Unreachable

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Dan goes camping with his best friend every summer, and usually once in the fall as well. For nearly 40 years, these two guys have gone to the exact same lake, to the exact same campground, and (if they’re lucky) to one of two of the exact same campsites. They play the exact same music, eat the exact same meals, and (presumably) make the exact same jokes and/or arguments to each other that they have for the past 4 decades. Honestly, it’s appropriate that the buddies appear to travel back in time when they go on these trips, because they also can’t get a cell signal when they are up there. For three or four days (depending on whether it rains), they are unreachable.

Being unable to reach Dan for several days used to bother me greatly. For one thing, we used to have the Annual Pre-Camping Argument (APCA) brought on by the stress of preparations. He would leave with us still on bad terms, and I would spend 72 hours feeling anxious about something happening to one of us while we were in a fight. In fact, one year the kids and I got in a nasty car accident, and he didn’t find out about it until he was back in range the next day.

After we had a child, and then two, we still managed to have the APCA and then I would be left to single-mom for a weekend. To add insult to injury, Dan was by far the favored parent when the kids were little, so the ramp-up and immediate aftermath of his departure was cause for great despair and suffering.

In the hours leading up to the trip, Billy would be hot on Dan’s heels, talking a mile a minute, trying desperately to tell him everything that he wouldn’t be able to say to him over the next 3 days. (You can imagine that the scene was quite similar when Dan arrived back home, since Billy had 3 days of information stored and ready to share!) Our son would be over the moon excited when Dan’s friend Rob showed up in the motor home at 5:30am, wanting to get in and have a tour. But inevitably Dan would climb into the passenger seat, wave goodbye, and Billy would burst into hysterical tears — inconsolable for hours.

Emily handled the immediate exodus better than her brother. It would take until that evening, or even the next day, for her to become angry with me about something and shout at the top of her lungs, “I WANT DADDY! I WANT DADDY NOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!” You can imagine just how much money I would have paid to have been able to get Dan on the phone at that point, just for the support.

Of course, I’d be lying if I said 100% of those times were terrible. The kids and I created some wonderful traditions and memories over these weekends. We liked to get Pizza Hut (which Dan hates) and ice cream drumsticks, and rent a movie. This is how we saw “How to Train Your Dragon” for the first time — an utter delight. We would travel for playdates with seldom-seen friends, or wear our pajamas all day. When the kids forgot that they missed Dan soooooooo much, we had a lot of fun together. After bedtime, I was able to get caught up on all the television and/or movies that didn’t interest Dan.

These days, I look forward to Dan’s camping weekends. I am able to feel happy for him that he can get away with his old friend. He works so hard, and I’m relieved that he has a chunk of time when work can’t get ahold of him. We seem to have moved past the era of the APCA, so I’m free to miss him without complication and look forward to the phone call that means he’s back in range and on his way home.

The kids have their own social lives now, but one or the other usually makes time for me and some Pizza Hut, and some kind of streaming show or movie. I refuse plans for the most part and enjoy my rare solitude — besides the dog and cat — and occasional visits from my offspring.

In a couple of weeks it will be MEA weekend — the Minnesota Educators Academy, a chance for teachers to attend workshops and take classes to earn continuing education credits. Luckily, my district offers us many valuable training opportunities to be able to earn hours and credits, and I often take classes in the summers. I choose to spend the glorious fall break in the same area of the state as Dan and Rob go on their annual trips. For the past several years now, we pack the family (including the dog) into Dan’s truck, and head off the grid for a long weekend of grouse hunting in the woods, sleeping in a bare-bones cabin with basic electricity but no running water. This year, both kids are bringing friends, which should add to the fun — plus, we’ll hear much less whining about the lack of cell signal.

Here’s wishing you a disconnected oasis of your own.

Thanks for reading.

Love, Susie