Camping in New Hampshire

My best friend and I met when we were 2 years old and my family moved into a house next door to hers. We grew up, we got married, and each had our own families. Life got very busy and we now lived about an hour away from each other. Our friendship was important to us and we also felt it important that our children know each other so we made an effort to visit each other when the kids were young.

As they got older and their schedules got busier, it became harder to make those visits happen and, for a time, we began to lose touch. If I had to guess I would say my kids were around 7 and 9 when we went camping together with her family for the first time. You should know that I don’t think of myself as a “camper” nor do I think of her as “camper”, but camping was affordable, and wholesome, and it was an opportunity to spend time together. It quickly became a summer tradition that included her two sisters and their families.

Packing up to spend a week in the woods was not easy and every year we said to each other, “Why in the world did we make this reservation? What were we thinking?” And every year as we checked out of the campground we wholeheartedly agreed to do it again next year.

It wasn’t one of those exciting campgrounds with pools, activities, electricity, and internet connection. For 4 days and 4 nights we slept in a tent in the midst of the white mountains, relied upon a cooler which we had to restock daily with ice, and a bath house that was a 10 minute walk away.  We spent our days hiking, swimming, and kayaking and spent nights gathered around an open fire. It was beautiful with mountain views, starry nights, and the sound of the river. Something about the combination of spending time in nature and spending time together made me feel like it was the best thing I did all year long.