Memories to Last a Lifetime · by Andrea MacEachern

I love the luxuries I have available to me at my fingertips when I’m in the comfort of my own home. Meals cooked on stove, laundry done in a washer and dryer and a dishwasher doing my dishes. The feel of a warm, dry bed and clean shower with hot water is always nice too. However, after a long winter stuck in the house, by time spring arrives, I’m sick of these walls and the luxuries within them! The May 24th weekend arrives, the first long weekend to kick off summer. Time to break out the camping gear and break the monotony that was the last eight months.

At 26, I’m all grown up and out on my own which means I have to work to pay my bills. My yearly camping trip must fall in the weeklong vacation I take each year in August with some mini trips taken on the few long weekends that fall between May and September. Each trip is memorable in its own way, but it’s the long family camping trips of my childhood that are the most unforgettable.

From as far back as I remember, Broad Cove campground in the Highlands National Park on Cape Breton Island, was my second home for two months of the year. Every July, my family loaded the car with the bare essentials and embarked on the three-hour trek to the mountains. Over Seal Island Bridge, around Kelly’s Mountain, Across St. Anne’s Bay on a small car ferry, and finally, the last leg of the journey over Cape Smokey Mountain.

Camp was set up immediately upon arrival and the picnic table was set for our first meal without anything but an open fire and plastic dishes and utensils. My parents felt that one way to get us kids to grow to appreciate nature and the simple things was to show us that life is still enjoyable while roughing it. As long as we had each other, a fire over which to cook our meals and roast marshmallows, the ocean a couple of hundred meters away, a sky lit by millions of stars and a quietness unknown in the city, we would be fine.

In fact, we were better than fine. Even when things went wrong, it was still fine. I have my fair share of memories of camping disasters. Waking up in a flooded tent after a torrential downpour. Thunder that is so loud when the sound reverberates off the mountains it sounds like the world is going to end. Lightning strikes that came so close at times, we had to jump in the car, pajamas and all, driving away for fear of being struck. Then there was the time I happened to glance up from my towel where I lay sunning on the beach to see a giant freak wave heading straight for us. The aftermath: half of our belongings floated out to sea and what didn’t was scattered across the beach! Or the time I came face to face with a wild animal near the bushes behind the washhouse. A cougar? A bear? A coyote? Who knows! I ran too fast to stick around to find out! And I’ll never forget the summer I decided to take a dip in an unfamiliar lake, and ended up with swimmer’s itch. For the next two weeks, it looked like I had chicken pox! But I look at all of these things as adventures and learning experiences that I can now laugh at and reminisce. There are good memories too. Some of the best times in my life happened in that park. Meeting new friends from all over the world. Watching a pod of humpback whales feeding on Capelin only meters from shore. Lying under a blanket on the beach while the most spectacular meteor shower I’ve ever witnessed takes place overhead. Happening across a huge moose trying to take a drink from a stream as a playful, young, red fox ran under and around him! Jumping 60 feet off a cliff into a shark infested lagoon. Enjoying campfire gatherings that didn’t clean up until the wee hours of the morning. Eating marshmallows until we were sick to our stomachs! Hiking to the top of Broad Cove Mountain. Swimming at Mary Anne Falls.

And having only one regret? Not taking enough pictures!

Than came the end of August and although it always seemed like we just got there, the end of summer was upon us and it was time to head back home to reality and prepare for another long, hard winter.

Those days may be long gone, but the memories will never be forgotten. I’ve carried the tradition and someday I’ll have kids of my own and I’ll have a hand in creating memorable camping experiences and teach them about the simple way of life.

Check out Andrea’s blog at:
anotherdayforgrace.blogspot