“Right here looks like a good spot.” It was at this moment that I had to ask myself what the hell I was doing out here. When my friend Hailey had asked me if I wanted to go along on an outdoor weekend excursion down the Saco River in a canoe, she conveniently omitted the part about just how outdoors-y it was going to be. Sleeping in a tent? Sounds great. Cooking all of our meals over a campfire? Sounds exciting. Having to dig our own hole and put a barrier around it to serve as a toilet? Not great or exciting. But I told myself I wouldn’t become one of “those” people. Those people who cringe at the sight of nature, and who can’t stand to be away from technology and society for more than a few hours. Those people who think staying in an air-conditioned RV on a campground that includes a bathroom with plumbing is “true camping.” I knew I was already well on my way to becoming one of “those people.” I was developing an addiction to technology, from the internet to video games. One of my first thoughts when Hailey proposed this idea was “Wow, I’m going to miss out on a lot of posts on Tumblr.” It was at that moment that I knew I had to do this. I needed to reconnect myself with the natural world, like I had been when I was a kid and the internet didn’t exist at my house. As much as I hated the idea of having to squat down in the mosquito-infested woods to do my business, I knew that at that point I had no other choice; I would just have to deal with it. We had awoken early that Saturday morning in August at Hailey’s home and, with her death trap of a car packed to the brim with sleeping bags, food, a canoe, and five teenagers, departed on our journey to Maine, following a few members of Hailey’s family who were also going. Three extremely long hours later, we arrived at the departure point and packed up four canoes and a kayak before taking off on our three hour journey to the campsite. The campsite without plumbing. Along the way, my canoe buddy Heather and I raced ahead of the rest of the group, gaining speed and distance with the canoeing skills we didn’t know we had. Personally, I was going off of what I had learned on the canoeing game in Wii Sports Resort: Firmly grasp the oar with both of your hands and smoothly stroke it in the water beside you, periodically switching sides. (Ironically, I always hated the canoeing portion of the game, but I found that the real life counterpart was much more enjoyable.) One of the most fascinating parts of the ride to the campsite was the view. I wasn’t a stranger to the beauty of nature itself, but I was to the beauty of the Saco River. Luscious green trees lined the tops of the edges of the river that smoothly sloped into the water. The terrain beneath the canoes went from smooth sand to hordes of rocks and everything in-between. It went from one foot deep to ten or more feet deep. At some points, in the deeper sections, we would be gliding with the current over rocks the size of cars, and because the water was crystal clear, we could see every detail right down to the bottom. I was also amazed by the various animals we came across. There were the typical creatures, like squirrels and birds common to New England, fluttering about on the edges. But underneath the surface of the water lay a whole new world. There were fish ranging in size, color, and shape swimming below us in pods. Little crustacean-y creatures fiddled around in the shallower parts. We even saw turtles (snapping turtles, we were later warned) meander out of our way as we passed by. We arrived at the beach-style campsite and quickly set about unpacking and setting up. It took all five of us teenagers to set up the tent we’d be sharing, and then Hailey, her grandfather Papa Don, and I started the setup of the toilet hole a few feet into the woods. Within five minutes of standing out there, I was coated with dozens of mosquito bites. It was at that point that Heather handed me bug spray. “You look like you need this,” she said. Once the hole was finished, I sprayed every surface around the area with bug spray. Miraculously, it seemed to help a little. We spent the rest of the day swimming around in the river, letting the current drag us to one side of our mini-beach and then walking back to the other side to do it all over again. I quickly found that I was enjoying myself immensely, and all thoughts of Tumblr and other internet activities that usually consumed my thoughts floated away with the leaves resting atop the surface of the river. As darkness descended upon the camp, we threw on our hoodies and settled down to eat the fire-grilled meal that Papa Don had thrown together. We chatted, shared stories, and laughed about everything and nothing. For me, it felt like we were truly camping. No television. No internet. No video games. No filter. It felt nice. It felt relaxing. Most of all, it felt refreshing. The night passed by uneventfully, and I was pleased to hear only natural sounds all around me. There were no planes, trains, or automobiles disturbing the serenity that had enveloped me. I could only hear the crickets chirping, the leaves rustling in the wind, and Heather snoring like a chainsaw. The next day, we had a delicious breakfast grilled atop the same campfire, and the end of our adventure drew closer. We cleaned up any messes we had made and packed everything up, including the sheet that acted as a barrier for the toilet hole. Once everything was arranged as neatly as possible, we set off down the river again. The distance we had to travel that day was less than half the distance we had on Saturday, but we all seemed to come to a consensus that we should take it slow. Everyone sat back to relax and let the current alone guide us down the beautiful Maine river. We passed over more turtles, rocks, and dead logs (one of which my friends got stuck on) and we all took in the scenery around us. We were at the end far too soon, and before I knew it, we had the cars packed up and we were driving back home. Since that weekend adventure, I have made a point to spend time outside each day. Even if it’s only a few minutes, it’s better than sitting inside immersed by social media and Netflix. After all, the Wii games can pretend to teach me how to canoe, race a bike, and do archery, but I won’t really know how to do something (or how much I enjoy something) until I get outside and do it.
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