Champing.

I've decided when you beach your boat on an island, pitch a tent, build a fire and pee in the woods, the term "camping" doesn't quite capture the spirit of pwning the great outdoors. Champing. That makes me feel like I accomplished more than a basket of dirty clothes that reak of smoke and a sore back from sleeping on the ground.

On Saturday afternoon, I headed into the wilderness with two friends for a bit of champing. With a few last-minute supplies in hand, we took a boat to a little island in Lake Tuscaloosa. After finally finding a place to tie the boat, we unloaded and foraged the land for a place to sleep and some firewood. But in Grand Gail Fashion, I first slipped on the mud, fell into the lake, and went without shoes for the remainder of the trip.

We built a fire, pitched the tent and cooked some beef, potatoes and carrots. (Quick side note: anything tastes good when camping, but try marinating in equal parts Dr. Pepper and Dale's Sauce. Yum!) After dinner, we explored the island and found some interesting rocks to climb. We just layed around the rocks and chatted about anything that piqued our interest.

Overall, it was a wonderful getaway from the busyness of life. We did joke about the fact that we had iPhones to check the scores of the football games, but we mostly stayed away from technology for 24 hours. Take some time this Thanksgiving holiday to soak up the beauty of nature. God surely manifests himself there (Psalm 24).

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the Universe, and feel

What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

-Lord Byron, from Childe Harold, Canto iv, Verse 178