Did you learn how to pitch a ridge tent? I did and it is the teaching I remember more than those first camp nights.
Camping rituals
It seemed to me, at the tender age of eleven, there was a ritual to the whole affair. Even then I was aware of the passing down of skills. Like sailors on a land-ridden sea as we pitched we, master and apprentice, were not only partaking of tradition, we were becoming tradition.
Continue reading “Wet tents at dawn – remembering the old ways”