The Big College Drop-Off Road Trip

In what might have been a moment of insanity, I hatched a plan to go camping before dropping my son off at college. The idea: Drive 14½ hours over two days from Colorado to Wisconsin, find a nearby state park, and pitch a tent for two nights. That way, we could spend the day before Move-In Day kayaking and hiking. It was my last-ditch effort to cram in a little mother-son bonding.

“As long as it doesn’t rain,” I told my husband, “it’ll be awesome.” Naturally, in the flurry of shopping and packing for the trip, I did not check the forecast.

On Illinois’ Rock Cut State Park campsite map, one of the last few unreserved campsites was situated on the edge of the lake. I wondered why no one had snatched it up. Waterfront property! When we arrived, we discovered the site was on the far end of a little inlet the lake—right where a scummy green-brown algae had collected. It was kind of gross. But otherwise, it was a nice spot in the woods.

“I kind of wish we were at a hotel,” Quinn said. Out of the mouths of teenagers.

We settled in and cooked our ramen over my favorite new camp stove. (It’s an MSR Windburner Duo Stove system, which I’m super excited about. Though it’s designed for backpacking, when you’re adding camp gear to a car filled with college gear, a lightweight, low-profile stove fits the bill).

Quinn chopped up our wood to make kindling—wielding the full-size ax brought him joy. We made a raging campfire and roasted marshmallows, trying repeatedly to achieve the perfect toast. When the coals died down, we snuggled into the tent and read our books. (No screens!) This was such a good idea, I thought.

Around midnight, it started to pour. I love the sound of rain pelting the tent walls—and the sound of it petering out. But this rain kept on falling all night long and into the morning. I checked the weather on my phone. The forecast called for precip until noon. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I thought.

I read my book while the teenager slept. And slept. At around 11 a.m., the skies finally cleared, and I made us sausages and oatmeal on my awesome new stove.

Sufficiently fueled up, we rented kayaks for a few hours and paddled around Pierce Lake (most of it wasn’t scuzzy). We did paddle in and out of what we learned was filamentous algae. Quinn pulled up a hunk as thick as wet wool with his paddle and threatened to chuck it at me.

We saw four blue herons, small turtles perched on water lilies, and an osprey fishing. As we floated side-by-side, our kayaks bumping, the osprey hovered over the lake, wildly flapping its wings before dive-bombing kamikaze style into the lake and coming up with a fish, its silvery scales winking in the sun. That moment alone made it all worthwhile.

Later in the afternoon, we took a hike in the park’s thick woods. We decided it would be a perfect place to dump a body if you needed to. I loved the last few days we spent together. They were lazy and slow-paced.

We were blissfully unaware that the next day—Move-In Day—would be frenetic and stressful. If we camp again next summer, maybe I’ll check the forecast first.

For more on Move-In Day, click here.