I am not a camper. I’ve never done it, and I have no real desire to. I like my air conditioning and my fully-charged phone and operational bathrooms with hot water, thank you very much.
This weekend, however, I went glam-camping — glamping — and I was in for an experience.
My friend and I had agreed to go on a little weekend trip to belatedly celebrate our birthdays. We found the coolest Airbnb around, a treehouse in Potosi, Missouri, with views of Spring Lake. On Thursday afternoon, we set off for a weekend of hiking, watching movies and, above all else, doing nothing.
The first night was awesome. We got into town around 6 p.m. and wound through country roads until we found the treehouse, high in the trees and overlooking the lake. Right away, we knew this weekend would be a treat. We spent the night yapping and snacking with no cares in the world.
On Friday morning, we had our first challenge: a five-mile hike that we did not prepare for. Armed with zero water and only a vague idea of where to find the trails, we set off on what looked like a path and then quickly had to backtrack when it became clear we were trespassing on private property. Oops.
Eventually, we found the hiking trails, only to face a new fear. A snake, slithering away on the path in front of us, made me jump back and shriek.
Dramatic, maybe, but I don’t care. That’s the one thing I cannot stand. Snakes are foes. My friend immediately crouched down to examine the creature, fascinated. I ran ahead, jittery and on edge.
The rest of the hike was uneventful, except for a fall on my part that left me with a scraped knee. (I have never, ever claimed to be graceful.) We made our way back to the cabin, chugged water, and settled in for more relaxation.
We had heard there was a storm coming. Things got a little ominous when the owners of the campsite stopped by to tie down the outdoor furniture and mentioned 80–90 mph winds. My friend and I exchanged a look.
As the afternoon turned to evening, the wind picked up and the sky clouded over. The trees outside the window shivered, then swayed, and the treehouse swayed with them. Lying in bed, it felt like being in the ocean. I closed my eyes and held on tight.
The storms weren’t as bad in Potosi as they were back home, but we were still in for an adventure, to say the least. The power knocked out around 4 p.m. A worker came by to turn on the generator — which did not work — and mentioned they were monitoring a wildfire two miles away.
My friend and I exchanged another look. Should we leave? We decided to stick it out. We did not know we were in for the storm of the century.
The power never did come back on. We used the flashlights on our phone to have a candlelit dinner. Darkness fell, then lightning lit up the lake. Lying in bed, the rain shattering down on the tin roof, lightning flashing through the window in erratic purple pulses, treehouse swaying in the wind, I felt a little like this might be the end. I decided to fall asleep and hope for the best.
Luckily, the storm ended, and we were okay. Trees had fallen around us, but the treehouse remained standing. We finally got the generator working around 9 a.m. and enjoyed the remainder of our glamping experience.
On the way home on Sunday morning, we reflected on the journey. It was certainly a story, but we were lucky. We passed several downed trees and knew we were driving through communities that had lost a lot more than sleep in those storms. I’m very grateful.
Going forward, we’ll definitely be back to Potosi, though maybe not in the height of the storm season. I might not be good at roughing it, but it turns out I did enjoy glamping very much. Nature is great when you can retreat back inside. Snakes, scrapes and storms aside, it was a great trip.
