London, Ontario circa 1983 – I moved into the complex of town houses at the end of the street that was at the time Cascade Ave with my family. Being 8 years old I didn’t care that it was the “slums” of London’s east side. All I cared about was that it was filled with kids my age and the fact that there was a humongous patch of woods that stretched from the end of the street almost a kilometre to some train tracks. Over the next 10 years I would make full use of that little piece of boyhood paradise. It had everything a boy could want. Trails, deer, snakes, frogs, fields, thick woods and even a ghost tree which had the legend of a suicide (or a murder…memory is kind of faded).
I would spend days and even nights camping out in these woods with my friends. We would even take treks down the train tracks to a trussel bridge to play around in the streams underneath. All we were missing was Ben E. King singing Stand By Me and a dog called Chopper.
Now that I’m 36 years old with a boy growing close to the age that I was when I had all my grand adventure, I’m looking to help my son get as much nature time as he can get. It is a different time in London these days. There is no sane parent that would let their 11 year old child stay out all night camping in some patch of woods at the end of their street. In fact, there is a major lack of wooded areas in London; at least the kind of unattended, edge of the city forestry like I use to enjoy. This is the reason I’m so looking forward to next year when my son will be old enough to go camping with me. I have yet to take him as of yet for a few reasons. One reason is I don’t believe in the kind of camping you see at Fanshawe Park. In my opinion, if you don’t have to hike to your camping spot and if there is a row of Port-a-Potties, then you’re not really camping.
The main reason I have yet to take Logan on any type of camping trip is his autism. He does all right with walks through Westminister Ponds, but even then, if the bugs are too bad he tends to have a melt down. Now though, I think he’s ready. Ready for the drive up north and ready to camp out with dear old dad. I can’t wait to try some fishing with him. I’m really looking forward to showing him what a real night sky looks like without all the noise pollution from the city. Most of all I’m excited to spend a whole weekend with my son beyond sitting beside him on the couch watching Scooby Doo specials.
