As the Victoria Day weekend approached, I heard my friends discussing their plans for the first camping trip of the year. It all sounded pretty exciting and I considered tagging along until I recalled a promise that I made myself awhile back: “No more camping trips for Victoria Day weekend.”

The reason behind this vow was, as you may guess, a bad camping experience. The entire trip wasn’t bad I suppose but one of the nights the temperature dropped to darn near polar and I thought I wouldn’t make it through the night. My jaw ached from the chattering of my teeth, I thought that I would never be able to straighten my hunchback of tightly clenched muscles from sleeping in the fetal position all night. The day being sunny and warm certainly didn’t prepare me for the night of cold that snuck out of nowhere. We were of course camping just far enough from home to make it unreasonable to drive back just for an extra blanket, or jacket, or in my case, SNOWSUIT!!

In my younger days I lived for camping. I loved being “close to nature”, never thought about the weather or the bugs (much). Surviving on food that can be cooked on a stick, like marshmallows and hotdogs, and watching, smelling and listening to the roaring fire made the trip so enjoyable.

That feeling of bliss, these days, isn’t there so much. All the packing then unpacking, prepwork and setting up camp is all SO much fuss, if I didn’t have kids I don’t think it would be worth it. You know though, we really don’t have to travel too far from home and sleep in a tent to hunt for frogs and catch butterflies. And for sure they must miss the television and Internet as much as me.

Camping is fun for about as long as it takes me to drink my first Mike’s Hard Lemonade after setting up the tent. Then, until my hubby lights the fire, it’s just extreme boredom. And forget about going fishing. Nothing, and I mean nothing is as boring as fishing. After the second roasted hotdog on the first night I’ve just about had it. Staring at the fire dreading the next trip in the darkness to go to the washroom full of bugs, I wonder what excited me so much about camping as a kid.

And that’s on a good trip, WITHOUT the subzero slumber. So that trip was particularly unbearable. To top it off we packed up in the middle of a rainstorm that weekend.

Isn’t nature wonderful… “Behold nature, children!” I shouted as I wiped off my glasses under the tailgate of the van.Think I went camping during the holiday weekend? Not a chance. And will I bother to go this year at all? It’s entirely possible,

And of course that’s only if, when my husband asks me to go, he’s holding down feathers sleeping bags under his left arm and a portable dvd player under the right. Or else the keys to an RV.