I’ve realized that camping is a great source of inspiration for writing. It’s no wonder that writers often hide away in remote cabins to focus on their work (if the movies are telling the truth because I’ve never known an author). Surrounded by the serene beauty of nature, I find myself compelled to unleash my creativity onto the blank page of a vintage typewriter. The cool, crisp air invigorates my senses, while the peaceful ambiance envelops me in a sense of calm. As I type away, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, adding to the already delightful sensory experience. The warmth of the crackling campfire provides a cozy backdrop to my tranquil writing session, creating the perfect environment for inspiration to flow freely. That would be ideal, but this is my real camping story (ideal in a different kind of way).
As the sun rose above Cave City, Kentucky, I found myself sitting on the screened porch of our cozy cabin, savoring a hot cup of coffee. I tried to type my thoughts with my phone on one hand with holding my coffee in the other, promising to transfer it to my laptop later. The sound of children’s laughter filled the air, bringing a smile to my face. Despite the early hour, the temperature was already rising, causing beads of sweat to form on my skin. Nonetheless, the peaceful surroundings made it easy to forget the heat and simply enjoy the moment. Once I felt the sweat start sliding down my back, I figured it was time to head inside.
I rinsed off in the shower and then threw on some clothes that were past their prime. I could’ve sworn I packed more camping clothes. A quick full-body spritz of my spray-on deodorant will hopefully mask the musky smell until we came back to the cabin for lunch. I hopped in our golf cart rental with Lily and Lucy jumping in right behind me, immediately shouting “GO!” in unison. I made an impressive U-turn in the old cart and floored it onto the empty road. We blasted off at 5 miles per hour. Maybe it was the wind in our hair or maybe it was the sound of the loud engine struggling to get up the hill, but it felt like we were going at least 10 miles per hour. It’s hard not to feel complete peace zipping around the campground in a golf cart.
As we turned the corner and ascended the hill, we approached our friends’ cabins, ready to embark on our yearly camping tradition with the *Moore family. My friendship with Molly began when our first babies were just six months old. We had met in one of those mom exercise groups, where we would enthusiastically sing nursery rhymes at the top of our lungs while attempting lunges, hoping our little ones wouldn’t be the loudest disruptors of the day.
Though it was billed as a “run club” class, running was far from our minds. Instead, we leisurely strolled at the back of the pack, tossing cheerios to our children, relishing the fresh air, and cherishing the social connections we made.
Our annual camping tradition led us to a Jellystone in Indiana for the first two years, but this time, we craved something different. Kentucky beckoned, with its allure of Mammoth Cave National Park, home to the world’s longest-known cave system, boasting over 400 miles of explored passages. Eager to explore this underground wonder, we decided to camp near the park.
The summer sun blazed relentlessly, but the promise of a cool escape into the cave’s eternal 54-degree embrace kept our spirits high. I couldn’t wait to don my hoodie, relishing the thought of wandering in the soothing cave air.
Finally, the day arrived for our historic cave tour. As we descended the steps into the cave’s mouth, our path illuminated by scattered lights, anticipation coursed through us. At one point, our knowledgeable guide urged us to experience the darkness that early explorers once faced. He turned off the lights, and only a flickering lantern remained. In that moment, I couldn’t help but silently thank the inventors of electricity, realizing how much we owe to modern advancements.
Soon, the trail led us to a narrow passage, winding its way through the cave’s depths. The path was so constricted that we had to maneuver sideways at some points, humorously named “Fat Man’s Misery.” Despite the challenge, we persevered, each of us successfully emerging on the other side with a mix of relief and laughter.
The tour took us deeper into the captivating world beneath the surface. We climbed about 500 steps, each one bringing us closer to the heart of the cave’s ancient beauty. Along the way, we marveled at the intricate formations and age-old stalactites that stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time.
As we walked the 2-mile-long path, winding and weaving through the underground labyrinth, we were in awe of the breathtaking sights surrounding us. The cave’s natural wonders left us humbled and inspired.
Time seemed to blur as we ventured further, reaching depths of 309 feet underground. Two hours of exploration felt like an immersive journey through history and geology.
Exhilarated by our adventure and grateful for the unique experience, we emerged from the cave, cherishing the memories we had created deep within the Earth’s embrace.
(Note: I’m not using their real names out of respect for privacy.)
