I had always exposed my boys to the great outdoors since… well, since the chord was cut. We played in the streams that flowed over the Niagara Escarpment, swam in the frigid waters of western Georgian Bay and the warmer waters of Lake Huron, canoed in the local town river, snowshoed in the back bush and camped as often as was possible. At the earliest of ages the kids showed a strong desire to ride a bike, push a wheel barrow, help build a tree house, and paddle the canoe by themselves. You couldn’t pay them to play inside, unless they wanted food.
So with my daughter at 3 months old, I did not hesitate to say to my wife, “let’s go camping this weekend.” Most people we told thought we were brave, ambitious and other code words which meant “you’re crazy!” My daughter was fine and more relevantly, we were fine. She had her 1st swim in the lake, 1st kayak ride, 1st campfire and 1st sleep in a tent! The hardest part was the 5 hour drive to the park.