Those who know me and my amazing wife will tell you that we are the definition of opposites attracting one another. We are polar opposites in most things. She (the R in T & R) is beautiful, smart, amazingly talented, creative, friendly, out-going, web and tech savvy and the list could go on. Then there’s me (the T in T & R). I am none of those things. But she is the jelly to my peanut butter – the cheese to my macaroni – the pineapple to my pizza. I could keep making a list of cheesy idioms, but I’ll spare you the pain!

Our differences are what make our marriage work so great. But there was one difference that we had a hard time overcoming. Before we met, when I was contentedly living the single life, one of my favorite things to do was throw a tent and sleeping bag, some food and one or more of my dogs in the car and go to the nearest state park—I’m kind of too chicken to go by myself in the middle of nowhere—and camp for a weekend.

My wife’s idea of camping was to go to a B & B or Air BNB that was in the mountains. She did not want to go camping with me no matter how many times or how nicely I asked, begged, or pleaded.

After almost a year of being married—and a few months into Pandemic 2020—we came to a compromise, purchasing a 17’ camper trailer. (Added bonus: We got to escape quarantine.)

To me, trailer camping kind of defeats the purpose of camping. BUT trailer camping is something that she would do, so I’ll take it! Plus, as I get older, sleeping in a tent is getting hard on my old bones.