Roughing it

My idea of roughing it.

His whole class is going--11 people. As he excitedly gave me some of the details of the trip I couldn't help but think to myself that a couple of bears could take them all out in about 15 minutes.

There was a time in my life I might have been excited about a trek like this. After all I grew up camping and hiking. It's only been since I married my husband nine years ago that I gave up camping. (At least that is the excuse I use).

His idea of roughing it, which has grown on me, is to camp out in a Holiday Inn with a Jacuzzi tub in the room.

We go the Smoky Mountains fairly often, in fact, we may retire there. We drive up the mountainsides and pull off in the overlooks and like all the other tourists, get out and take pictures or just breath in the beauty of the place.

Occasionally, we take short hikes and afterward hit the hot tub with a margarita, proud and exhausted after our outing.

We can stroll with the best of them up and down the main street of Gatlinburg, popping in and out of the stores to pick up a few treasures. Luckily, there are benches and rocking chairs located about every 10-15 feet.

We take advantage of them because after all, my husband is carrying that big old bag filled with socks from the sock store. The irony here is that those socks are made here in Indiana near Nashville but we go all the way to Tennessee to buy them.

The simple truth is that while we still enjoy a little adventure, afterward we like going back to the cabin we always stay in. We don't feel the need to sleep under the stars when we can soak in a hot tub and see the same constellations overhead.

We don't need to hike all day in the woods or mountains to appreciate their beauty. We can sit in the rocking chairs on the porch and breathe in the scent of the pine trees and fresh mountain air.

We don't have to cook our food over an open fire to enjoy it. The ribs from Bennett's Barbeque have all the woodsy aroma we need.

Growing old isn't for sissies. I've heard a lot of people say that. And, I'm finding it's true. Besides the grey hair, arthritis, back aches, leg cramps and forgetfulness, there is the lack of incentive to do something like climb a mountain or hike the Appalachian Trail or go on a survival trip.

Instead there is growing sense of appreciation for life and its simple pleasures. A warm, soft bed, a hot tub to soak in after a two-hour trek through stores of Gatlinburg, a good meal cooked by somebody else and a chillied bottle of wine are appreciated in a way they never were before.

Now, we can sit around the campfire pit in our backyard and listen to our son's stories of moose, beaver, bears and glaciers with a glass of good wine, a warm jacket and a sense of how great life is and how much we appreciate it.

We're looking forward to hearing about our son's latest adventure. We have logs in the campfire pit and my husband picked up a new bottle of Camelot Meade from the Oliver Winery.

We just have to wait 16 days to open it, kick back, turn on the speaker phone and live vicariously through his latest foray into the Alaskan wilderness. And, later we'll go to sleep in the comfort of our own bed. Ah, life is good.