First Family Camping Trip

Several months ago I decided to plan a family camping trip. I wanted to sleep in tents and enjoy nature. I wanted to "rough it." I recalled the camping trips of my childhood, and knew Connor would love it.

My parents agreed to come along (and I honestly don't believe we could have done it without them). We decided to take the trip over Memorial Day Weekend. I wanted to go to Cherokee, a small town on the Cherokee Indian Reservation that sits next to the Smoky Mountain National Park in North Carolina.

Cherokee is a tacky town. Architecturally, it's stuck in the 1970s. We visited it when I was a child, and I have always been drawn to it. With the exception of the casino which was built in the 90s, it hasn't changed at all since my first trip in the early 80s. It amazes me that an entire town can remain so static. Maybe that's why I'm drawn to it. It transports me back to the time when I was a small brown-eyed preschooler begging Mom to buy me an Indian doll in a purple deerskin dress (which I still have, by the way). Even though I know many of the tourist shops depict a historically inaccurate picture of the Cherokee, I was dying to take Connor.

The week preceding the trip Lee asked if I had given any thought to the weather.

"I'm an optimist," I replied.

"Well, there's a 40% chance of rain. Have you thought about what we'll do if it rains?"

"It won't rain," I replied.

Saturday night I lay in bed and listened to the rain lightly tapping the tent overhead. I looked at my two babies sleeping next to me, secure and oblivious to my concern. I worried that I wouldn't be able to keep them dry and warm. Eventually I drifted off to sleep. A few hours later Laila stirred. I changed her diaper and breathed a sigh of relief that the rain had ceased. She smiled and I cooed back. Connor stirred. And then the rain began again.

Our first morning was wet. I had been looking forward to the "Camp Breakfast" of my childhood--eggs, bacon, and toast cooked over a Coleman stove. But since it was raining we settled on The Pancake House in Cherokee--the one where the roof goes all the way to the parking lot. On the way over Mom reminded me that this was the restaurant where I discovered strawberry syrup over 25 years ago. I actually remember that breakfast. I was hoping to relive the experience, maybe share it with Connor; however, they no longer have strawberry syrup on the menu.

It was a dreary morning in Cherokee, so after breakfast we decided to make the trip through the Smoky Mountains to Gatlinburg. The trip over was overcast and gray; except for the winding roads, it was difficult to tell we were even in mountains. But once in Gatlinburg, it was sunny and humid. Lee and Connor rode the chair lift up the mountain. Connor was fascinated. We walked around Gatlinburg and did a little shopping before returning to Cherokee.

On the way back we stopped at Newfound Gap. Connor had a ball climbing some rocks near a monument. It amazed me how agile he is. He and I hiked a small portion of the Appalachian trail. Connor had a blast; I had a difficult time pulling him off of it--he kept wanting to go just a bit further. We returned to the monument, where Lee, Mom, Dad, and Laila were waiting. As we were walking to the car we noticed a crowd of people ogling over the mountain. We looked down, and about 100 yards below us was a baby black bear.

When we returned to Cherokee the weather was beautiful. We went to the campsite and cooked hot dogs over a fire. The nights at the campsite were the best part of the trip. We stayed at Arrowhead Campground near Cherokee, and admittedly I was disappointed when I first saw it--it was more "campy" and less "woodsy" than I was hoping for. But there was a grassy lawn in the middle of the campground, and our campsite overlooked the playground, which is where Connor spent all of his time. In retrospect I realize this was much more ideal than the remote primitive site I had envisioned. Connor quickly befriended all the other children who were staying there, and he played until it was too dark to see while we sat at the campsite and enjoyed some kid-free time. Watching him play reminded me of my own childhood, and I recalled the endless summer days that stretched into warm summer nights.

The trip ended too soon. On Monday morning we enjoyed our Camp Breakfast. We packed up. We skipped the tourist shops and took the scenic route home. We stopped at a picnic site in Pisgah National Forest, and Lee and Connor waded in the stream. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packed up, and came home.

Connor had a great time. He can't decide what the best part was--it changes every five minutes. My parents seemed to have a lot of fun as well. I am already daydreaming about the next camping trip. And despite his jokes to the contrary, I think Lee had fun. .

My advice for camping with small children:
1) Stay flexible;
2) Keep it simple;
3) Skip the primitive sites;
4) Maintain a sense of humor; and
5) Purchase a waterproof tent.