Tag: algonquin park

Husband Jamie and I took the kids wilderness camping at Algonquin Park a few weekends ago; it was their first time, and they loved it. When camping, one has a singular purpose: to survive. There’s no luxury to camping in the wilderness, save for a decadent square of dark chocolate at the end of the evening, or a luxuriously dry pair of socks when your body is damp to the bone. We pushed on, canoed until our arms and shoulders ached, carried our canoes and packs on our tired backs, found a place to rest, set up camp and made food to fuel us. We slept when it darkened. Then we woke up and did it again. In between, we swam and laughed, interacted with each other (without the distraction of electronic devices), made up stories, sang songs, and observed the wonder of nature. It was amazing. The rhythm of camping and portaging is simple, satisfying. I felt better about myself camping (dirty, calloused and aching) than usual, and I didn’t touch a phone or look into a mirror in over 72 hours. That’s not an accident. I was able to really feel my body on our trip. I felt the strength in my legs and back as I hefted my 65-pound pack (and added Little One’s pack to it as well, when she tired). I felt my hunger rise up as we finished setting up tents: a natural reminder to eat for fuel rather than out of habit or boredom. And I sank into sleep each night, sardined in w