We Don’t Call It Camping… Where I’m From

Have you ever been camping?

Are you kidding me…

I’m a Gen X kid.

We didn’t call it camping…
that’s what city folks say…
when they do it once in a while.

We called it…

the weekend.

…and sometimes in the summer—
it was just life.

Growing up in Georgia…

I didn’t have to go anywhere—

to find it.

I lived on the edge of thick… deep woods…
the kind full of things
that could hurt you.

We weren’t scared…

didn’t matter—

we were in there anyway.

Kids… by ourselves…
no parents…
just dirt… trees… and whatever moved in the shadows.

Then there were the weekends…

My friend Chris—
his folks had land on Lake Oconee.

Man… we lived out there.

Tents…
or just sleeping by the fire…

Fishing… boating… skiing… swimming…

Great times.

And when I wasn’t there…

I was with my dad… and my uncle…
heading up into the north Georgia mountains…
along the Tallulah River.

We’d drive about 15 miles down a narrow gravel road…
till we hit the river crossing.

Then we’d drive straight through it.

Clear water…
ice cold… even in summer…

on the other side—
was nothing.

No people.

Just us…
and whatever else was out there.

Bears…
Bigfoots…
timber rattlesnakes…

just the locals.

We’d set camp right on the water…

Fish all day.

Rainbow… brown…
beautiful native brook trout…

Trout for breakfast—
fish… grits… eggs…

Lunch—
fish sandwich… chips…

Supper—
we went all out…

Grilled or fried fish…
vegetable kabobs…
baked potatoes in the fire…
salad…

We ate like kings out there.

I’ve caught so many fish in that river…
I couldn’t even guess the number.

Been going since I was about 7…

I’m 52 now.

Haven’t been in a few years…

Life gets busy…

…but that place is down in me.

Some summers…

the riverbanks would glow red—

tiny garnets everywhere.

We’d sift through them…
looking for the bigger ones…

We’d also look for gold…
found some too.

I remember once…
I had a handful of decent-size wild garnets and gold… glistening in my palm

but that place for me—
is more valuable than anything I can hold.

Then came Florida…

Lived there for 12 years.

Different world—
same soul.

Many freshwater fishing trips inland…
spent much time at many of the different springs…

…but also the coast…

I lived on Anna Maria Island…

Had a sea kayak.

Weekends…
I’d load up my truck…
drive to Bishop Harbor…

Drop in…

Paddle 45 minutes out
to these tiny… remote islands.

Set up camp.

Mornings—
I’d paddle and fish…

Afternoons—
back to camp…
eat… rest… chillax…

Evenings—
back out till dark…

Then nights…

just me…

the fire…
the water…
the sounds…
the wildlife…

Alone…

but not really.

Down there…

we call it…

Salt Life.

Had the sticker on my truck and everything.

So yeah man…

I’ve been what yall call camping
a few times 😁

All jokes aside…

I’m about that life.

It’s in me…

just like music.

been singing this in my head and on guitar all day…

Me and my buddy Jonathan… fishing in Florida

Jon and I were fishing when 3 huge wild boars walked behind us

My friend Jimmy holdin’ my fish… this is my pb 9.3 lbs… caught at Lake Istokpoga FL… Feb 2o14
Supper one evening on the remote island

Romans 1:20

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

© 2026 bryanforchrist. All rights reserved.

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kings of the rain `.°~\|(

I used to live in a tiny.. 95 year old.. two bedroom.. beach cottage.. on the west coast of Florida.. Anna Maria Island.. at high tide.. the Gulf of Mexico was maybe 50 feet or so from my back porch… a fabulous place… such a life… and in fact.. it was too close to the water… closer than other homes on the island… that small.. weak appearing structure.. had survived storm after storm after storm… throughout its life… it knew how to bend and flex with the wind… with life… just like the native palm trees that surrounded it…

me… the cottage… the palms… all together… all waiting… all ready… all prepared… for what was about to come…

On the horizon… something fierce… you didn’t need eyes to see it… you could feel it… it knew you… the breath of it.. once distant… now closer than ever…

It was a storm… and in it… a warning… leave the island… I’ve always been fascinated with bad weather… when people seek shelter… I go to my spot by a window… so I can see fully… eyes fixed… fear far off… I open the door… I feel like Im flyin`…

A few years earlier… I survived something… something that had me surrounded… everything outside… deepest black… but inside… where things matter… and count… a faint flicker burst… and riding the wind… beautiful in the night… were the Armies of Heaven… they came for me…

When I realized it was all over… that I was safe… I was met by a promise from high up… that I was to be kept… safe and sound… for all of my days…

I knew then… I was untouchable… that my storms… will fear and obey me… in them will I fly… in them will I reign… my finger in the eye of it… my foot… on its neck… the storm learned fear… not i…

The island was deserted… I found this out.. as I drove around it.. it was full of ghosts… people saw serious in the warning… and they were gone… I sat on my back porch… I was getting to see things that everyone else was missing… the sea was alive and wild… the turbulence… the waves… unreal… so came the wind… the rain… driven hard… angled… I decided to go inside and make some coffee… with an added shot of Jameson Irish Whiskey…☘️ haha…

I made the most of what was going on outside… and outside me… I played my guitar… I sang my songs… I lit smell good candles… I sipped smooth… strong drink… and I waited… never once afraid…

As time passed… the water rose… pushed by the wind… it surrounded me… I kept a close eye… prepared… just in case I needed to swim… find the shore… wherever it was… Im a good swimmer 😉… I looked out every window… all I could see was the sea… my home felt like a ship… never once worried for my life… the house stood in the wind… like it had done so many times before… this was the worst of it… the water just a few feet from the foundation… on all sides… never breaching… there was a force at work… that would only allow things to get so bad…

Knowing this…

I decided to take a nap…

and dream…

about things that really scare me…

like love…

…¹4³….→I→BELONG→n→SERVICE→OF→†→the..KING→…..not.→≠→IN→BETWEEN→……→↑→~|~→RAIN→~|~→↑’king… `.°~\|( -¡-~-¡°

Inspired by a story from aparnachillycupcakes… whose words sparked this reflection…

Also… while I was writing this piece.. I listened to the album “August and everything after” by Counting Crows…

© Bryan H. 2025 — All Rights Reserved

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