To the mountains

We went camping for the first time in three years last weekend. Yes, three years. That's a long time for people who find the mountains nearly as essential to good health as air and water. We all enjoyed ourselves thoroughly--especially our little one. A whole world full of dust in which to cover oneself, a whole lake to practice floating and splashing and dipping and pouring, a tent to hide in with a zipper to zip and unzip endlessly. And for me, the early morning light over the lake, the fresh mountain air filled with cedar and fir scent, a bit of rosy alpenglow over the mountain at dusk, the clear abundance of stars on my way to the outhouse at 1:30 am.

I think the fun vs. stress ratio for camping with a toddler has finally tipped in our favor. There were moments on this trip when I resolved not to try camping again for a long time. It's a lot of work to keep a toddler safe, and to manage outbursts and tantrums (of both child and parent sort), in an unconfined setting with all manner of tantalizing dangers calling to her curious little mind. But all in all, even after the long drive home--all of us tired and dirty and spent--it felt worth it to get out to the wilderness (as much wilderness as car camping allows) and to re-establish our connection to nature.