Shamping

Camping plus shopping equals shamping. Easy enough to figure out, right? This was a word my closest friends made up; it was used to describe me. I'm a shamper. Sweet! And I'm proud of it.

I didn't grow up camping. My parents' idea of camping was staying in an inexpensive hotel. So, what is the first thing one wants to try once they move out of their parents' home? Why--the very thing they have never ever been able to do before. I had no clue what I was getting myself into that first time around. We needed everything, according to my husband, the expert camper. He'd had experience! He grew up camping. He said that we would need a tent, a stove, an ice chest, and sleeping bags — can't forget those. And of course, we needed lots of other stuff too.

I had fun running around the camping department of whatever outdoors store we were in. I can't remember the name of that place, but it had everything--things I didn't even know I needed. But I wanted it all. Sometimes I just wanted it because it was so cute and little. Camping stuff is tiny. It's so cute. Anyway, we bought the necessities and off we went--2 nights of sleeping in a tent on the ground, cooking over a tiny little stove, freezing my behind off, swatting away bugs, and the worst part--gross public restrooms and shower stalls. Camping — in one 2-day weekend — became a "this isn't going to ever happen again" experience for me. At least not the way that the first weekend went. No. Not that way, not ever again.

I was bound and determined to make camping my own. Yes, I would own it. I went back to the camping store and, with my list of must-have amenities, went shopping. Here are a few things that I purchased that day. First off--air mattresses, then a heater for our tent, and how about a blow dryer that plugs into a car cigarette lighter, and of course a butane curling iron. Paper plates followed (who wants to wash all those crusty dishes?), along with a solar shower, for those campsites that did not provide nice showers. And how can I forget the best thing ever? A drip coffee maker that used a cone that flowed right into a cute little coffee pot. Now everything was going to be better, right?

Wrong. I now wanted a recreational vehicle. I'd seen one on the freeway--and soon it was going to be mine. It was just a matter of time! And yes, just a few short years later, I snagged one. It was really cute and tiny. Did I mention tiny? We were by then a family of 5, and my new little travel trailer was only 19 feet long. The word sardine pops into my head. We only kept it for a couple of years. I actually sold it for quite a profit — I had done some interior decorating on that little thing — made it cute as a button! It was a must-have for all the camping moms.

Enter camping vehicle number 2--an older version of number 1, but 24 feet long. Believe me, that extra 5 feet made all the difference in the world. 5 feet of heaven. It had an apartment-sized refrigerator, a small oven, a shower, and a queen-size bed. Mama was happy! There was now room for all 5 of us. Kind of, sort of. Well, at least when it was raining outside. Otherwise, in good weather, the kids slept in their very own tents! Yay. They were getting to be such big kids by now; they were so responsible, growing up, so trustworthy — and mama wanted more space.

We camped from Canada to Mexico, from along the Pacific Ocean up to the Sierra Nevada mountains. We went a lot. We took our family vacations in that little trailer and made many family memories. With 3 children in private school and me being a stay-at-home mom, well, it was what we could afford for our little family.

So where does the shamping word come in?   I blame it on Lake Tahoe. How can one go camping at Lake Tahoe and not drive into the quaint little towns along the shore and not stop at the cute boutiques? For some reason, my friend's husbands thought that camping meant — you go to the campsite, set up camp, build a fire, and plant yourself for the duration.  Well, I put a stop to that. There were shops just up the road, with coffee, real coffee, and pastries! Thus, I became the shamping queen. It had already been decided that I was the shopping queen years before.  And now, since I had acquired all the camping paraphernalia known to man--you add them together and voila! You get me.

I haven't shamped now in about 10 years. I can't say as I really miss it. We sold our RV when we moved to the Midwest, and our kids grew up and moved out. And times have changed--we now have extra money. OK, so hotels it is--nice hotels at that. However, there are those days when I look back at my old photos from our wonderfully goofy vacations, and I do miss something — yes, I miss the memories. I miss my kids being little and having to wash them up at night before tucking them into their sleeping bags. I miss hiking through the woods and yelling out, "Be careful, there's poison ivy around here."  I miss ordering pizza from my cell phone and having it delivered to my campsite just to get a laugh. I miss sitting around the campfire with my friends and singing while holding my kids on my lap. I miss those days.

Yes, I guess I do miss shamping after all. What sweet memories I've been blessed with.