Campsite Magic

Side note before we dive into it: If you’re wondering what those dangly things are in the picture—yes, those are fishing hoochies. Odin has loved them since before he was even two. Forget stuffed animals… give that kid a tackle box of hoochies and he’s happy.

Okay, let’s get started.

There’s a certain rhythm to the first camping trip of the season—the pulling of gear from its winter rest with the last lingering scent of last summer, the grocery runs, the tarp folding, and the list-making. And around here, the boys are part of it all.

They don’t just show up for the fun. They help pack the bins, gather kindling, and double check that everyone’s socks are wool and no one forgot a raincoat—because even if the forecast promises 70 and sunny, Southeast Alaska doesn’t always take requests.

We teach them to be ready. How to stay warm and dry in a place that can be unforgiving, even in June. They learn how to layer, how to prep to start a fire, how to help pitch a tent tight. These aren’t just chores—they’re little rites of passage, markers of growing up outdoors.

And once we pull into the site, that magic still hits. The excitement bursts open. They’re off into the trees with their adventure packs, sticks doubling as swords, wild and free. But now, their freedom is backed with knowledge. They know how to dry wet boots by the fire. They know where to keep their flashlights. They can feel a weather change and look up to see how the weather is shifting, just in case.

The simplicity of it all still shines—the smoky campfire meals, the dirty fingernails, the stars peeking through cedar branches. Mom and dad sipping coffee by a fire at first light. But the deeper beauty is this: they’re learning how to be prepared, how to be capable, how to meet the wild with wonder and wisdom.

That’s the real magic. Not just that they’re having fun—but that they’re becoming the kind of boys who know how to thrive out here.

Here’s to raising boys who carry wonder and curiosity in their hearts and the emergency hot wheels car in their pack—ready for whatever the woods (or the weather) may bring.