It’s early in the morning on day two of our annual camping trip and I’m the first awake. The coals from last night’s fire are keeping me warm as I hack on my iPad, and hovering above me is an unusually bright morning moon.
Jackson and Sophia Archer together at Baxter State Park for their family’s annual camping weekend. (Staff photo/Joshua Archer)
The sounds of the Maine woods greeting the early dawn are like a gentle heartbeat that’s all of sudden stabbed by the soul-ripping snoring coming from inside my in-law’s camper, and I wouldn’t ask for anything better. I know I sound like I’m complaining, but I’m in pure ecstasy.
My wife’s family is so normal it makes me sick and I love it. When I’m with them, it’s like I’m watching them on TV. I get to be on the sidelines knowing I’ll never be fully accepted and it’s great.
My wife and I packed up our minivan with the kids and drove down to Baxter State Park for my wife’s family’s annual camping weekend last week.
I wouldn’t trade my annual weekend of no showers, sleeping on the ground and self deprecation for anything. I love my wife’s family. I grew up with divorced parents who live on opposite coasts. My wife and I have been together for over a decade, but the novelty of being part of a “traditional family” hasn’t worn off. I think back to what I did as a kid and there were no real traditions, so whatever this is now, it’s great.
After driving through the narrow paths that cut through Baxter and praying we didn’t cream an oncoming car around every corner on the way to our campsite, there sat our cabins flanked by evergreens cradling the moon. We parked, unpacked and got a fire burning.
I don’t belong outside. I don’t do well when I’m too far from my computer. I’m lucky to have my wife’s family of Type A’s who are clearly meant to survive on this planet. I’m still waiting for the mothership to give me a ride home.
For four days out of the year, I’m surrounded by men and women who can start a fire with nothing more than broken glass and a bag of Doritos as well as prepare home cooked meals so good you ignore the occasional bug or pine needle accidentally added to your plate as garnish.
The best part is watching our kids have a blast with their cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. I know I might be having a good time, but this is really their time. A time to unplug and bond with their loved ones.
Bonding together is almost like seeing the other person naked. You get to see what character he or she plays in life. What idiosyncrasies and neurosis make up his personality. Quirks become fashion and you just accept how he wraps himself in life’s endless garments. He just is. And that’s OK.
I can’t wait for next year.
