Two schools of thought fuel the desire to go camping. There is the 'going back to basics' idea that is deeply flawed since setting up a tent requires a postgraduate university degree. Gone are the days of a pole, some pegs and a piece of cloth you cut out from your spare room curtain. Now there are awnings, waterproof shells that cannot touch the inner shell and voyeur peek holes. Then there is the 'going outdoors' notion that is silly, since setting up the aforementioned tent provides a makeshift 'indoors' that contradicts the whole point of the exercise. You essentially leave the indoors to become one with the outdoors by making a fake indoors to which you still think you are outdoors. Confused? Good.
The really adventurous souls are the ones that decide to camp it out in the cold of winter. It is essentially the substitution of warm blankets, lamb roast, and Friday night football on the TV for stiff, hard nipples, perpetually moist buttocks, and influenza. It is a substitution that is, despite sane logic, quite appealing.
There will always be the healthy chunk of the population that make the pilgrimage to camp insane-o at some point in the winter. The ones with the marbles still present will drive their car and pitch tent just outside, using General Motors as emergency warmth and shelter. The ones with an undiscovered brain aneurysm will hardcore it up and go overnight hiking, pitching their tent in 3 degrees darkness after refusing to stop while the sun is still up. Of course, these are the people that Bear Grylls wholeheartedly applauds.
What both groups have in common, besides being likely fans of this show, is that unexplainable urge to forego all things comfortable, and make life as freaking miserable for themselves as possible for a few days. Of course, you could just sit through a couple of Grey's Anatomy DVDs and that would achieve the same result.
Wilsons Prom was awesome!
