Last weekend we headed down to Shenandoah National Park, in order to get back into the woods to commune with nature. And by ‘into the woods’, I mean a camp site 20 feet from the road on one side, and from where we parked our car on the other. And by ‘communing with nature’, I mean sharing a community restroom with Asian exchange students, small obnoxious children, and smelly hippies. But I digress.

In all honesty, The Wife and I were delighted to get out into a really beautiful area of land with a lot of good friends, and our only real gripe is that we don’t get weekends like that more often. We have, quite literally, been looking forward to camping since the day that we got back from the honeymoon, and we weren’t disappointed.

We were both able to work from home on Friday, which allowed us to head out a little early on Friday afternoon, and we were second to the site. Our new tent, which was one of our favorite wedding gifts, was up in no time flat, and we were able to get down to some real live camping. And once again, by camping, I mean sitting around drinking, discussing who should start a fire, and waiting for everyone else to show.

On Saturday we actually slept in a bit, but were awoken to glorious bacon, eggs, and coffee straight off the campfire. Our big event of the day was a rock scramble to the top of a small peak that afforded 360 degree views. Regrettably, but understandably, if you know me, I wasn’t able to make it all the way to the top, due to a gut-wrenching, cringe-inducing, COMPLETELY RATIONAL fear of heights. Pictures looked cool, though. And I was lucky enough to split my pants on a sharp rock on the way back down, so that TOTALLY made up for not getting to be in the cool picture.

We made it through the remainder of the weekend without incident, and headed out on Sunday wanting for nothing, save that we could come back sooner, and more often, than we have to date. I can’t really put into words what it is that I like so much about camping. You go out and drink beer, and cook on fire, and sleep on the ground, and it’s rough, and rocky, and you smell bad, and then you come home and you smell like smoke for a week.

I will say this though. Camping in Shenandoah National Forest, with the mountain views, and the fall foliage, will take your breath away. On Skyline Drive, you look around, and you take it all in, and you know that there is a God. It is that beautiful, and that big, and that full of everything that we don’t get to see enough of when we fall into the daily grind of life.

I’ve told The Wife, I want to come back more often, but more than that, I want to do more, to go further, to camp harder. The Appalachian Trail runs through Shenandoah National Forest, and I want to hike it, at least a portion of it. She balks at the thought of such an idea, but someone will take me up on it. I think my best chance is my brother-in-law. Maybe my sister, my niece, my nephew and The Wife can come up and spend a few nights at a lodge somewhere on Skyline, while he and I hit the ‘AT’ for a mile, or two, or a hundred.