Familiar as my own shadow but bright like the sun: Memories from my youth 🔥

Darkness crowded the two boys; The inky black night held at bay only by the small fire between them. It crackled, snapped, hissed and popped as it chewed through the wood they fed it occasionally. Sparks rose on heated air and smoke up and into the blackness above each time they poked and prodded the fire as boys tend to do. They sat staring into the flames whilst discussing the matters of the day; Important things like treehouses, bike riding, finding more firewood...And snacks. Cocooned by the darkness, youthful faces lit by the flames and surrounded by nighttime sounds the boys felt a sense of pride, achievement and satisfaction...They were camping for the first time.

Above is a memory from about 40 years ago as a kid. I was around 8 years old and my older brother was about 10. We weren't raised to be campers and had never done it before, certainly not by that stage of life, however it fascinated me. My father never took us fishing or hunting, camping or really anything outdoorsy at all other than sports on Saturday morning. I suppose it was not his interest and as the families' sole income earner he was either working at his job or at home painting and doing chores around the house. He was an artist.

But somehow I became attracted to the outdoors, to learning skills that at the time seemed foreign to me, mysterious.

We were raised in a small country town on a reasonably large parcel of land and we'd ride our bikes, play at being soldiers, cowboys or Roman Legionaries in equal measure, among other things. I'm not sure at what point we reached the decision but at some stage we decided that we needed to go camping; To learn how to do it. I say learn although it was really just teaching ourselves and it may have been more about making fires I guess.

We spent time selecting a suitable spot on the property deciding that near a small stand of pine trees would be the best spot. We would have protection from the wind and ample dry pine needles to burn. (Not a single thought was put into the fact that pine trees are highly flammable. I was 8 years old so why would I worry about that small fact?). We spent days building up our stock of wood, quite indiscriminately I might add. If it was wooden it got thrown on the secret stash we were hiding behind one of the big sheds. Maybe wooden things that shouldn't have been on the pile found their way onto it, but I'll say nothing about it here for fear of incriminating myself.

In secret we gathered "equipment", food and clothing we felt would be suitable and also started building the camp site. We would need it to be defensible (from what I cannot say 40 years later) and we made some attempt to scrape away years worth of dry pine needles to create a sort of safe location for our fire and overall campsite. It was exciting; The secret nature of it and the fact we were making it all up as we went.

They were simple times and memories which I look back on fondly now; The adventures we would have and the creative things we would come up with to entertain ourselves I mean. We would build treehouses in those tall pines and devise cat-walks between them; Narrow and very unsafe planks of wood which would allow us to travel from treehouse to treehouse. A nasty falling incident occurred however and so we decided a better way of moving about would be ropes. You know, swinging like Tarzan! That was also a monumental failure, but we tried and tried. How we didn't kill ourselves is miraculous!

I recall one occasion when we had some of the kids from neighbouring properties over playing in the school holidays and we decided that treehouse to treehouse communications were required. We spent days devising and building a pulley-system to move baskets between the treehouses in which we could place items and messages. It was a legitimate project that held our attention for a couple of weeks. It was all going very well until my brother sustained a severe knife cut to his hand; A scar he carries to this day. But we just moved on to the next project, new adventure...Or mischief like kids do.

We survived though, somehow, and managed to grow up into the adults we are now. We were not a well-off family and were certainly not privileged to have loads of things, toys and stuff I mean. Most of what we had was second hand although we were fortunate enough to get brand new bikes one year for Christmas and we treated those bikes like the most precious of things.

Our fun was mostly self-made though and we had to rely on our imagination a lot. Thinking back now I can recall many moments of my life that, years later, (now) would help to define me.

Experiences from my past have helped to shape who I am now and I am grateful of my upbringing, the freedom of it. I had the ability to explore, to create and to learn through experiences good and bad. I have had to confront myself, to look closely and evaluate, to deal with extreme prejudice and hatred and have had the benefit of a safe haven to retreat to when I needed; Home.

I'm not a parent, it bothers me too. I mean I think I would have been a good one but I'll never know. What I do know is that my parents did the best they could with what they had. Could they have done better? We'll never know but there's not much I'd change about my upbringing; Some things yes for sure, but not many. I wish I had a "little me" to impart some of my wisdom to but if wishes were horses beggars would ride as they say.

I think my older brother and I caused my parents some stress. We were well behaved, polite and courteous lads, but we got ourselves into trouble too. We had a good environment to grow up in and a lot of opportunity to explore ourselves as people and I am very grateful for that. Our lack of financial resources forced us to get creative and to develop strong imaginations and for that I thank my parents.

(Above is one of the fires I created a while back.)

Just for the record, I grew up to be a great camper and still love the outdoors. I hunt and shoot, fish (badly), can trap, navigate in the wilderness, handle many first-aid scenarios and know a lot about survival in the wilderness so that first camping experience certainly left its mark on me. I've trekked, kayaked, hiked, hunted and camped in some amazing locations and will do so again. I do it with a lot more finesse and skill than when I was 8 years old although I remember those days as formative moments that left me with an enduring passion to fully-engage with my life and to live it creatively and with imagination.

I yearn for those simple days now yet will never attain them again; They linger in my mind as familiar as my own shadow but bright like the sun. Although it's through that same yearning that I feel compelled to live a life of my own design and creation and not a life by default.

Note:

Here's a few other posts about camping and associated things if you're interested.

My 4x4 showcased
Sleeping at camp...Like a boss
Camp like a boss
Survival's seven enemies
Outback survival (water)
4x4 roll starts
Flinders Ranges trip