Although the memories may have taken on unduly romantic tinges, I'm fond of recalling that distant, nearly mythic time B.K. (Before Kids), when my wife and I wandered footloose along wilderness trails, camping under the stars, and reveling in the intimacy of a cozy tent, a flask of wine and thou.
When our son Grael was born, we traded our backpacks for baby carriers, and packed away our trail gear. Taking a tot into the wilderness seemed too overwhelming.
Then, in the year 2 A.K., with Grael a toddler, we took what has become known as the Accidental Camping Trip. Friends who were camping north of San Francisco invited us to their site for a day of picnicking and hiking. As evening approached and it became time for us to head home, our friends lit a campfire and started the grill. Grael burst into tears; he wanted to stay and eat "hangurbers."
After a memorable evening of burgers, S'mores and sing-alongs, we curled up in our car for the night and went to sleep. While I would never recommend taking the phrase "car camping" so literally, the Accidental Camping Trip proved to Catharine and me that we didn't have to postpone our outdoor escapes until Grael was old enough to tote his own pack. We did, however, have to change our camping style. In fact, my wife and I discovered we liked camping even more with children.
Camping isn't just a good way to learn about nature together. It's a wonderful way to learn about each other. On a father-son camping trip I took with Grael when he was seven, I struggled to set up a new tent and finally headed off to find other adults to help. When I returned, I was astonished to see the tent standing upright and ready--and Grael beaming beside it. My son had managed to out-engineer me. After a brief bout of humiliation, I realized he'd taken an important step toward growing up.
San Francisco writer Clark Norton, who earned only one merit badge in four years as a Boy Scout, is living proof that anyone can learn to camp.
