Chris Campos’s Blog. Thoughts, Feelings, Ideas, Art.

Camping in the backyard with Des

Des and I set up my old 2-man tent in the backyard just before the 4th of July, almost two months ago. We were planning to camp outside for a few days, which we often do during the summer.

We had a ton of fun sleeping out there that weekend, especially when the fireworks went off as we chatted in the tent before bed. Sometimes the sounds came from big fireworks shows off in the distance with presumably thousands of people spread out watching on blankets and lawn chairs. Other times it was a neighbor close by blowing off fireworks in their yard. The crackles and bangs from near and far came and went all weekend long.

After the 4th we decided to camp out another night, and then another, and another still. And then we just kept at it. As of the day I’m publishing this post Des and I have slept out back more than fifty nights in a row and we’re still going strong.

This has been amazing for so many reasons. I’ve probably slept outside more this year than in the rest of my life combined. I feel more connected to nature, especially the changes in weather. I’ve been sleeping well too, much better than usual. But the best part by far is that Des, my 9-year old son, is out there in the tent with me and loving it. He’s the driving force behind this camping marathon.

Every night at bedtime we head out back and settle in. We’ll read a bit and then talk. Sometimes we’ll watch a soccer highlight on my phone. Then I’ll give Des a hug and kiss good night before we fall asleep.

The tent has become our summer bedroom, the place we go to rest our heads at night. But it’s also way more than that, because camping in the backyard has brought us so many beautiful and surprising moments, so much adventure.

For example, the animals in the forest and trees behind our house play a special concert for us every night. A pulsating, rhythmic drone comes from ground level while up above it sounds like dragon-sized crickets are screaming punk melodies. It doesn’t seem possible that it’s all sung by a massive chorus of tiny bugs, but that’s what I’ve been told. I imagine there are some large birds high up in the trees too, wailing the blues by moonlight, but honestly I have no idea who the sounds are coming from.

A few nights ago Des passed out hard as soon as we got in the tent. I stayed awake just listening with my head on the pillow. I became lost in that world of white noise, realizing at once how loud it was and also how I rarely ever notice it. This was an all consuming and mind blowing feeling, but still at some point I crossed the threshold from awake to asleep. Hours later I opened my eyes gently. I wasn’t startled. It was a casual awakening. It was the middle of the night and the insect punk was still blasting. I got out of the tent and peed on the grass beneath the dark sky and clouds. A perfect breeze blew past. I felt lucky to experience that special moment. Then I got back in the tent and immediately drifted off again.

The most fun is when it rains. I check the weather much more often now and when I see a significant chance of rain coming I get excited. I’ll tell Des and he’ll say “That’s awesome!”

But what kind of rain will it be? An even, gentle rain? Those are nice because the pitter patter of rain drops on the tent is deeply relaxing and might just be the perfect soundtrack to fall asleep to. A gentle rain also doesn’t get us wet on the inside of the tent.

If it’s a ferocious rain then that’s another story. They’re great too, but in an adventurous as opposed to relaxing kind of way. Even with the rain cover on water gets into the tent. Mostly it comes from below. The rain drenches all the earth around us, somehow sneaking above or rising through the tarp underneath and soaking the floor. Water can mist and drip through the rain cover too if it comes down hard enough.

A few weeks ago an absolutely thunderous storm started just after we got in the tent with whipping wind and booming thunder and rain drops smashing down from above. There was standing water covering the floor within a half hour and it looked like we wouldn’t get much sleep that night if we stayed out there. I asked Des if he wanted to go inside and sleep in our beds but he immediately said “No way! Let’s figure it out.” So we went to the garage and got heavy duty garbage bags and lined the floor and our air mattresses with them. Then we put our sleeping bags on top of the thick plastic. Everything was fine after that. Our pillows were a bit damp but we still fell asleep easily and made it through another night.

That rainstorm was on our tenth consecutive night in the tent by the way. That’s significant because we had once done nine nights in a row two years earlier and Des had been getting excited about breaking the old record. He wasn’t going to let some wetness get in the way. But what would’ve happened if we’d gone to our beds that night? I assume we would’ve started sleeping inside again and missed most of this backyard adventure. I’m so glad we stuck it out.

Another time it came down even harder and we used the heavy duty garbage bags again, but Des and I also had to scrunch up our bodies and move away from the edges of the tent towards the center so that we didn’t get soaked during the craziest moments of the storm when the water seeped in at the corners and drizzled on our heads and feet. It’s a small tent that we already fit snugly in with little room to maneuver, so we just huddled together in the middle as best we could, continually reminding each other how cool it was that we were out there in this pounding rain. It was thrilling while it lasted, but then the rain died down and we spread out again and passed out.

When I’m out there I often think of what life was like hundreds of years ago. No heat or air conditioning. No plumbing. Many people braved the elements on a daily and nightly basis. How did they survive with their primitive clothing and structures? It must’ve been such a hard life, especially when the weather wasn’t cooperating.

But there’s also something to be said for the close relationship with Mother Nature that our ancestors must’ve felt, experiencing her rhythms and moods so directly as she shifted between heat and cold, dry and wet, stillness and movement. Being outside nourishes the soul and reminds us that we’re all connected. It’s so different now with most of our lives lived indoors in grand homes and cars and supermarkets.

Des tells me that he wants to keep sleeping in the tent for the foreseeable future. There’s even talk of making it until winter.

I plan to camp out back with Des as long as he wants. I’d stay out there with him forever I’m having so much fun. But like all things this will come to an end one day too.

I have no doubt though that our season of camping will live on in our hearts and the stories we tell for the rest of our lives.

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