Camping on the Toccoa River
It had been three years since we partook in our family’s most freeing past time. Camping! The two years we lived in Virginia I couldn’t get a handle on the perfect camping window of time that isn’t over run with bugs or too cold. I also didn’t want to book the wrong campsite and end up sandwiched between confederate flag-toters. This is my real thought process. Fears aside, with the camping itch too strong to ignore we finally booked a spot along the Toccoa River.
There are so many places we have felt comfortable in this part of Georgia that called us to explore more.
The weather is perfect and with the major pollen drop out of the way we started preparing for our spring break trip. Bobby was in his element ordering the items in our camping supplies that needed updating. He made sure that we had a well-stocked and well organized trip. Since we have two dogs now, we chose to take two separate cars for the just-under-two-hour drive. Bobby, Judah, Amanu and Maverick in one car, Me, Echo, Nali, and Happy in the other. Admittedly, I have some anxiety around safety (which comes with the territory of receiving so much information to constantly process, and feeling the bad memories of places) so I said a prayer and sent a iridescent web of safety to our campsite.
We arrived midday and witnessed the Toccoa River in all her glory.
Our primitive campsite that didn’t have camp hosts or flush toilets was steps from the River. There were lots of fishers, and canoers. The prickle of fear of the possibility of a racist encounter dissipated as almost everyone we encountered-even the folks who drove by the road disecting our campsite from the water- waved and smiled as they passed by. We were glad that it was a small lazy road although the proximity to the road was not ideal. Our campsite was pretty big, it backed up to a dense, hilled tree line. We felt safe. Judah is usually the fire keeper and he was thrilled that the last campers left us their fire stick (the stick used to tend the fire. This one had a perfectly scolded point).
Once the tent was up the Brownies went down to the water. What ensued was a great outdoor stay and big realizations— mainly that we are all growing up. We are not the same family we were the last time we camped. We all require different things and have different capabilities to offer the whole. There are a lot of voices and opinions in our family and we all know how to share them! When the kids had settled in the tent with the dogs in that sweet moment where they are sleeping the hardest they’ll sleep all night, Bobby and I met at the fire ring to commune for our very simple, but very meaningful camping tradition of sitting together and savoring the pause. The pause where for a moment, cranky tired kids are sleeping soundly before any number of them wake up in need of their parents’ help.
The next day, we had warm drinks on the crisp morning and walked the dogs to further explore our surroundings. The moment the sun touched us through the clouds the kids were running down to the Toccoa River again to float in the current. That was our day. Our plan was to stay longer, but we decided to go home a night early. In the evening before we left Echo and Nali noticed a gathering of butterflies. For our whole trip Echo wished that one would land on her, and in this moment, one did! It surprised her, and she screamed, all the butterflies flew away except for one who tried and then got swept away with the rivers current. We ran on the land beside the butterfly watching in sadness as it would take flight for a few beats of its delicate wings before being swept into the water again. The girls ran ahead, to an outcropping of rocks that met the river’s edge. From the banks of the river I yelled to them that I could see the butterfly and to reach it they’ll have to get wet. Working together, they waded into the river and caught the butterfly just as it was going to be further swept away. I ran to meet up with them, climbing up the rocks, wet from the waste down cradling the little insect. They saved it, and as soon as its wings were dry it flew away.
Our sites were packed, the kids removed wet clothes and climbed into the cars. I did one last sweep of our campsite. Making sure we left it better than we found it, and leaving an offering for a big tree between us and the road when I saw Judah’s offering. On top a rock atop a mossy, decaying stump, Judah had placed the fire stick and around it green leaves and branches. In the butterflies, and in the passing of a torch.. the kids still recognize the small, sacred things. Yes, our family has grown, and we still remain the same at our core.
The morning after we returned home from our trip the same type of butterfly relaxed on our dinning room window just long enough to be observed.
Xo,Yhanni