Life After Labor Day — The Wee Wanderer

There is nothing quite as pathetic as a Pacific Northwesterner at the tail end of Labor Day Weekend. Visit any campsite in Washington State, and you’ll see sad-looking adults silently eating their oatmeal and poking solemly at fires, while their kids meander aimlessly on their bikes. Packing up is never jovial; it’s a glum affair, the main topic of conversation being whether to do that hike we talked about yesterday or head back early to beat the traffic.

You see, no self-respecting Seattleite wakes up at home on the first Monday in September. We’re out there inhabiting every conceivable pocket of outdoor space, soaking up the Vitamin D, and trying to savor what many of us consider to be our birthright: the last chance to camp. We’ve been at it since Memorial Day, hiking and mountain biking and swimming and kayaking. We’ve been berry picking and bird watching and beach combing. Mac n Cheese has become a staple of our diets. We have suntans. Us!

But for most of us, Labor Day is the last hurrah. All of those sad campers are thinking the same thing: I don’t want it to end.

But here’s the thing: It doesn’t have to! We associate Labor Day with the end of summer (the solstice is actually 3 weeks away), going back to school (if you’re over 18, that’s not a thing anymore), and rain (it’s only slightly more likely to rain in September than it is in July). Labor Day is not a bookend. It is, in fact, arguably more fun to camp in the fall than in the summer. Here is my reasoning:

1) The crowds thin out.

Seriously, folks. I love the Northwest, but there are so many of us out there! I would never ever, under any circumstances, attempt to go camping with a toddler without a reservation between Memorial Day and Labor Day. But September is a different story. People think it’s over and have packed up for the season. Ohanepecosh? Kalaloch? Yes, please. Many National Park campgrounds, including these two, stop taking reservations after the first or second weekend in September and open on a first-come, first-served basis. And some popular state parks that are perfect for people with kids, like Deception Pass and Fort Flager, which are booked solid 6 months in advance, have openings after Labor Day. I just checked. It’s true.

The crowds thin out at Ohanapecosh in mid-September

2) The weather is cooler.

Cooler days are just more comfortable. Getting into your sleeping bag at night after a day of sweating is actually kind of gross. Plus, is there anything cuter than a baby in a beanie? I mean it, you guys. I have written at length in this blog about my particular aversion to the cold. But we’re not talking freezing temps here. We’re talking 50s and 60s during the day and down to the 40s at night. Yes, you need to bring fleece. But if you’re anything like me, you probably packed for a snowstorm (“just in case”) throughout the summer, so now you’ll actually get to use those adorable mittens you bought your wee one back in July. Oh, and – it gets darker earlier, so your kiddo can go to bed in the tent at a respectable hour again, and might just sleep a little later in the morning.

Nothing cuter than a baby in a beanie! (This hat was a gift. I went to UW. I just had to say that.)

3) Your system is dialed.

By September, it’s down to a science. Everything is in bins. You do not have to run around the house in a panic an hour before your scheduled departure time because everything you need – including hot sauce and paper towels (hint, hint) – is already in the bins. (What’s that you say? Your stuff’s not in bins?? Get yourself some Rubbermaid storage containers and put all your camping gear in there. Everything. Yes, you need an extra set of everything – silverware, Ziplock bags, bottle opener, what have you – for camping. This will be a very fun trip to Goodwill. I have an extra pair of prescription glasses for camping. If you have kids, you need bins. End of story.) You know that all your kid needs for entertainment is a bike, a couple of sturdy toys, and some books for bedtime. Really, you could do this with your eyes closed at this point. You’ve hit your stride – why stop now?

4) Expectations are high.

If you’ve done it right all summer, you say, “We’re going camping!” and your kid says, “Yay! Elmo fork!” because you are smart and gave him a cool camping fork. But honestly, let’s be real: camping doesn’t need a cool fork. What could be more exciting to a child (or many adults for that matter) than a campfire or a giant slug or a headlamp? Tents are awesome. Bedtime is later. Dirt is everywhere and there is no bath in your future. And you can ride your bike in the street. Labor Day Shmabor Day. Let’s keep doing this, people!

OK, full disclosure: I’m a teacher, so I need to engage in positive self-talk every year around this time about life after Labor Day. I think about my students, who spend so much time outside during the summer, and then are suddenly expected to spend the majority of their day inside, working in a chair or sleeping in a bed, or going through the rigmarole of preparing to do one or the other. I like to consider September as a transition month, bridging the divide between summer and work, which makes the change a little easier for all of us to bear.

Perhaps the best thing about fall camping is that Labor Day morning doesn’t feel so bittersweet anymore. It feels like an actual holiday. Our next camping trip – the annual September pilgrimage to Mt. Rainier – is in two weeks, so we packed up on Monday morning feeling pretty cheery. Because it isn’t over. The Elmo fork will spear at least one more round of Mac n Cheese before the sun sets on our camping season.