Where are all the campfires?

I’ve been camping since I was a boy. My family vacations while growing up where almost always a weeklong excursion to a state or national park. Dad would gas up the station wagon and pull the camper behind. Now that I am an adult, I can fully realize how much money he saved not checking into hotels for his week (or two) away from the shop where he worked.

Not to say that I didn’t love camping. Sure, it was difficult to get and stay clean while camping. Showers were in houses shared with scores of strangers. We didn’t have laundry, maid service, cushy beds.

What we had was time out in nature. We had cooking on a camp stove. (Dad’s pancakes are still legendary for their burnt on the outside, doughy in the middle consistency.) we had a week of a family of five living together in an area of roughly fifty square feet.

This summer, we decided to take our family vacation in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. We would use my father’s pop-up camper loaned to us and stay at three state parks in Michigan. We would camp for nine nights. The four of us, me, wife, two children, would experience family vacations the way that I had when I was a kid.

The vacation was pleasant. We escaped scorching heat in Milwaukee (on the day it almost reached one-hundred degrees Fahrenheit in Milwaukee, we were in sweatshirts across the lake). We saw plenty of great sites. Each state park we stayed at offered something different.

We experienced much of what I did as a child. Besides the day excursions exploring tourist attractions, we enjoyed sleeping in one room. We ate outside. We shared our bathrooms and shower rooms with strangers (not at the same time). And we relaxed around campfires.

Seldom did we end the day without a campfire. Dad would start the blaze. We would roast marshmallows or eat popcorn. Mom would heat water for hot chocolate. We would enjoy watching the summer daylight fade. The world would turn dark. The sky overhead would light with thousands of stars. The campground would be filled with he sounds of other families around the campfire. Kids would be shouting and laughing. Logs cracked. Sparks flew into the sky.

On the second campground I went to, I decided one night just to stretch my legs. I walked around the circuit where all the other campers were right about dusk. I was struck by two things. First, using a pop-up was akin to sleeping in a cave. There were still a few campers who went more primitive than we did and slept in tents. I saw other pop-ups. But the majority were in hard-sided trailers, much more elaborate than our simple lodging.

And for those in those travel trailers, some occupants were out like I was, enjoying the fires they started. However, noticeably, many were not. I was surprised at this. How could one camp without enjoying a campfire. To camp and not have a fire at night seemed to be missing some kind of unwritten rule.

Perplexed, I searched for an answer. While staring at one camper, I noticed a foreign, blue glow coming through one of the windows. Aha. The answer was apparent. Instead of enjoying a fire, the people inside were gathered around something else. Not necessary for heat, light, cooking, and protection like fire was for our ancestors. No, the modern camper with his or her trailer cannot leave home without bringing a screen with them. Many of the campers were inside watching television.

To be clear, I don’t begrudge anyone for wanting to camp in comfort. If they can afford the trailer and the necessary truck or large SUV required to pull it, more power to them. I probably will never have one, more because my wife is hard down on not buying new vehicles of any type due to the steep depreciation they experience (thanks Dave Ramsey). If I had unlimited cash and I desire to just be a bum for a year and camp around the country, I would insist on getting one.

I also don’t begrudge anyone for wanting to watch television. We watch television in my family like any other family. Even if we aren’t watching television, our eyes are affixed to other screens.

Growing up, I watched a lot of television. Summers were spent wasting in front of the television from dawn until dusk.

It was these trips camping that was the necessary break in my TV viewing habits. Now that I am adult, I don’t recollect fondly all the time that I spent on the couch or on the floor, my eyes never leaving the screen. I remember with much more nostalgia and longing the vacations we took. I remember camping in South Dakota, Minnesota, Michigan, all over Wisconsin. Our two-week excursion to Glacier and Yellowstone will forever remain etched in my mind.

Again, I am fortunate to live in the United States of America. If a person wants to tow their camper any distance and spend evenings inside watching television, I’m not going to be the prude to shame them. It was just a bit sad that the primitive aspects of camping that make it so memorable and charming are quietly growing more antiquated. I wish it wasn’t so.