Children learn to love outdoors by being there

Out & About, by Eowyn LeMay Ivey

I have to admit, I was a little worried. I've camped alone. I've camped in bear country. I've camped in the rain and the snow and the cold. But never, ever had I camped with three children.

When my friend and I first talked about doing a weekend trip to Seward, we both assumed we'd be bringing along my 4-year-old daughter and her two older sons, 5 and 7 years old. It seemed like a perfect plan. We'd do some fishing, camping and sightseeing, and the youngsters would have each other for company.

But as we loaded our gear into the back of her SUV, the three youngsters sitting side by side in the backseat with piles of snacks on their laps, reality struck me. We would be driving for hours, setting up a tent, making a campfire, cooking and sleeping with a pack of children.

As we drove south to Seward, I tried to imagine what these next few days would be like. Would they fight and get whiney and cranky? Or would they have the time of their lives and make our trip even more fun with their enthusiasm? All my expectations, the best and the worst, would be met. They did fight. They did get cranky and whiney. But they also had a blast. They fished and watched sea otters and sea lions swim in the harbor. They helped gather firewood and set up camp. They played pirates in the bushes near camp while we cooked dinner. They curled happily into their sleeping bags at night and listened to me read a children's book. And all the while they kept us busy and entertained.

I've always believed that the best way to introduce children to the love of the outdoors is to just take them there. That is what my parents did for me, and since my daughter was an infant, my husband and I have taken her on hunting, fishing, trapping and berry-picking trips. Along the way, she has grown as attached to the land as we are.

The same is true of my friend's kids. Just the day before, the boys had returned from a several-day float trip with their dad and as we drove to Seward they told stories of the fish they had caught and animals they had seen. They had just one night at home in their beds, but they were ready for another couple of nights in a tent.

It's true that camping with children is different. You have to design the trips around them and then be ready to drop all the plans if things aren't going well.

You have to maintain some discipline and order, but allow them to have fun and enjoy the trip at the same time. You have to be enthusiastic and let them try things for themselves, even if it means going a lot slower. In truth, it's a lot of work. I came home as tired as if I had been on a weeklong moose hunt.

But it was worth it, not only for the fun that we had in camp and on the beach, but because of the foundation I think it's providing for my daughter and the boys. As I watched them on the trip, I realized how much they had already learned about the outdoors in their short life. The oldest boy, under close supervision, split kindling for the fire. The two younger ones learned how to roast marshmallows without blackening them in the flames.

Whether we were fishing on the docks or collecting seashells on the beach, the children were like little sponges, taking in everything around them. Without even realizing it, they were getting lessons on biology and water safety, camping etiquette and fishing skills.

I know why adults like to go camping without their kids. It's easier. In ways, it's more enjoyable. Certainly you can fish longer, hike farther and stay up later. But these are all small sacrifices to make, I've decided.

For one thing, if you don't take your children when they are young, you can't really expect them to know how to handle themselves in the woods, or even want to go at all, when they get to be teen-agers.

And while they created a little more work for us that weekend, the children also made it a lot of fun.

On the long, hot drive back from Seward, we stopped by a roadside lake and the kids strapped on their lifejackets and waded in. The water glistened in the sun, looking cool and inviting, but when my friend and I dipped our toes in we discovered it was downright icy.

But the children wouldn't let us off the hook. They stood with the water almost up to their chins, taunting us and baiting us to join them.

So we did it. We both plunged into the water and came up gasping and sputtering and feeling like were 7 years old again.

Eowyn LeMay Ivey covers outdoors and city government for the Frontiersman.