Camping. I don’t get it.
Not the hike-half-a-day-up-a-mountain-and-toss-your-tent-on-virgin-earth camping. I get that.
What I don’t get is the travel-8-miles-down-the-road-and-erect-your-tent-10-yards-from-5-other-tents camping. Or an RV. Or a “pop-up” camper. I don’t get this. And I really don’t get this when you do it:
a) in the same county in which you live
b) during a week in which you still choose to go to work from said campsite
c) in view of other “campers”
d) or any combination of the above.
A lady at work recently hit all of the above. I don’t get it. Why would you pay someone (granted, the State of Michigan does need this income right now) when you can basically do all the aforesaid in your own back yard, plat restrictions aside, for free? Why would you voluntarily prepare meals on a portable propane grill or attempt over a campfire? Why would subject your sleep to the sounds of other people, mere yards away from you, separated only by a thin layer of Mylar?
That type of “camping” I don’t get.
I do get when you have to hike through woods or over streams or up mountains to find a campsite. I do get maybe doing this with a group of a few close friends. I do get trying to find the most secluded place in the 80,000 acre state park. I do get this sort of camping. I did Land/Sea. I understand about being “in the woods.” I have an appreciation for having to tie your food some 20′ in the air 50 yards away from you because of the wildlife (read: bears). I enjoy a trekking or fly-fishing expedition. This I get.
Camping at your local state park, 10 minutes from home, I do not get.