Oh, do I ever want to go home. Really, I do. After all, there is no place like it, right Toto?
I know a couple of weeks camping in few state parks hardly qualifies me for my own Survivorwoman show on Discovery. Come on, admit it, though, you know you’d watch. I can see it now me versus nature with just my wits and my trusty red crocs. Huge hit, huge. Call me Discovery, seriously.
Alright, I know how this works ruby slippers on (I told you I wasn’t a practical packer) and a click, click, click of my heels and then I say “There’s no place like…” What was that Toto? What do you mean it isn’t time yet?
But I waaaaaaaaant to go home! Home, where I walk only a few feet to use the bathroom instead of a 1/2 mile, and shower without shoes and absent of all unwanted visitors human or arachnid. The land of clean sheets and down pillows with food that isn’t stored in our car to avoid unwanted bear attention. WiFi, cable TV, a Starbucks on every corner where they not only know my name but my very (and I mean very) specific order. But do you want to know what I miss most of all, Toto? Something so rare even Glinda cannot conjure it up? Alone time! Sweet, blissful, time behind a door, in my room, alone. I have bonded with family, communed with nature so now let’s blow this…
Sorry, lost myself a little, a mind can wander out here in the bush.
Back to reality.
With one last day of “roughing it” ahead of us. The plan is simple. After 11 days of hiking, mountain biking, tubing, and just generally trying to figure out “WTF” we were doing we decided a few peaceful hours boating on Claytor Lake was the perfect end to our summer trip.
Claytor Lake is a 21-mile-long lake created in 1939 when the Appalachian Power Company built a nearby dam to provide water for the Claytor Hydroelectric Plant. At the bottom of the lake lie the remains of a small community and the history of three families that helped settle the land dating back to the mid-1700’s. The irony that our trip to escape progress and harken back to a simpler time actually involved us floating over a town that was ultimately erased to make way for progress was not lost on me.
Back on land we enjoyed a little nap and then set about cooking our final campfire dinner. However, it seemed nature too was ready for the Vomacka’s to return home because thanks to severe storm warnings we rushed dinner and ended up with an epic fail of a dinner that was half undercooked and half overcooked. Thankfully, our wilderness contained a nearby pizza joint. With full bellies, weary bodies, and a long early day ahead of us we tucked in for our last night under the stars and just like that with a click, click, click of the heels and few chants of no place like home our Boondock Adventure had come to an end.
A dozen showers later.
I found myself reflecting on what I learned on our family adventure.
First, we are hooked on camping. Somewhere between the first sunset and the first sunrise we became believers and we are now looking for a few weekend adventures.
Next, without daily life’s distractions my husband and I were reminded that our children weren’t the only ones that needed to learn how to have a conversation. Of course, we talk about work, kids and what we want for dinner but the pleasure of simple conversation about nothing of real significance, now that was a real gift.
I also realized what an appalling amount of time we waste living in a wired world. With thumbs at rest and eyes up we saw a great big wild world out there and most importantly we saw each other. While I don’t see us going off grid completely, I do know our new camper will be paying us back much more than we’d ever hoped.
Gotta go I think I hear the phone ringing, Discovery is that you?
Until next time, Happy Camping.
My nemesis “The Shower”
My partner in battle
Home 2
Boondock Adventures 