Happy Canoeing

We are not outdoorsy people.

I burn easily in the sun and taste delicious to mosquitos and am allergic to most things that are green or have fur. Mike has never said he enjoys camping, though his Boy Scout past has made me wonder. Spending a weekend in a "rustic" cabin did not sound like much of a vacation to me. But Mike's entire family was getting together for a canoe trip and all the less-rustic cabins were taken, so we were sort of roughing it this weekend in Michigan.

As we rolled up in front of cabin 402, an elderly man in a green hat stopped by on a golf cart to tell us that we were the first ones to stay in this brand new cabin. "We just finished it yesterday," he said. I was dismayed that this 75-year-old man was still being tasked with building cabins, but I tried to be grateful and told him it looked very nice. And it was very nice, for a cabin without water or a bathroom. It smelled like freshly cut wood and there was a ceiling fan and a mini fridge for our beer.

Nothing makes you appreciate your own home like leaving it for a while.

I whined a little, I'll admit. About the bugs and the mattress that felt a lot like it was made of granite and  the walk through the dark to the shared bathroom in the middle of the night. Camping (even cabiny camping) is only comfortable if you're really a pro and have the right paraphernalia  We brought pillows and some weak-sauce bug spray and Miller Lite. Mike's cousins had comfy campers and cushy chairs for the campfire and long sticks for roasting marshmallows  They were kind and shared with us. They also brought their adorable children, and some Scotch, and told funny stories and let us eat some of the cookies they made.

Turns out, canoeing is at turns meditative and calming and horrifically stressful. I was in front, which I soon learned meant that I would catch branches in the face when we lost control of the canoe (he was supposed to be steering, I was supposed to be navigating. There was some yelling.) Again his family was sweet and only teased us a little when we canoed directly into logs and trees instead of around them.

We weren't really there for the camping, anyway. We were there to listen to Mike's mom and her siblings tell stories about other canoe trips while we drifted into each other and those logs. And to having splashing wars on the river and eat a whole bunch of things grilled over open flames, and to pinch chubby baby knees and know that trips like this are pretty hard to pull off. And to be grateful for family and having time to relax.

I still took a really long shower when I got home.