8 Minute Memoir - Day Fifteen

Day Fifteen - "Camping"

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The most memorable camping I've ever done was the first time I went out sans parents.  Just me and my friend Jessica went camping by ourselves in grade nine.  We were pretty hard core adventurers.  We loaded all of our necessities onto my quad and drove probably less than a mile from my house to a grove of trees that had been mutilated by cows, but were still trees nonetheless.  We found a nice patch of ground on the outskirts of the grove, tucked in some smaller, bushy looking trees.  This was the only patch to have only one cow pie per square foot of ground.  So went set up the pup tent and sat around doing nothing waiting for it to get dark so that we could begin "camping."  I can't remember if we ate a cold supper out there alone amongst the cow turds, but I'm sure we were wise enough to bring an ample amount of snacks.  As dark was drawing near, my dad came to check on us.  We were partying hard inside the tent listening to "In the Ghetto" by Elvis Presley.  I can't hear that song without thinking about this right of passage.  I had a good enough sleep, but I did get very cold. It was only April for heaven's sake.  What were we thinking?  I remember waking up at dawn and being exceedingly jealous that Jessica had slept with her winter coat on.  I tried to quietly slip into my jacket and create any sort of warmth for myself.  Getting comfortable and falling asleep again wasn't in my stars though, so I laid there waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting.  Isn't waiting for someone to wake up the worst?  I mean, I could have woken her up, but that would make me a crappy friend.  Finally she woke up and we broke camp, piled back on the quad and drove home.  So basically, this "camping" trip was really just a "sleeping in a tent that isn't set up in the backyard" trip.  But to me it was camping.  Of course Jessica and I bragged about it on Monday to all of our friends.  So a few weeks later, we did it again, but with a whole posse.  This time we hung our bras on the tree branches above the tent.  When we woke up in the morning they were gone.  But only because some sneaky friends hid them in the car.  Yes, we drove less than a mile from my house that time.  And now that I've written all of this out, I've realized there were no fires.  So, is it even really camping if you don't light a camp fire?