I’ve never really been a fan of camping, even when I was little. If I was told I was going camping with family or friends, I would dread it until the day came. When I was little I enjoyed shopping, and being in Los Angeles. I usually ate at good places, and I always went to see a movie at the Grove. I never grew up with the aspect of camping. I don’t think it’s the actual idea of camping; a big part of it is hiking. That makes me sound like I’m not an active person, but I am; it’s just hiking. The feeling of being drenched in sweat with no water left. To walking up a mountain steeper than my wall just to see a pretty view, is something I would never want to willingly do. I will never understand the people who wake up and choose to go on a hike in a hundred degree weather.
My school has required camping trips twice a year, and some aren’t so bad while others are really challenging. Backpacking in the Sespe mountains and waking up to having to hike was horrible. We had little food and we had to filter our own water from creeks we found on the way. It was one of the hardest, most traumatizing things I have ever done. It was the first day of the backpacking trip and we were told we were only hiking four miles. We ended up hiking 12. Although camping does make me more grateful for the little things. Like sleeping in my own bed, having running water, showering, good food, and civilization. But waking up in the morning at 5 am trying to hold back tears before going isn’t the best experience. If I wasn’t forced to camp, I would never do it again.
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