Camping in Contentment

It’s nice, sometimes, to get away from the pace of life and wander in the forest. The change in scenery refreshes the mind and restores the spirit. If done in the company of friends, adventure is sure to follow.

***

On a Friday afternoon, I set out with four guys from my dorm – Josh, Kaleb, Brian, and Daniel – for a camping trip. Our group was originally set to include more people, but for reasons of schoolwork and sleep, the rest dropped out. But you can’t do anything for the people who say no. We weren’t about to let their decisions spoil our fun.

Passing through the campus gates, we depart the world of hot showers, prepared meals, and beds so soft that you sink into the middle. But there’s no need to feel sorry for us. We are loaded. Food, water, sleeping bags, firewood, pots, pans, and silverware fill our backpacks.

The route is a familiar one. We travel a short stretch of dusty road, up the trail to the railways, and along the tracks towards the valley. The turnoff for the falls is two hours away.

Two hours of walking along the railway may not sound like the most exciting way spend a Friday evening, but these aren’t ordinary railway tracks. They slice through the clay-red dirt and rock of the escarpment. The Great Rift Valley stretches below – fading into the hazy air of evening.

I am not alone either. In the company of friends, what would normally be drudgery, becomes enjoyment. What would normally be work, becomes play. You find delight in the simplest of things.

The rhythm of footfalls breaks only on occasion. Once, we stop to answer the call of nature. Twice, we stop in attempt to add a few birds to our already abundant supply of food. Attempt is the key word there.

Reaching the trailhead, conveniently marked by an abandoned pumping station, we enter the forest. Just as we start our assent through the bushes, Brian falls into a hole on the side of the trail. It is cause for a good laugh. Though laughing is probably not the best response to your friend’s misfortune.

When hiking, it’s easy to get caught up with the destination and miss everything around you. You forget that the hike itself is half of the adventure. Thankfully, we remember to stop.

The base of a waterfall serves as a rest point. It’s beautiful. The falls may lack the majesty and scale of places like Victoria Falls, but are just as lovely.

Maybe it’s the isolation of the location. The falls are an hour’s hike from the nearest sign of human life, the railway tracks, and three hours’ hike from home

Perhaps it’s the effort it takes to get there – the hiking, bushwhacking, and climbing. The most precious things in life require hard work.

But most likely it’s the company of friends. It’s seeing something beautiful and being able to share it with someone.

We are content.

I take a few pictures. Daniel sets of a few firecrackers. And Josh attempts to hunt a few birds. Attempt is again the key word there.

***

Not long afterwards, we reach Woodcutter’s Cave – our home for the night. Vines and branches make the decor, snaking their way over the rocks. The stone walls offer shelter from the wind. And the sound of falling water fills the air with music.

While Kaleb and I work to start a fire, the rest head out to find some firewood. Recent rains make the ground damp and fires difficult to get going. But if you persist and try enough times, eventually you get what you need. The others return to add fuel to our efforts.

With the fire roaring, we begin our feast. Our humble cave becomes a banquet hall. Chai opens the meal – an excellent option. From there we move through a series of dishes: crushed ramen noodles, baked beans, hot dogs, and macaroni and cheese.

Being the cooks, waiters, and customers all in one, the meal comes as we prepare it. While waiting for the main course to cook, steak with barbecue sauce, we pause for a moment of entertainment. Three bottle rockets light up the night sky with a flash and echo off the ravine with a boom.

As we eat, we tell stories – hopes for the future after graduation, regrets from our time in Africa, and memories of good days spent together. Laughter fills the cave as we share embarrassing moments. We have everything we need. We have each other.

We are content.

The remainder of the evening passes in much the same way as before. Conversations around a fire. Eating the meat as it cooks. Time fading away.

***

We must have gone to sleep sometime, because the morning arrives with its biting chill. None of us hurry to get out of our sleeping bags. But you can’t stay in bed forever. Eventually you have to get up and go on with the day.

A delightful breakfast of toast and eggs gets us going. We start packing our gear, have a second breakfast of chicken noodle soup, finish packing, and begin the journey home.

On our way down into the ravine, I grab a branch for support. Before I can shift my weight, the branch decides that I weigh more than I should and snaps off the tree.

Down the hill I slide. Rocks, bushes, dirt, and Kaleb blur through my vision as I tumble. I’m scratched and scraped, but not broken. While washing off in the stream, my companions give me a hard time. It is fitting that I was among those that laughed at my friend’s misfortune the day before.

Going home often seems shorter than the outbound journey, and we arrive back on campus a few short hours later. It was a fun adventure, but it’s good to come home. A hot shower sounds nice.

We are content.

***

For all that we were missing, we had enough – food, water, shelter, and company. The food could have been fancier, the shelter more comfortable, or the entertainment more extravagant, but we didn’t mind.

We expected it. We didn’t go camping and think that we would be in luxury. Once we were in the middle of the woods, we had little ability to change anything. Free from expectation, what we had became enough.

We were mindful of what we did have. It’s easy to look at life through the lens of absence. But in the different environment, we saw things differently. We paid attention. We found beauty in the simple.

We only had each other to compare to. No one had more than anyone else, so we didn’t feel that we were lacking. They were satisfied, so I was satisfied.

***

Back at my dorm, I turn on the shower, anticipating the warmth that is to come. Five minutes pass. Despite all my hopes, wishes, and prayers, the water in the shower remains cold. I step into the torrent of ice and clean myself off. Such is life.

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A tree to hang your hat on. I made this photo in southern Sudan.