Trying To Feel Normal – Camping and Hiking

If there’s one place I’ve felt most like myself this year, it hasn’t been the gym or my office or even my own house. It’s been at the campground with the family, under the trees, and beside a campfire.

Since 2020, camping has been a constant for me and the boys. It started during COVID, when everything felt uncertain and disconnected. Being out there, just the three of us, gave us something steady. After the separation, it became even more important. It was our reset button… it was our thing every weekend.

Then, when Vic came into our lives in 2022, she jumped right in. What started as a survival strategy became a full-blown family tradition. This summer, despite everything going on with my health, we’ve camped nearly every weekend since May Long. And the week before I left for surgery, we were out almost every single day. It was tough for Vic being 22 weeks pregnant, but she stayed out with us once a weekend like a champ. The boys loved it.

It hasn’t just been about sitting around the fire. It’s been bike rides down gravel roads, evening walks through the woods, impromptu hikes up random ridges, and afternoons on the beach. These are the little things that used to come so easily, things I never thought twice about. But this year, they felt different.

The Year I Had to Slow Down

Everything this summer has taken more out of me than I thought it should. Going for a walk with the boys meant needing to stop and rest. Bike rides that used to be fast and fun became slow and careful. Even standing at the shoreline while they splashed in the water left me tired. I couldn’t go swimming with them. I couldn’t put them on my shoulders and launch them into the water. I couldn’t chase them through the sand. I couldn’t play catch or soccer or jump in the lake. Things I never thought twice about became impossible. Things I guess that I took for granted, I learned aren’t a given. And honestly, that’s been one of the hardest parts of all this; not being able to be the dad I always have been… the dad I want to be.

Because camping is relaxing at times, but it’s also always been about movement. It’s where we play and explore and just be active together without rules or structure. So to be out there, in our place, and not be able to do those things… that hit hard.

But the boys never made me feel like I was letting them down. They were patient. Supportive. Jake especially would walk beside me when I needed to rest, would check in, would wait without complaining. Zach, full of energy, still found ways to include me; whether it was helping him build a fort or asking if we could cook something over the fire together. He made things better by always trying to include me.

Teaching Moments That Mattered

One of the unexpected blessings this summer was seeing how much the boys stepped up. With my energy being limited and Vic carrying more than just emotional weight, we needed the boys to pitch in, and they did, without hesitation.

Zach especially blew me away. He’d beg to come help me set up camp early and was front and centre helping tear everything down. He wanted to be involved, wanted to contribute, and really took ownership over making camp feel like home. Jake was right there too, following along, learning by doing.

It’s been awesome watching them grow into these responsibilities. We didn’t just camp, we used this summer to teach. They learned knife safety. Pellet gun and slingshot safety. How to safely start a fire. How to BBQ. How to be part of a team when it comes to setting up, packing up, and making sure everyone is taken care of.

These weren’t just fun weekends, they were moments that helped shape my boys into capable, confident young men. It’s the kind of learning you can’t get in a classroom or from a screen. It’s life skills, patience, responsibility, and presence, all wrapped into the rhythm of a campsite.

What I’m Taking With Me

This summer didn’t look like it normally does, but it still gave me everything I needed.

The pace was slower. The moments were heavier. But the time we had out there together meant more because of it. I wasn’t always able to move the way I wanted to. I couldn’t do all the things I used to. But I was still there. Still present. Still part of it. And I hope the boys remember that.

Next year, I’m hoping I’ll be able to run again. To swim. To play soccer at the beach and throw the boys in the lake like I used to. AND, I’m hoping to be teaching my baby girl how to swim. But even if I’m not fully there yet when the time comes, I know this: I’ll keep showing up.

Because this isn’t just about our camper, smores, beach days, and bike rides. Camping has become our reset, our safe space, our tradition. It’s been a place to reconnect, recharge, and remember what really matters, especially when life gets heavy.

The fire, the beach, the woods, the stillness… they’ve given me time to breathe. And while I don’t know what next summer holds, I do know we’ll be back out there, together.