Oh, Nothing Much: Roughing it

I begged G for years to take me camping. This year he finally gave in and now we’ve been twice. Up until this year, I had not been camping since I was a 10 year-old Girl Scout. Somehow in my mind, despite having had any real exposure or training since then other than the occasional leisurely hike, I’m well on my way to becoming a badass outdoors woman.

That’s what I like to think. However -- reality check -- so far my camping experiences have better served as training in Epicureanism. Pretty much, it has just been living the good life, but outside and sans showers.

G and I headed on our first camping trip back in March, along with Amy and Marc. (I alluded to it in an earlier post.) We headed all the way out into the wilds of Malibu. I admit it, saying you’re going camping in Malibu automatically strips away any notions of roughing it. To further strip away this myth, we preceded the setting up of tents and such with a trip to nearby Malibu Family Wines. We picnicked with a bottle of wine, a baguette, lots of cheese and charcuterie, and sundry other goodies. Once we did arrive at our campsite, we set things up pretty quickly. We then went off on a “hike.” We didn’t get very far. We wound up eating chocolates while enjoying the bank of a friendly creek.

All kidding aside, Malibu State Park is really spectacular and I do recommend going here. This park was verdant (at least on this occasion) with lots of trees and hills. The scenery was rated 9 out of 10 in a camping book we consulted. It’s absolutely accessible for day use as well. It’s so close to civilization and yet it feels so far away. I felt like we might as well have been somewhere over the rainbow.

(I thought the view of this hill looked like King Kong, but no on else saw it but me)

And give us some credit -- On this occasion we did actually sleep outside in a tent and did some improvisational cooking on the grill and the stove we brought with us.

(My ill-fated attempt at pancakes.)

And while Marc and Amy headed home in the morning, G and I did finally did go on that hike.

We capped this very arduous camping experience with a drive down the PCH ending at Venice Beach with a Po Boy and a beer. It may have not been roughing-it exactly – or at all – but we certainly took advantage of the best that LA has to offer.

Camping round 2 occurred this past weekend. Carolyn, my mother-in-law, rented an RV and invited us along for a short camping getaway. This time our destination was Lake Jennings, which is just outside San Diego.

Once again, not exactly far from civilization – homes are visible not too far away. The lake was bright blue, and while we just hiked around it, boat rentals are available for paddling around in or fishing. I kind of wish that we’d brought our bikes because the many trails around the lake and the hills looked perfect for mountain biking. The scenery here has a more rustic beauty – the hills are stony and the vegetation is mostly chaparral.

Now Carolyn is a wonderful woman, however, roughing-it and trying to make do with as few supplies as possible isn’t exactly her thing. She’s more of the be-prepared-for-anything mentality. Meals on this camping trip were anything but paltry. We took turns cooking so that each of us was head chef for one meal per day, and each meal in its way was a feast. Of course at night there were also the requisite s’mores and hot chocolate.

For two days I had a very rigorous schedule that went something like this: eat, read, nap, light hike, repeat. Sometimes Carolyn would insert a knitting lesson here and there, and of course there was lots of conversation, but that was pretty much the schedule. It was hot out, so I really can’t be blamed for getting drowsy often. Yeah, it was rough. I pretty much took on the life of a cat.