I love the outdoors. It has been in my soul since I can remember; playing outside whenever the weather permitted and choosing the loft of an old barn as my playhouse when the weather was less than ideal. However, camping was not introduced to me by my parents. I “camped” a couple of times with my dad in a small shed known as “deer camp” to those who visited it. Not quite the same as pitching a tent, but still magical as a young girl. We would hike small trails across the farm my grandfather owned in DIxon, Kentucky, and I would take in the sights and sounds around me. Even as a young child, I found my peace in the woods.
After I became a parent, we spent hours playing outside, exploring, and learning, but it wasn’t until after my last child was born that we got into camping. Like so many others, I believed taking one child, much less five, was too much work and would cost too much money. For Christmas one year, I asked my mom for a tent and camping supplies, and so the camping adventures for my family began.
Our first trip to Land Between the Lakes, we packed the truck full of camping supplies. My ex-husband, Jacob, our three oldest children, and I set out for one night of camping in the wilderness. A trial, if you will, to see if we could enjoy a night beneath the stars. Land Between the Lakes offers backcountry camping in a way most other areas do not. No permit is needed to camp on the federally owned land, and there are no fees as long as you aren’t staying in a campground. We drove down several of the gravel roads winding through the area and found the perfect place to spend the night. We were miles from civilization; basically, my heaven. We were on the banks of Lake Barkley overlooking a bay, and we could see the channel and the dam. The view was astonishing.
We began to set up camp, getting out the coolers we had packed, the food, tent, and a box of miscellaneous camping supplies I had thrown together before we left. I was in charge of getting the fire started; Jacob was in charge of setting up the tent. Within minutes of removing the tent from its bag, Jacob came to me to deliver the bad news; we had forgotten the tent poles. How in the hell does that even happen? Here we were, at dusk, with a worthless tent without poles. There wasn’t any way to set it up, two and a half hours away from home. I am a firm believer in God and divine intervention, so what happened next is nothing less than a miracle. After a brief moment of anger and blaming one another, we agreed we would find a way to improvise, or we would head home. Jacob went on a hunt for anything we could use to support the tent for just one night, and unbelievably, he found a set of tent poles in the woods just down the hill from where we were standing. Our tent was an ten- man Eureka dome tent, one of the best I have owned, and the poles he found were for a much smaller tent, but we were determined to make it work. Our ten-man tent became a four-person tent for the night, but we were relieved it was standing. The sides were sagging, the top not fully extended, and it was half the size it was supposed to be, but it worked. I wish I had a picture; words cannot explain how that tent looked. Then came the next forgotten item; air mattresses or even sleeping pads. We brought sleeping bags, but we had nothing to elevate us off of the cold ground. At this point, I was beginning to believe we should abandon our attempt to camp and head home. But the fire was inviting, and a bigger part of me didn’t want to leave. We could survive the night.
We set around the campfire that night roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, telling ghost stories, and laughing until our sides hurt. The kids seemed to be enjoying themselves as we watched the moon rise over the lake. We watched the barges make their way through the channel and listened to the waves left in their wake crash against the shoreline. Owls were hooting, coyotes howling, and crickets were chirping. It was more perfect than I could have imagined. As bedtime approached, we each climbed into our sleeping bags, ready to settle down for the night. We had not selected the best location for setting up the tent; it wasn’t exactly level, something we hadn’t noticed. We faded off to sleep quickly to the sounds of the wildlife outside of our tent, and our heads elevated on the incline. Around 2 am, I woke up, cold from the ground beneath my sleeping bag, and I had slid to the bottom of the tent where it was not expanded. Unraveling myself from the sides of the tent, I crawled back up to the higher area and drifted off to sleep once again. I repeated this process at least three times that night.
We woke up to the sun shining through the top of the tent, everyone telling their stories of how little sleep they had gotten the night before. All of us had the same experience of sliding down the tent floor, and everyone said they had gotten cold. But amazingly, no one complained. It was less than ideal night of camping, but somehow everyone seemed refreshed. We ate breakfast and walked along the banks of the lake before packing up and heading home. The camping trip was successful even with all the blunders that should have made it miserable.
