Thelma (016)

This year of camping will be a blow to my ego. Since the age of 6, I have been rustic camping at least once every summer. This means no running water, no electricity, no toilets, bring a shovel, pitch a tent. It is a tradition that started as a large group of family members, extended families and friends, would enjoy for a week on the river. This is true camping as it was meant to be, according to everything I know and hold dear about the activity. 

The past few years, I have been itching to buy a camper. But I stuck it out with tents because campers cost a lot of money, and I can still camp out of my tiny car if I didn't submit myself to the pressure of recreational glamping. Yes, glamping. I still consider all camper trailers to be the gateway into glamping. Glamorous camping, for those unfamiliar. Also, there are not many things in life that can compete with the sound of rain hitting nylon. Thunder and owls go unmuffled by the thin sheet of material that deceptively protects you from the elements. 

This year, we have a camper. It is not ours, but it's ours. Mike's parents had been thinking about purchasing a camper trailer for several years to take to the family reunion every year. The family reunion is three days and two nights of about 40 people sleeping in the same campground or family yard, and up to 100 people for the main event on Saturday. They wanted a camper to use for one weekend every year. Mike and I wanted a camper to use at least half a dozen times per year.

So we would look occasionally, dreaming about the day we didn't have to haul everything and spend three hours setting up camp. Two hours after it was posted, I sent Mike's mom her photo and Facebook advertisement. With all of the research I had done over the years of window shopping, I was trusted with the inspection. We met her; she was perfect. Thelma was less than she wanted to spend, made in the same year she was born, and slathered in gorgeous paint that she fell in love with—Thelma was coming home with us, Mike's mom instructed. We are now responsible for everything except the financials; it’s like a dream come true. 

Today, we used Murphy's oil soap on all of the wood surfaces inside and left her to air out. Tomorrow, the inside of the cabinets and drawers will be bleached. Later this week, we will go through all of the essentials that were left by the previous owners to let Thelma reclaim them or pass them to other campers. Her maiden voyage with us is in April and she will be ready and sparkling.