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Churchill: Biting flies, and other joys of camping

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20.07.2019

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THE WOODS — On any given summer weekend, there is a good chance my family has left civilization. We are probably camping.

Clarification: By "camping" I don't mean that we have driven a house-on-wheels up the highway and into the woods. No. At the public campgrounds we frequent, we're a few sites over from the RVs and the pop-ups.

Do you see us? We're the ones with the sadly sagging tent, the wet towels hanging from trees and the flashlights that never have functioning batteries. And I'm the guy in the background, cursing and waving away smoke as I try to get this flipping fire started. In about three hours, if this soggy kindling ever catches, "dinner" will be ready.

Ah, camping. If you've tried it, you know the pleasures. A rooftop of glittering stars. A quiet sunrise over a calm lake. Jabbing marshmallows with a stick and roasting them over ... OUCH! What is that?!

BITING FLIES?!

See, that's why camping is terrific. It puts us (and our sensitive skin) right out there in nature, exposed as a newborn chimp. It takes all the wonderful advances of humankind, such as houses and BarcaLoungers, and throws them out the proverbial tent flap.

Our caveman forebears........

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