Camping With My Dad.
It had been years since I last went camping. When my dad and I arrived at the Lake Casitas Campground in Ojai, section F, just the other day, I could not help but feel an acute sense of excitement and wonder. This camp site was my childhood; from the tree where my kite got stuck when I was a teenager, to the plastic playground where my sister Clare and I took turns riding the brightly colored slides. The paved cul-de-sac at the end of the campsite was even still there. Like it was yesterday, I could vividly remember careering down the street on my bike, only to slow down in order to successfully loop around and then glide back to our tent trailer.
My favorite part of camping always involves ensconcing myself in my sleeping bag at night, and then waking up at the crack of dawn, to hear the birds chirping right outside my open window. There is no traffic; there are no sirens; and there are no construction noises. At Casitas, it is just me and nature—and I greatly prefer things that way.
Back when I was still a child, the Lake Casitas Water Adventure was first installed. For those who do not know, this attraction is basically a mini water park, complete with contorting slides, plastic inner tubes, and a relaxing and seductive lazy river. This time, as I swam leisurely in the river, I was joined by my close friend Anthony, who is fortunate enough to live a mere few miles away from Lake Casitas. Everything about that day was special—except, of course, for the fact that my skin eventually became as red as a lobster due to my tragically defective sunscreen.
I had looked forward to that vacation for weeks prior; largely because I knew it would be a valuable time for me to bond with my dad. The occasion ended up being so special that Matthew even broke his strict diet to enjoy a thin crust Ojai Pizza pie with me on the first day of our trip. It was delicious. There is something about being at Lake Casitas that is just so relaxing and fulfilling. We enjoyed our outing so much that we decided to make plans to eventually go camping again—this next time, possibly at the base of the Sierra Nevadas, or even in the oceanside town of Malibu.
My key takeaway from that vacation was this: oftentimes, in our busy and frenetic lives, we tend to forget to simply stop and live in the present moment. We focus on work, but not relaxation. We focus on the destination, but not the journey. This, in my opinion, is a mistake; one that can easily be remedied by simply agreeing to spend time in nature, whether at a camp ground, on a beach, or even in one’s own backyard. In my thirty-one years of life, I have found that simply sitting outside, while leisurely reading a favorite book, is one of the most valuable experiences that one can ever have.