Two weeks later, we decided to try again. This time, all five of the kids would go along. Hayden, my youngest, was four years old, Logan was five, Jackson seven, Ethan eleven, and Alison, the oldest, was fourteen. We were going to camp for three days, and we did not forget the poles or mattresses. I may have packed everything except the kitchen sink for this trip. I had brought a canopy, a folding table, three coolers, folding chairs, pots and pans, cooking utensils, too much food, way too many clothes, and anything else I thought we could use. We resembled the Clampetts driving through Land Between the Lakes with all of our belongings overflowing in the bed of the truck.
We arrived at the same site on the banks of Lake Barkley early in the afternoon, set up camp quickly, and went for a short hike exploring the area close to where we were staying. The kids skipped rocks in the lake, climbed on the steep bank leading back to the campsite, and swang on a rope swing left by campers before us. They were having a blast. I set a chair on the rocky beach at the edge of the lake, soaking my feet in the cold water while I watched them play.
We all slept well that night; comfortable and warm on the air mattresses we had been without before. We left the rain fly off the tent so we could see the stars through the top. I awoke the next morning before sunrise and sat on the bank of the lake watching the daylight spread across the water. I rekindled the fire and cooked our breakfast as everyone began emerging from the tent. Learning to cook over an open fire was challenging. Keeping the temperature consistent but not too hot is difficult, but I managed to find my groove and breakfast was delicious. Packing supplies for a picnic, we headed out for a day of hiking. We visited St. Stephen Church and “Hotel California,” two of the only original structures left in Land Between the Lakes. We returned to our campsite a little before dark.
That night, I cooked stuffed mushrooms, asparagus, and chicken over an open fire. Still learning, I burnt the chicken a little, but everything else turned out perfect. We caught lightning bugs, watched for shooting stars, and ended the night with a “story” session around the campfire. Hayden curled up in my lap and fell asleep; my world was perfect.
The next day, we took the kids to the Woodlands Nature Station. We walked through the small building; exploring the bee hive, and there was an aquarium with two snakes, one albino, slithering around a small branch. I wasn’t a fan of this part of the tour, but the kids were fascinated by the white snake with pink eyes. We walked through the garden surrounded by flowers; the humming of bees catching our attention as we strolled along. There was a coyote pacing behind the fenced area surrounding his home; a path worn in the ground where he circled back and forth. My kids watched in wonderment as he sniffed around the area. We had heard the coyotes so many times from our own back porch, but for my youngest kids, this was the first time they had seen one. We watched the turtles sunning on the rocks of the pond. Although small, the Nature Station offered an interesting perspective of the flora and fauna existing in Land Between the Lakes. We drove down to the Elk and Bison Prairie, a 3.5 mile loop drive, where the animals roam somewhat free through 700 acres. We returned to our campsite around dark, repeating the same routine we had the night before. Alison, Ethan, and I stayed up later than the others, talking for hours by the light of the campfire.
Before we knew it, we were packing to head home. We had a successful three days camping, we were dirty and smelly, and we were happy. We had laid the foundation for many future camping trips, with a few glitches along the way. Gathering all of our gear, I realized how many unnecessary items we had brought; so much food we hadn’t eaten, so many clothes we hadn’t worn, so many supplies we hadn’t used, and so many things we didn’t need. The point of camping is to keep it simple and cheap, and I missed the mark dramatically. I took inventory of the supplies we had used and separated those from the stuff we never touched. I had wasted hours packing and organizing all the junk, with the majority of items unused during our three-day trip. I made a list of what we NEEDED and what I could leave at home. Now, I have one large tote of camping supplies, my tent, and two coolers. I pack a couple of changes of clothes per person, and I can be ready for a camping trip in less than half an hour. Simplifying the process allows me more time to enjoy precious moments with my kids and create more memories to last a lifetime.