The Systematic Wussification of Camping

My family and I went camping this past weekend, and we had a lovely time...

...therein lies the problem.

Let me back up.  I did not grow up going camping.  My father and mother both grew up in Chicago, and neither cared for the great outdoors enough to spend an entire twenty-four hour period living in it.  Some people say that their idea of camping is a room at the Holiday Inn.  My mother's is a room at the Chicago Hilton and Towers.

As an adult, and especially after I met my outdoorsy wife, I sought camping experiences because it fosters a sort of toughness that I, frankly, do not have.  I've always loved being outside, playing sports outside, hiking, and so forth, but at the end of the day, I was always game for a comfy bed nearest the air conditioner.

So now when I go camping, I want to GO CAMPING.  I want to MacGyver my way through a sticky situation, I want to make fire from twigs, leaves, and a hissing cockroach.  I want to have the sort of experience that, if retold to Bear Grylls, might elicit raised eyebrows.

This past weekend, while again quite lovely, was not that. 

Let me clarify that I am not disparaging my family, especially my in-laws who planned the excursion, or the nice people at the very nice place where we stayed.  I'm just saying that it didn't help me become less of a wuss.

My in-laws have a 5th wheel; which is a camper just slightly less well-appointed than Bon Jovi's tour bus.  The bathroom is nicer than the bathroom in my house, and they have a flat-screen TV and a sound system that does most any action movie justice.  Given the option, and I was, I slept there over a tent. 

The campground itself was equipped with a pool, complete with water slide, a bar and grill with really excellent food, and a general store.

Swimming, it is my understanding, is an integral part of camping.  That said, if I'm going swimming while camping, I want to be ankle deep in quasi-safe mud, not a chlorine-filtered pool with a froggy water slide.  And as for the general store...You don't have a store on a campground to provide campers with the essentials they forgot at home...If you forget your bug spray, you suck it up, deal with it, and then tell a story ten years later about how shitty West Nile virus is.

That's camping, folks.

I realize that the needs of people are changing, and that not everyone craves the rustic experience that I do.  But speaking for myself, I want things simple next time.

Just give me my Vibram toe shoes, air mattress, self-staring gas grill, polarized sunglasses, clip-on bug repellent, iPad, and mobile hotspot, and I'll be just fine.

You know, the  basics.