Ahou Naderpour Ardestani (11) | STAFF REPORTER
As a paranoid homebody, I was quick to come up with excuses when my friend Sophie asked me if I wanted to join her family for camping. It’s easy to give people excuses, but fully convincing yourself is a bit trickier. The real reason I immediately dismissed the idea was because my life revolves around schedules and worries and to-do lists and a deep, desperate desire for organization. Two days away from home? Without access to my pantry of food, drawers of clean clothes, and pages of lists? Unimaginable.
But then I realized that by refusing to go camping I was going to confine myself in the house, where I had been for the past year of online school. Maybe it was time to go out. Beyond my backyard, beyond Walmart and Costco. So, in a moment full of doubt and excitement, I told Sophie I was in.
I felt uneasy when Sophie told me lunch and dinner would be hot dogs and hamburgers for both days. I decided I’d simply have to skip some meals in order to survive. Sophie’s mom did not accept such a thing.
When Sophie would explain that I was not hungry, she’d reply with It is not her choice. She will eat.
And I’m glad I did. There is something incomparable about a sausage roasted over campfire. Or steaming patties between soft buns, eaten with two other people crammed in a one-person tent because it suddenly started to rain cats and dogs. I did not get sick, I did not gain weight, and I did not go to bed hungry.
When I’m at home, I sleep in my own room. I have a large bed all to myself, and I shut the door because the smallest noises can keep me up. We spent the first night in that one-person tent. Sophie was two inches away from me, I could barely move. I shifted uncomfortably, my back hurting from the weird mattress, envying Sophie who was floating in the realm of dreams, or so I thought. The sneaky sound of giggling hovered in the air. Sophie was awake, and also wishing for morning to come. Somehow amidst the quiet whispering, silent laughs, and the occasional voice of her mom shushing us, we both fell asleep. When we woke up, slices of sunshine leaked through the tent. The view of the campsite in the morning, glazed with sun and glistening with dew, was magical.
Compared to the second night, the first was a picnic. We all knew there was going to be a thunderstorm the second night, but Sophie and her mom aren’t the types to be scared off by some rain. Sophie and I slept in the car, or at least she did. Sophie can sleep through an apocalypse. I, on the other hand, spent hours tossing and turning, trying to pass the time. As the storm roared on it seemed to flip the campsite. Sophie was sleeping in the front passenger seat, but I felt uncomfortable sitting behind the wheel so I moved all the luggage and junk to the driver’s seat and lied down in the back instead. I must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of minutes because the next thing I knew I was jolted awake by a loud banging on the car window. The tent had leaked and Sophie’s mom was standing by the car, drenched, desperate for us to let her in. I immediately snapped into action as if I hadn’t just been asleep, moving all the luggage back from the driver’s seat as fast as my arms could go to make room for her. Sophie’s mom stayed in the car for awhile but went back to the tent when the rain calmed a bit, all the while I was awake. I spent the next hours using up the 1% of my phone, finishing off the caramel corn, and talking to a nearby tree to pass the time. Finally, at three in the morning, my eyes started to feel heavy and I dozed off. When I woke up a few hours later, the rain had stopped, but a thick fog had cloaked everything. It looked like a ghost town, and when I looked at my reflection of tangled curls and dazed red eyes, I could have been a ghost myself. The place was a trailer camp, so all the other campers who had watched the storm from inside their trailers congratulated us on surviving. Nearly going insane in a car doesn’t sound like an accomplishment, but I felt kind of proud telling people I’d spent a whole night in a car in a storm.
By the time our trip was coming to an end I was happy to be heading home, where my family and hot shower I dearly missed were waiting for me, but I was delighted that I took the risk and went on an adventure. I told Sophie we should make this our tradition and come every summer, to which she cheerfully agreed.
