• 08 Nov, 2025 *

My dad really wanted me to be an outdoor kid. He took me camping, fishing, got me in Cub Scouts. However, I found fishing boring, as I’d rather play in the lake, or eat chips on the beach. I went camping, and these were okay. I had fun mostly because I was with my dad. But I never initiated it. I quit cub scouts, and I don’t even remember why. Either way, it caused a rift between my father and me, with whom I had a complicated relationship. If only he could see me now, eagerly camping when I can, initiating outdoor activities. I don’t think he would like hiking, though, and I know I don’t like fishing as an adult.

It was my first summer in education, and I had received a bonus of $500 dollars as we had gotten a distinction in my STAAR subject. By this point, my father had been dead about 5 years, and I decided I wanted to try to reconnect with him by finding something out in nature. I took that 500 dollars and went to Amazon to buy myself as much equipment as I could. I found a tent for 30 bucks, a lantern flashlight for about twenty, a beautiful Estwing hatchet (which ended up being the single most expensive item), and after much deliberation, I sprung for a cot. I got a walking stick from Brazos Walking Sticks. As an afterthought (literally stopping at Wal*Mart before arriving at the camp) I bought a stake mallet.

I had planned to drive out to the Great Smoky Mountains for a few days, but chickened out and canceled my reservation. I instead scheduled for a single-night camp at Lake Whitney State Park. I intended to camp and hike.

Check out the link above. Lake Whitney is more or less completely a lake park. In total, the hiking trails are around two miles all combined. I did bring a cooler and a cheap fishing rod, however, intending to do some fishing. So, poor research and planning. Unfortunate, but I could fish.

I set up my tent. This was a cheap tent off Amazon, so the construction wasn’t the best and the instructions weren’t clear. Most of the tent stakes had bent or broken. But, the tent was standing, and I could close it. Sure, my cot barely fit, I could close the door by just stretching the tent fabric just right. Camp now firmly put together, I went down to the lake to fish.

While using my cheap cooler as a chair, I managed to erode the lid by sitting on it for a few hours while fishing. No bites of course, not that I eat fish. I made my way back up to camp with my cooler, hunger beginning to gnaw at my stomach. I had bought flint and steel, despite never having used it. I had brought cans of beans, as well as a cheap mess kit. I don’t even remember what I brought to supplement the beans.

I went to the fire pit and gathered firewood. I remembered that much from camping with my father. Soon, I had stacked a bunch of wood into a pile. My father had always done this last step with lighter fluid and a lighter. I had neither lighter fluid, nor a lighter. I gathered a bunch of the dry grasses nearby to use as tinder. I scraped the flint shavings onto the grass and struck the steel. Sparks, but nothing.

I added more. Sparks, then nothing. My stomach was growing ravenous now, and then I remembered there were some napkins in my car.

I could cheat on my first trip, right?

That did the trick, and soon I had a fire going - enough to cook my beans and have a plain dinner by the fire. I stayed out of my tent until dark (around 9), then retreated into my tent for rest.

Then, like a bad creepypasta, 3 AM came and, with it, portents of my doom. I awoke to the sound of violently strong wind. My tent was partly on its side, my weight on the cot the only deterrent from that tent making like Dorothy.

An assault from the air - huge, aggressive drops of water fell from the sky as if the gods themselves opposed my camping endeavors.

Wait, why was I wet?

I grabbed my phone, slid my feet into my boots, and grabbed my wallet and keys. There was no way I could stay in this tent over night. I waited for a little bit, hoping it would let up. After it showed no signs of abating, I opened up my weather app to the doppler radar.

I was in deep purple. And that purple stretched around me for such a far distance. My heart sunk - this was miserable. The rain sounded less vitriolic than it had a few moments ago. This was probably my best chance to abandon tent and flee to the safety of my car.

I threw open the door to my tent and saw it collapse in a useless heap over the top of my cot. It was at that moment the skies opened up a torrent of precipitation on me that had me drenched in half a breath. The sky lit up with lightning, giving me a clear picture. I fumbled to the car while enduring the assault and practically launched myself into the driver’s seat. I had a towel in the hatchback area of my car, so I wrapped myself up and began to dry off as best I could. There, I had a terrifying realization.

I had forgotten my glasses in the tent. There would be no way I could reclaim them now as fishing them out of a $30 pile of fabric while Poseidon personally ruined my night. I decided I would just hope they didn’t fly away in the night. I dozed in and out of sleep, listening to a podcast on my iPod to keep me from spiraling with anxiety.

I was greeted by the bright morning sun a few long hours later. My tent was where I had left it - between the cot and a few of the tent stakes, it had not flown away. I quickly retrieved my glasses and took stock of the situation. My cooler was broken completely now. My tent was in shambles. The cot was probably salvageable (it was, I ended up storing it in my classroom one year when I had last period conference for the occasional snooze). The sleeping bag was sodden, full of ants, and had a weird smell on it. I threw away some things, but I didn’t lose everything.

The walking stick, my percolator, that flint and steel, my loyal hatchet, and that trusty stake mallet are still part of my kit today. I mostly carry the flint and steel as a backup, but I try to build at least one fire a trip with it. Bizarrely, that flashlight is still around too, and it’s my favorite of my flashlights. That mess kit lasted a few more camps, but I eventually upgraded it once I was sure camping was something I enjoyed.

I should have stopped there. After such a catastrophic failure, why would I want to do this again?

I realized it’s because I still had fun. Even as poorly planned, lazily researched, and unlucky as it was, the parts until the inclement weather were decent. Hanging out on the lake was nice, and I was extremely proud when I got those flint shavings to ignite the fire. My beans may have been of the bland, canned variety, but they tasted like victory.

This was me, I guess. I’m an outdoors guy now? Sorry I only discovered that after you died, dad.

Thank you for reading, if you made it this far.

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#adventure #nature