The World Is Worth Taking Seriously
Some people hate camping.
Like when you say, I went camping, they will react to that statement and talk about not liking dirt, not liking sleeping on the ground, not wanting to be around bugs.
That all seems fair, but if you push, and ask the next logical question, “Have you ever been camping?”
They will say, nope. Never have, never will.
Occasionally, you will get the version that says, “I went as a kid and I hated it.” Which to me is the most bizarre response of them all.
Because being a kid and camping is the best. You don’t have to shower, you get to eat junk food and you get to run around with your best friends. Sometimes you will even get to ride in the pop up trailer when it is already popped up.
You will meet cute boys and float in lakes, you will jump in rivers and over tarantulas, you will learn to ride a 10 speed and see snow in the middle of June.
You will make up games and chores. You will read books and eat s’mores. You will go to the visitor center and you will become a Junior Ranger.
Right?
I mean that was my childhood.
With parents in a motor home or tent trailer, us girls would opt for the tent until we heard the bear sounds and one by one we would make our way back to our original assigned bed.
My mom bought Hostess cupcakes and Ding Dongs when we went camping and we had canned tamales on the outdoor stove.
Once I was too scared camping in the desert to go to the bathroom because all I could see were coyote eyes, I held it until the morning!
We camped in usual places, Sequoias and Kings Canyon, Tahoe and the beach. Not every place we went had a Junior Ranger program but when they did, we played along.
Camping was our summer escape, our long weekends away, and they had a specific rhythm to them.
Spoon tacos.
Sausage, eggs and potatoes, never pancakes or individual eggs, always something that could be made in one pan for a big group.
Ham sandwiches for lunch.
When our kids joined the party, we would go camping to Mt. Rainier. We would head to the Ranger Station after our version of breakfast and the boys would pick up their Junior Ranger booklet. We would complete the activities as we walked around and by the afternoon they would turn in their paperwork and be sworn in as official Junior Rangers complete with an oath and a pledge, a raised hand and a badge. Every year, same booklet, increasing expectations as they got older.
We would do Junior Ranger booklets all around Washington and Oregon. They would do them with my parents at The Grand Canyon and Mt. Rushmore, in DC and probably even at Four Corners.
But the holy grail of the Junior Ranger programs was at Yellowstone. Not only did they have the Junior Ranger booklet but they had a Science Ranger backpack and activities. Complete with a scanning thermometer. The bags so big they draped over their little bodies and I worried they would fall into the lava pits, I mean, water holes.
And the Yellowstone Junior Ranger booklet was not something that could be accomplished between a late breakfast and early dinner. No, Yellowstone was a multiple day adventure. It took focus and hard work, we may have even had to resharpen the golf pencil that comes standard.
Fortunately, for us, we were spending a week at the park or at least near by. We had a condo in Big Sky and grandparents along for the fun. We would swim back at our place and make dinner, go for beer and have a space to relax after long days in the crowds.
Mason was just walking so the other two were the sole focus of the Ranger curriculum and we had one more day in the park before they headed out to vacation with my parents and Tim, Mason and I turned towards the Tetons.
As it was our last day in the park, my parents stayed back with Mason and we went to see more sights, entering in by Mammoth Hot Springs and checking out the village. The boys completed their booklets in the car and we were to make our way to the Ranger Station to have them get their badges when we looked at the clock and realized, we were chasing daylight, a 45 minute drive to a station that closed in 45 minutes.
No talking, no bathroom breaks, focus people, we have got to go. We were on the wrong side, not the Old Faithful side, the quiet side, but that meant it closed earlier than the others and time was not on our side. Booklets complete. But would we make it?
I imagined the worst, what could you do if you missed the Rangers? This was 2010 before the internet was on my phone and before I knew you could send in the booklet and they would send you the badge. Before I knew you could ask for the Badge with the booklet and promise to administer the oath yourself. This was before I knew a lot about being a parent, just 9 years in a different person than I am today.
But our children. They are nothing if not earnest. They believe in the rules. They would never go for us administering the oath. They both joined the military for fucks sake. Thatcher used to wear the “Don’t Stomp the Meadows” button proudly and be almost willing to enforce it out in the wild if only people wouldn’t have read it and didn’t require him to speak!
So, there we were, two parents, one just home a year from his second deployment, getting to know his kids again, our first real family vacation. Two boys, focused, ready, attentive. Earnest.
They completed the booklet, they didn’t take shortcuts. They wanted to add that badge to their collection. They lived in a world where goodness was normal. Where hard work and loyalty were rewarded.
Maybe that is what earnestness is.
Not innocence, but the willingness to believe the world is worth taking seriously.
Knowing them now like I do, if we would have missed the Rangers, one of them would have reassured me that it wasn’t my fault (it probably was) and that it wasn’t a big deal (which it absolutely was). They are good boys, sweet, kind, caring, loving, and still earnest.
We rolled into that parking lot and everyone jumped out of the truck, we ran walked our way inside just in time. The ranger on duty, not at all in a hurry to end his day, looked through their work page by page, asking questions, looking at the work they had completed. And finally, with out edit, asked them to raise their hands, and administered their oath. Should I tell them I don’t think they deny kids, or should we keep that to ourselves.
Looking at the pictures, I can see they are worried and then proud. They will never say they hate camping because their memories are tied up in those Junior Ranger badges and they took an oath to love the outdoors.
Maybe we need Junior Ranger badges for those that missed out, wouldn’t that be fun?
So when I hear someone say they don’t like camping, I believe them. But I also wonder what they did as kids that was so different from what we did and what might I hate because I wasn’t exposed to the fun it could be. Sometimes life is like that, you know, you hate the things you don’t understand.
🎧 Read Aloud
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