PHOTO + WORDS: FADI SALIB
Day after day we go through the same routine… full of the same places, the same faces, and the all too familiar sights and sounds of cars—just to spend our last waking hours each night scrolling through our phones. Then it repeats. Camping breaks that cycle.
Like anything worthwhile, camping takes work. Ahead of the departure comes planning and packing—when you’re on a four-hour canoe trip away from civilization, there’s no making trips to the store to buy more bug spray. Then there’s the journey itself, which is physically exhausting and demands a level of coordination and teamwork, whether it be during the paddling or the portage. Settling into camp, everybody assumes their positions; the cook, the fire stoker, the dishwasher, and if you’re an early riser like me you’ll be assumed to be the coffee maker as well.
But the reward… a body of water, a plot of land to pitch a tent and stoke a fire, and an expansive piece of sky—all for you and your people—absent of any human trace. Here it is, the original television. Without phones or the burdens of our daily routines, we can truly be present. Present with ourselves and with others. The noise is stripped and we’re left with fundamentals; eating, sleeping, staying warm… raw humanity. Camping shows us what honest bonding and comfort amongst one another looks like.
The return home is cathartic. The A&W burger on the drive back tastes like Wagyu steak stuffed between freshly-baked brioche. Standing beneath the shower that wasn’t quite strong enough now feels like a trip to the spa. The bed I sleep on suddenly feels 20 inches thicker. I return home with a refreshed perspective and love for the simple things I typically take for granted.
So why do I camp? I camp to reconnect—with nature, with my friends and with myself.