I was barely a teen, with dreams held high,
Set out for camping, a fevered cry.
My boots were big, my bag a mess—
But it was an adventure, nonetheless.
We hiked through heat; our maps gave up,
Ran off the route, thinking it was a setup.
Even then, I was proud of my blistered feet,
My tanned skin smelling like rotten meat.
We built a fire with flint and stone,
All gathered by the flames—yet alone.
The tent fell down more than twice;
We cooked chicken with curry and rice.
Each day we learned to track, to tie a knot,
And practiced the lessons we were taught.
We crafted memories that learned to stay—
Even in the wildernes, life finds its way.