The Worst Camping Trip

CEFR Level B2-C1

I’ve been tent camping for as long as I remember. Family trips, work requirements, solo trips, temperate forests, desert, rain forests, mountainsides, grasslands: With all that time spent outside, some trips have been better and others worse. 

Ironically, one of my worst camping trips was also one of the easiest.

It was September 2021. If you’ve subscribed to The Variety Page Circular, you’ll know that September is my favorite month. I carefully scheduled my vacation time so that I could take a camping trip when it was still warm at night, but not miserable during the day. I was trying to visit every Virginia state park, so I chose Cliffview Campground at New River Trail State Park for the fact that I had never been there rather than that it looked like a beautiful camping site. My campsite appeared to be within feet of the rail-to-trail trail. I envisioned walking up with the birds, enjoying a rejuvenating breakfast, and then walking right onto the trail for a day of walking. I even brought my bike, thinking I would try something new.

The day came for me to drive to New River. I was not feeling it, but the reservations were made and paid, so I packed up my car, thanked my husband for supporting my interests, and drove off. 

Hours later, I parked at the campground. Surveying the layout, I realized that these were not drive-up campsites. No problem. I was strong and had all afternoon. After wandering around, waiting for day-picnickers to leave my site, I finally told them that they were in my reserved spot. They apologetically moved.

I lugged my tent and bedding to my site. Comfortable sleep is important to me and my bedding included a sleeping pad, two comforters, a large flat sheet, a 32F sleeping bag, and a pillow. Nothing heavy, just a lot to carry. 

I set up my hammock, then stopped to consider. I didn’t see any Bear Aware signs, but this was nature. I decided to split the difference. I would leave my camp stove and dish washing supplies at the site, but put the cooler and food bag in the car anytime I left the site. The food containers were heavy. I had packed for the car to carry the weight, not me. At least I would get in strength training? 

My site was next to the river and within sight of the trail. Just what I wanted, right?

The only toilet was a pit toilet, but I’m not squeamish about that. Running water in a sink would be convenient, but I’ve got skills. At least there was a potable tap to fill water bottles. 

Camp set up and the day too far gone to get in a long walk, I built a fire and lay in the hammock to read. Then I felt the breeze from the river. 

A river breeze is nice, right? Just the thing to cool off on a hot day? Well, yes. Except the day wasn’t hot. It was that no-temperature temperature where you feel neither hot nor cold. The river breeze pushed me into cold territory.

Okay. I’ll pull a comforter out of the tent and wrap up. Now I’m warm, but I have to fight with the blanket every time I want to turn a page or shift in the hammock.

How’s the fire doing in the wind? I will not be the person to start a wildfire from lack of attention to the campfire. 

Eventually, I gave up on the hammock and went to sit by the fire. It was warmer, but less comfortable. 

I checked my watch. Not too early to start supper. After cooking and eating and washing the dishes and lugging the cooler and food bag back to the car and brushing my teeth and… The business of living takes so much work. I was over this camping trip, but since the deposit was paid, I stayed.

The next morning, I drove to a different part of the trail and got out my bike. I fumbled with the front tire, hoping I could remember to put it on right this time. One time, I put it on backwards and didn’t even know until I took the bike to the shop for something else and they noticed and fixed it for me. 

Tire on and brakes working, I started walking towards the trail. 

You have got to be kidding me!

The tire was flat, the inner tube sliced by the rim. I don’t know what happened in transit, but now I had to change the tire. No problem, I had two spare inner tubes!

Except, I didn’t have tire levers. 

You know what, I’m just going to walk. 

I took the front tire back off, maneuvered the bike back into my backseat, sighed in frustration, and started walking. 

I really did not want to be here. 

I tried to make the best of it, but let’s be honest, a flat trail surrounded by trees with occasional glimpses of the river is good for locals, but not inspiring enough to walk for hours when your entire body and mind feel heavy. 

I made it to Shot Tower State Park, checking another park off my list. It was a five-minute-visit site. I tried to engage my imagination, write a story about it. Really get into the history, the lives who worked here. Nope. I couldn’t muster up the energy to care.

I used the tripod to take photo after photo, trying to get one where my face looked less annoyed and exhausted than I felt. Finally getting a decent photo, I started the long walk back to my car.

Enroute to my campsite, I stopped at the camp office to ask about reservation refunds. If I cancelled, they would keep one night’s reservation. I was only reserved for one more night. 

The ranger suggested I try another location that was more of a traditional campground. I drove there and it was completely empty. This campground also only had pit toilets. If I had started there, I would have been okay, but it wasn’t worth the effort to move for one night.

I still had half the day left, so I walked from my site down the rail trail until my will to keep going gave up. I turned around and walked back to lay in the hammock. 

It was chilly, the breeze stronger than the evening before. So much for early September having late summer weather; this was early fall temperatures. 

I looked west. Storm clouds on the horizon.

I broke my “no cell phone except for check-ins” rule and checked the weather. Thunderstorms predicted all night. That’s okay. I’ve camped in thunderstorms before. 

I tried to read, but kept getting distracted by the clouds coming closer, the wind getting colder. 

I considered. My plan was to stay the night, do more walking in the morning, then drive home in the afternoon. If it rained in the night, I would have to pack up wet gear. I mean, it was already damp, but not dripping like it would be after a rain. If there were thunderstorms at night, I would be anxious about being in a tent with aluminum poles, so I wouldn’t sleep. The only lightning shelter was under the picnic table or a 2-minute dash to the car. Either way, I would get soaked. I could manage all that. I have the skills. But did I want to? Did I even care about walking more of the trail in the morning?

I watched the clouds like a hag waiting for an omen. I checked the weather. I debated with myself. What’s the point of camping if I’m not enjoying it? Diversity of experience and skill-building is important. I really don’t care right now. I have nothing to prove. 

Decision made, I packed up the campsite and called my husband, “I’ll be home in about three hours.”

Did I feel guilty about paying for something I didn’t use? Yes. Was I disappointed that I wasted vacation days on something that made me more exhausted? Yes. Do I think it was the right decision to leave early? Yes.

And that is how I came to know for myself that it’s not always necessary to push yourself through “not feeling it.” Sometimes, giving up is the better choice.