What it was like camping during the Pandemic (…It’s not like what you’d think.)
Preparing for a weekend away of camping, I was packing the usual odds, ends, and supplies that often make the cut; my sleeping bag, a tent, a sleeping pad, a hammock, a lighter, my hygiene kit, a headlamp, enough food to assemble campfire ‘Hobo dinners’ and of course, chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers for S’mores.
As I closed the lid to our cooler, synched the final drawstring on my trusty backpack and began hauling both out to the car, I thought I was all set for a weekend away at Wilson State Park — a place that boasts to be home to (true to its word) ‘the prettiest lake in Kansas.’
The park was just over a 2-hour drive, and I was giddy to get on the road.
Giddy to go anywhere, really.
Giddy to just get away.
The weekend ahead would be an escape. For immersed in the Smoky Hills of Kansas with Wilson lake’s picturesque rock-faced cliffs and refreshing aqua waters, my husband I would be on our first overnight trip and the farthest away from our suburban Kansas home that we’d been since early February.
“Did you grab your mask?”
My husband asked as I made my way towards the truck, my loaded-down backpack in tow.
He was filling up the car with his own backpack and hopes for the weekend ahead — a fishing pole, bow-and-arrow set, our baseball and softball gloves, our bikes, a checkers board, cards (… There were a lot of activities on our agenda.)
The night before, as I’d watched him digging through our garage for each of these items, I’d thought to myself that just maybe he was over-preparing for a single weekend of camping. But when he asked if I had my mask, I quickly realized I was the one who was under-prepared.
In my haste to get on the road, I’d completely forgotten to pack it, even though I’d run through our packing checklist more times than I care to admit.
I’d packed too many articles of clothing and too many other odds and ends that probably wouldn’t go to use, but “the mask” had slipped through the cracks.
Truthfully, I hadn’t even added it to my packing list.
Being that I work in a job that interacts with the public and I live in a city that’s mandated wearing a face-covering in all public places, most days it feels like “the mask” has become about as familiar to me as another limb over these past few months.
But even so, in my excitement of preparing to embark on one of my favorite summer activities, my mind had temporarily let me forget the world that we’re all currently living in.
I walked over to my car and reached in for the Ziploc bag that holds the three cloth masks that I cycle through wearing and washing every week. And as I pulled out my bright blue mask — thinking it was the cheeriest color I had — my thoughts drifted to pondering over how different camping might look this year.
After all, the rest of the world has already changed into what people keep referring to as ‘a new normal,’ so how could I expect campsites and state parks to be spared any variations?
But to my pleasant surprise, camping has (for the most part) remained through this pandemic to be the one thing that I’ve always found it to be: a magical escape from the real world.
When we got to the campground, the first thing that proved to me just how acclimated I’ve become to this ‘new normal’ world is that I found it weird to see people walking around without masks. Given, they were at their own campsites, completely adhering to social distancing guidelines, but still. It’s been a while since I’ve seen multiple faces without them being half-covered by “the mask.”
It surprised me at how surprising it was.
The other thing I noticed that was different was how every one of the soap dispensers in the public bathroom was full. And not just halfway, but to MAX level.
Now, if you’ve ever been camping before, you know that alone is quite astonishing…
It also intrigued me to see what I believed to be (and nicknamed) a COVID-cleaning crew that came into the bathrooms each night to thoroughly wipe everything down. Another rarity around campsites, but one, admittedly, I wasn’t the least bit disappointed about. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen camp bathrooms so tidy.
There were a few other noticeable differences — masks still being worn in local gas stations, campers keeping their distance more by waving from campsite to campsite instead of walking up to introduce themselves, or have a conversation and offer a warm handshake — but overall, camping was the same.
My husband and I still found what we went searching for; a few days’ vacation well spent enjoying mother nature that rejuvenated our spirits.
During our time at Wilson State Park, we fished, we laid in the sun and we swam in coves with waters where I could see down to my toes.
We looked above at night and took notice of the stars for the first time in a while, our eyes even catching glimpses of a shooting few.
We breathed in the scent of wood charring against a dancing flame and admired the fireflies whose glowing lights never fail to show their wonder.
We heard the warm sounds of families laughing, conversing, and memories being brought to life that may stretch on to last a lifetime for those involved.
And we received what we had come to Wilson State Park looking for — a few days of stolen escape from the Pandemic, to where life could feel, even if just momentarily, how it used to be.
