Back From Camp

How do I put into words one of the coolest vacations I get to take each year?

Maybe I should start by writing what it is not. It is not a tour of theme parks or monuments (although some of the guys would joke that it could be hehe). It is not an air conditioned hotel with room service and cable tv. It is not a bug-free, carpeted, posh place with comfy chairs and sofas.

It is a place of sun, rain, heat, cold, and dew soaked tents. Port-a-potty at night, public restrooms during the day. River canoeing, complete with underwater trees, gravel beds, snakes, great blue herons, bald eagle, and multiple strained muscles and bruises from overturning. A serene quiet so all embracing as to be sacred. Horseback riding; dusty strong horses, horseflies, horse shit, quiet trails through woods and meadows. Aching thighs, sunburnt arms. Picnic benches: unyielding wood, sore butts. Camping chairs, gravel roads, itchy grass.

All these things help to describe a place that is 15 minutes from the nearest civilized gas station with quickie mart. Little to no cell phone coverage (thank god), and certainly no Wi-Fi.

None of these things though, describe the people. It's the people that make this trip special. Imagine a place where you have 20-60 of the coolest people you'd ever want to meet, who all come from very diverse backgrounds, but share a passion for gaming, a trend for geekness, and a penchant for beer (or jaeger, or vodka, or what have you).

This is a time when we get to be ourselves. We don't censor what we say or how we say it. Plenty of hugs, gropes, innuendo, and laughter. Acceptance. Beautiful men who cook: from venison salami or burgers, to fajitas grilled on a real grill, hotdogs, sandwiches. It is a time of plenty. Plenty of food for the stomach, laughter for the soul, candy for the eyes. There is no better appetizer than the smell of charcoal smoldering in anticipation. Strong women who flirt, flash, and will spank if you ask.

This is a time of freedom. Four days without cell phones, internet connections, responsibilities to jobs or children or school. Thoughts of our everyday mundane lives do not need to be tended to. It is a time without the noise and distractions of modern life. No TVs blaring CNN or the latest "infotainment" report about the latest celebrity anorexic. Music, oh... there is sweet music. iPods of all sizes and colors. Better by far however, are the jam sessions of guitarists, singing everything from Pink Floyd to "Baby Got Back". Men who can happily converse in the leet terms of the gaming world, the geek vocabulary of networks and routers, yet still have such depth of talent to either play guitar or sing.

Time to connect, to energize the spirit. To feed that voice that begs for overindulgence of alcohol, or friendly gropes and backrubs. And as the weekend winds down, and we all stand around a dwindling campsite, a time to appreciate the modern comforts we'll return to: a soft bed, a shower (with unlimited hot water), a bubble bath, and cool air on a hot day.

I am tired, I am bruised, I am slowly re-hydrating myself. I have mosquito bites, but luckily no sunburns.

I cannot wait to go again.