Tags » Roughing It

Why??

Why?

People without the camping affliction often ask, “when you have a comfy bed, indoor plumbing, television, and the internet at home, why would you want to go sleep on the ground with the bugs?” 443 more words

Camping

Home, away from home

This was our home for the last two nights. No hydro, no running water, a 1/2 klick hike back to the car. Leaving behind the internet, phones, radio, all of civilizations’ ‘advantages’ was delightful. 6 more words

Friday favorites: 5 things about Irma

favorites? i dunno about that. it has been a rough week here in Atlanta. not to say my first world problems are anything in comparison to the people who really experienced the brunt of this hurricane in Florida (including one set of parents and several college friends) or Harvey in Texas.   1,157 more words

Family

The Cant Opener

The loneliest place in the world… when you start to make a fresh batch of five can soup and the can opener breaks. Mother of all things righteous, why have you left me defenseless against fate? 346 more words

Adventures

Rugged individualism is as American as it gets. John Wayne was probably viewed as the epitome of this concept—that each person should be responsible for their own life, that people do not need and should not accept help from any government. 2,697 more words

General Politics

Camping Rucks (Rocks and Sucks)

I love camping.  Lots of people love camping.  There are so many ways to camp and a whole range of possibilities, from bare-bones backpacking with just the smallest, compact but pricey necessities all the way to the largest, most expensive campers and trailers.   1,438 more words

Dogs

From "Grandfather's Old Ram"

You see, Sile Hawkins was–no, it warn’t Sile Hawkins, after all–it was a galoot by the name of Filkins–I disremember his first name; but he was a stump–come into pra’r meeting drunk, one night, hooraying for Nixon, becuz he thought it was a primary; and old deacon Ferguson up and scooted him through the window and he lit on old Miss Jefferson’s head, poor old filly. 583 more words

Poetry