Life is about survival of the fittest and camping even more so.
This past week, my friend Kelly and I packed our things and headed off to the mountains for an existential road trip and camping extravaganza the likes of which have not been seen since sports reporter Brandon MacLeod packed up and went off on a walkabout in B.C.
Kelly was fighting a cold and I was fighting exhaustion but still, we set off, determined to have a few days of fun before returning to real life.
Arriving at our campsite outside of Jasper in the midst of a severe thunderstorm was a pleasant way to kick things off, and setting up a tent in the pouring rain was even better. The best part was when the winds snapped two tent poles and the tent spontaneously developed a handful of leaks.
Hiding under raincoats draped over sleeping bags, flinching at every crack of thunder, we spent our first night giggling nervously and whispering about the possibility of trees falling on us and crushing us.
The next day dawned bright and sunny. We rode sturdy horses up the side of a mountain, along a narrow goat trail covered in slippery mud and freshly fallen trees. Bears fled in terror at the sight of a line of horses steadily marching along, which is lucky, because it meant I didn't have to flee in terror as well.
The next day, we dismissed plans for white water rafting due to Kelly's lingering illness, and instead boarded a train destined for the bustling metropolis of Dunster, B.C., which consisted of a general store and a dirt road.
While on the train, surrounded by other tourists, all over the age of 65, we joined our fellow adventurers in a late afternoon nap, missing most of the scenery we had paid so dearly to see. I have no regrets.
In the end, I spent a few days fruitlessly trying to build a fire which never happened. I didn't get to roast a single marshmallow. I saw a handful of wildlife, including elk, some other things that looked like elk but probably weren't, and a coyote who was very startled when I nearly ran him over. Kelly was attacked by a weasel, a fact I would have blamed on hallucinations brought on by her worsening illness, but she took some video of the event.
Unfortunately, the combination of storms, hot weather, cold nights and hot springs conspired to turn Kelly's cold into pneumonia and a trip to the hospital. We came home early.
In the end, I was left with a huge appreciation of the fact that we as a species have evolved to such an extent that if left to survive in the wilderness, we would be wiped out within the week. If the pneumonia, storms, and bears didn't take us out, we'd probably just roll over and wait for death to end our misery of having to sleep on the ground.
Maybe our inability to use a hatchet without nearly losing a leg, therefore absolutely failing in a days-long quest to start a fire, would lead us to expire from exposure.
If we somehow managed to survive all of that, I have absolutely no doubt that the crazy weasels would have us destroyed within the week.
