It seems as though I’ve written quite a few “fluffy” columns lately—garage sales, new puppies, vacations, and the like. I feel like I should tackle something more . . . intellectual. I should give you my opinion on the various Republican presidential candidates or perhaps solve that pesky world hunger problem. Alas, I am unable to contemplate anything complex as my mind is completely, totally, idyllically relaxed. You see—I am now the proud owner of one of my life-long dreams. For my birthday, my husband bought me a motor home. Yeppers—the Breitsprechers can now live in luxury while we commune with nature.
Well, sorta. I guess we can travel as long as the communing doesn’t happen very far from home. You see, the camper isn’t exactly a brand-spanking new one. As a matter of fact, I was only 12 years old the year it was built. That’s right—my new home-away-from-home is a 1977 Dodge Brougham, which we have fondly nicknamed the “Bacon Mobile”—and I couldn’t be happier.
I have a pastoral image of my newfound life in a camper. First of all, the Breitsprechers will miraculously have much more free time in which to enjoy our camper. I will also miraculously learn how to cook, as my dream involves me making gourmet meals and homemade cookies in my motor home’s kitchen, while watching my children frolic with the flora and the fauna in the distance. Oh yeah—and the kids will get along perfectly—that’s part of my vision, too.
We’ve only taken the camper out of the driveway once—and that was only as far as the Dayton Oak Park camp ground. We decided not to go very far on our first trip—to work the bugs out. This was probably a wise idea, because when we went to leave—the battery was dead and we had to call a friend to come jumpstart Paradise. We still haven’t figured out how to hook up the water or the stove—but, hey, it’s a work in progress!
Because our first trip was so very close to home, I was able to do most of the cooking at the house and didn’t need the stove anyway. I was also able to run home and pick up anything I forgot. I have to brag a little—I didn’t really forget very much. You see, I had spent the week between when we bought the camper (which Dean found on Craig’s List) and when we were finally able to go camping loading my little paradise with supplies for every conceivable situation. I didn’t have to buy much because I have been secretly shopping for my dream camper for years. Whenever I was at a garage sale, an auction, or even a really good sale at Target and there was something that would be just PERFECT for my future motor home, I bought it—just in case. Because of this little obsession, we already owned plastic dishes, an extra set of silverware, cookware, serving utensils, extra bedding and towels, an 8-man tent, a small fire pit, and a portable hammock. Yep—you read correctly—I bought a “bag hammock” at a garage sale this spring for the grand price of $10—just in case I ever went camping.
When Josie, Paddy, and I reached the campground one Saturday afternoon, the first thing I set up was that hammock. Then Paddy and I tried to set up the tent. It didn’t come with instructions and it became obvious pretty quick that we’d have to call in reinforcements. Thank Heaven we weren’t very far from home—one quick phone call and our neighbor was at the campground, with a rubber mallot, a pair of pliers, and more patience than me.
By the time Dean arrived, I had French dip sandwiches cooking in the crock pot, fresh sweet corn cooking on the grill, a scented candle burning on the table, and was sipping a glass of wine while reclining in my hammock, reading a little Shakespeare. It was pretty much perfection.
Because we were in town, the kids were still able to ride their bikes down the hill and hang out with friends. Dean was able to drive back home and pick up additional items—like the EZ UP tent we used as a canopy over the picnic table and MacBeth, who loved frolicking in the grass. We built a beautiful fire and had a lovely evening.
Paddy’s plan for sleeping in the tent didn’t happen—but that was okay as he was forced to sleep in the upper compartment with me. My kids don’t want to cuddle very often anymore, so this was yet another treat in an already treat-filled weekend. We woke up the next morning, rekindled the fire, and enjoyed our coffee alfresco. I had even brought along my Keurig coffee machine, so we had a gourmet experience while watching the golfers arrive for a tournament at the course. Pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.
It has been a month since that first trip, and we have yet to find another unstructured weekend so we can recreate the experience. We hope to make a least one more foray into the wild before the snow flies. During the winter months, I will be converting the Bacon Mobile into the “House Divided” mobile, as we have decided to decorate it in Iowa and Iowa State gear.
Come next spring, we may not be taking a trip to the Grand Canyon, like the Brady Bunch, but I’m betting we’ll be all fired up for an overnight to Don Williams or Dolliver. This whole camping thing—it’s gonna be great.
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