In a matter of events that seemed to sneak up on us, we went camping this weekend with Duane in his home-neck-of-the-woods of Chilliwack, Cultus Lake to be exact. I’ve been camping a number of times, but the opportunity to camp in some official campgrounds with park rangers, outhouses, and “quiet hours” is something I’ve never experienced before. Plus, I’ve never been camping in Canada, so I did a few firsts this weekend.
We tried to get more people to come along, but the weekend was pretty awesome with just the three of us. Duane has some really great photos, and Rebecca has a few as well. You can see my collection here.
And yes, we called it “drunkcamp” because of some strange, string of conversation topics that stemmed from hanging out at these various meetups and (un)conferences (Northern Voice, democamp, barcamp, etc.) that our paths have been crossing at. As much as we appreciate those events, there’s something to be said about being outdoors, no computers, and a steady supply of food and beverages. You can talk shop, but you just can’t do any work.
Actually, I did a lot of work out there, and by that I mean chopping wood so much that my hands are tender from calluses that haven’t seen much action for a long while. There is something that happens to me when I have access to a fire pit and a supply of fuel for the fire. It’s like a sense of enchantment by the flames, and then I have to keep the thing going. It’s a delicate dance because you don’t want it too hot, but you don’t want it to die out completely. And because of that, I still have whiffs of smoke on me, and that’s after one day and two showers since being bathed in campfire ash.
I’m committed to this now, and we’re talking about making another venture in the near future. Get out of the city, get away from this keyboard I’m typing on, and just have more time to relax, not to mention being decently affordable. Of course, we spent a little getting a tent and other supplies, but we’re ready for drunkcamp02 now.