Recently I spent some time camping in south eastern Queensland, Australia in a rented $150,000 motorhome. It was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life. The thing is, it all went exactly as planned. It was not only predictable, it was predicted – by me — that I would not enjoy it. Yet, I did it, clinging to the hope that I had grown or changed or learned to enjoy certain things despite a pretty good inkling that I wouldn’t enjoy them.

Let me say from the get-go that I am not a big fan of camping. It is not for lack of trying. Like sailing, camping strikes me as one of those naturally peaceful things every one of us victims of the post-industrial age should enjoy. Over the years, each time the emotional wounds of a previous foray healed, I’ve made another attempt to enjoy another form of camping. Continue reading 01. Hardwood Island →