sat by the campfire with my tent snacking under a full moon.

I was starting to get bored when I saw someone walking toward me through the field. It was in the opposite direction from where my friends should have been coming. We were were on private property so I couldn't imagine who it might have been.

As he got closer, I discovered it was my brother. He had nothing better to do that night, so he joined us...me...camping. By the time he arrived, it was all I could do to stay awake. He started talking, and I kept nodding off to sleep, occasionally responding with a "yeah...um-hm" making him think I was listening. I woke up about 3:00 and he said, do you want to stay here the rest of the night, or should we just head home.

By then I was cold and uncomfortable and figured the night was a bust, so I said, "yeah, let's go." We headed home under the light of the moon, talking about what it might have been like to be a runaway slave on the property we walking on.

It's not a great story, but a good memory. It reminds me that an annoying situation today may be looked upon very differently in years to come.

4 comments:

  1. Well, I thought it was an entertaining story. I read the whole post. Though I didn't grow up with a brother or go camping by myself, it did bring to mind a few fond camping memories I have, especially working at a summer camp and walking across the fields by the light of the moon.

    So are you and your son going camping this weekend?!
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  2. We're not planning on it - but one day we will.
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  3. Cool story. Made me think of the times I went camping with friends...it always rained, it was always cold and uncomfortable....And the story usually had had a part where a bear or some other wildlife scared the bejeebbers out of me. But despite the PTSD flashbacks, it is still among the fondest memories I have...Why is it that freezing your butt off and being scared half to death turns into fond memories later?
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  4. I think they become fond memories because they are unique and unusual memories. And we tend to like to pass on our unique experiences. They allow us to either relate with or to others who share similar experiences.

    I think the sharing and relating is why there are people who tell tall tales tell their tall tales.
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