For our household of (currently) four to spend a weekend in the woods, we need to consider all the things to bring for a successful camping trip. We’ve rented a cabin, and a modern cabin at that, one with a bathroom and a whole kitchen but little else. Entertainment and time-wasting is all up to us.
So probably, to start, how will we feed ourselves? The inclusion of a refrigerator excludes us from relying on shelf-stable and ready-to-eat factory food, not that it was much of an option in my mind as fruits and vegetables and bread are largely fine without being kept chilled. But we have the option for fresh meat, eggs, and milk, which definitely would languish if carted along in a cooler, no matter how much ice we packed. I think s’mores are obligatory, for one. Then probably hot dogs cooked over open fire, too, laid in buns with ketchup or mustard. Which means firewood, which luckily we have a surplus of, or can be gathered from the landscape as a chore for bored kids. If cooking with fire, there will be hot coals for hours after, and potatoes wrapped in foil and slow roasted take on a magical quality once buttered and cheesed. I remember my father would wrap an onion up, set it among the embers, and hours later eat it from its foil cocoon with mustard, mayo, and a spoon.
For simplicity, the daily regimen will follow pancakes for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and meat cooked over the fire for dinner. Along with that, making jugs of sweet lemon tea, so I will pack a medium-sized pot for boiling water and stovetop cooking. For firetop cooking, the cast iron is coming along: the big skillet and the griddle. The roll of foil needs packing, too, not just for potatoes but also to loosely cover the skillet so we can make fireside popcorn.
So far: Graham crackers, chocolate bars, big marshmallows, hot dogs, buns, sauces, spreads like peanut butter, jams and jellies, butter, cheese, milk and other manner of dairy, tallow for cooking, popcorn kernels, foil, two cast irons and a pot, firewood, long skewers to cook over the fire, tea bags, potatoes, lemons, and other fruits and vegetables in their whole form.
The weather will be cool, if not cold, all weekend, but promises to be dry. Fresh bread can be baked daily if I take my yeast, flours, extra butter, and eggs; bringing sugar means treats can be made, too. The use of the oven will make a nice and warm kitchen.
The cabin has beds with generic, vinyl-covered mattresses but the linens are up to us. That cool weather means warm comforters and blankets. Towels, too, since there’s a small shower stall in the bathroom (and for the brave, a bath house within the campgrounds). All those kinds of little personal effects are for us to fill in. The cabin is a blank slate, so in addition to cookware, we need dish towels, dish soap, utensils, bowls, cups, and plates. In the interest of reducing germs upon our arrival, I’ll bring a bottle of isopropyl alcohol.
Then what about family entertainment? Books, I think, are the most reliable, but nothing from the library, to escape the risk of replacement fines. Then probably games, so we can take the different card games we have, and maybe a board game or two, but keeping it simple, not bringing too much clutter. The whole point of this weekend is to unwind, relax, and spend time in the forest, with nature. Humans are not meant to be so disconnected from the earth— this is meant to be a remedy from the ailments of such estranged, modern living.
I’ll take my yarns and try to finish the star blanket. Taking my laptop defeats the point of an unplugged weekend, so writing goes by hand this weekend. And I want to take a lot of pictures, so both my instant film-developing camera and my digital camera, with its flurry of batteries and the lithium battery charger, will join us.
So the packing list for our trip: the basic items mentioned above, and more importantly, a thirst for wilderness and a yearning to return to nature.
Raccoon Commune Co. 