By Rebecca Dorr
When the children were young, I was determined to find a fun, manageable way to go camping. Packing up a tent, sleeping bags, rain and cooking gear, stove, groceries for nutritious meals, etc. on Friday night after a week of work seemed fairly daunting and definitely not fun.
My husband, who was accustomed to back country hiking, finally relented a small camper in which we could keep our camping gear and have a guaranteed dry place to sleep at night. We bought a used three-season A-Liner from a neighbor with a small inheritance my grandmother left me. She had always wanted to drive cross-county in an RV, so this seemed somewhat fitting. We named the camper after her: “Helen Wheels.”
I thought we had found the perfect way to get away for weekends and occasional weeks with the children. Well, as with many things, I was wrong. Each trip resulted in some sort of disaster. My husband and I initially tried sleeping in one bed, we put our son in the opposite bed, with the dog and our daughter on the floor between us. By the end of a day hiking and biking, four of us were pooped. Our daughter, who had generally spent most of the day in a backpack, was ready to party. I remember one night my husband getting quite clear with her that it was time to lie down and go to sleep, at which point my 3-year-old daughter started to sing, “Oh Daddy, you are so lovely…” It was not funny.
Of course, all dogs like to fart in campers. And once, our CRV radiator blew, and we had to abandon the CRV with camper and call my father for a ride home. It often rained. The A-Liner generally stayed dry, but we had nowhere to put wet clothes and boots after entering the camper.
For some bizarre reason, I also became obsessed with not wrecking the kitchen bench upholstery. One day my son climbed on top of the camper when it was closed up and stepped through a window. We learned it can be somewhat difficult to replace parts for an older model. It became just another thing to fret about.
Then, one week after getting his driver’s license, my son crashed the CRV that towed the camper. For the last few years of our marriage, the A-Liner sat in our yard (as did the crumpled CRV) collecting leaks, mice and mildew.
This summer, I decided my daughter and I were going back to basics. We packed the old tent, the older sleeping bags, some pads, a cribbage board, one cooler, several pots, and a one-burner back country stove into my 2012 Honda Civic. Miraculously we were able to load the canoe and two bikes onto my small car. I strapped everything down with ratchet straps. We did not make reservations. I figured we could sleep in the car if nothing else worked out.
No husband, no son, no dog and no expectations. Having finally let go of thinking anything in life was going to work the way I planned, I gave up hope of fun camping. We just needed to get out of town on a hot weekend.
My daughter and I arrived at Camden Hills State Park at five on a Friday night in July. There was one site left, next to the bathroom. My daughter somehow knew that the two extra tent stakes weren’t really extra and set up the tent properly. She then took it upon herself to hunt for kindling and wood. We ate boxed apple pie for Friday supper sitting on a bench in front of breezy Lincolnville Beach. We played cribbage in front of the fire. We slept well. It didn’t rain. I could easily get to the toilet in the middle of the night. The canoe and bikes didn’t fall off the car. We didn’t even try to go hiking.
My daughter, who is the queen of free samples and cheap eats, was thrilled to go out Saturday for $5 happy hour pizza and ping-pong at Cuzzies Bar. I cooked oatmeal twice and nothing else. We started each morning (after oatmeal) drinking the best coffee in Maine, at Green Tree. We discovered the biggest small ice cream cones on the coast.
So I guess this weekend I learned again to keep it simple. Eat lots of sugar and drink great coffee. Camp next to the bathroom (so if it does rain, you can sleep in there). Buy really strong ratchet straps and use a lot of them. Travel with people who make you laugh and who understand about those extra tent poles. Having no plan and driving off into the sunset can work.
