For as much as we get around, we’ve never taken the girls camping—and that means I haven’t been camping in nearly a decade! Sometimes, when you live in the mountains, it becomes an excuse to not drive up into the wilderness, rather than a reason to go; so we decided to change that.
We packed up the Jeep and made for Mt. Evans wilderness, on a Tuesday, so we’d have our pick of some of the free campsites. The girls got lessons in setting up a tent and whittling marshmallow roasting sticks (you tell me which one is more important!), and then we went on a hike along what is normally a stream, but is currently a rushing river.
Back at camp that night, angry clouds threatened to rain us out, but just as soon as the thunder was booming overhead, so did the storm move along and leave us a pretty rainbow. The girls insisted that, when you camp, you’re supposed to tell campfire stories. It turns out they don’t have any, but they’re capable of dictating full novels if you let them; so instead, we learned to play “Pass the Story”. I wore my pine needle jammies, and was surprised to learn that they’re not camouflage, even in a pine forest.
I’m really not fussy or high maintenance about camping, contrary to popular belief. I rather like it—until it’s time to go to sleep. The woes of an insomniac. The second-to-last photo is actual footage of how I feel the morning after attempting to sleep in a tent, just for transparency’s sake.
If you’re a camper, 10/10 would recommend this spot; but as a Coloradoan, I’m not supposed to tell you that, so just remember: you didn’t hear it from me.