Camping

I'd like to go camping. Too bad it's so much work.

I see campers and always think I'd like to do it (again, because I used to go camping, when I was a kid especially, but also as an adult.)

It's fun, being out by a lake somewhere, sitting there in a tent reading, or out walking the campground, or by the lake, or bike riding, or taking the dog for a walk.

But it is indeed a lot of work, meaning a lot of packing of stuff, then putting up your tent, etc. You need to take about a million things. But one time when I was a teenager I rode my bike out to a lake, took a tent, a space blanket, a box of Capt. Crunch (I think it might've been peanut butter flavored), and that was about it. I think that was it. I was there, I slept, I got up, had some dry cereal, and I believe I rode home. Maybe not the most interesting trip.

One of these days I'll probably write about my 2nd weirdest camping trip, during which, by a few terrible twists of fate, I ended up tearing the door handle off my car with a tire iron. True story.