These are some things I love about back-country camping: The fresh air. The quiet. The crunch and swoosh of footsteps on a dirt path. The whistling birds. No cell phone service. Feeling totally and completely carefree — pigtails, no makeup. The fluttering butterflies. The rush of a brook’s flowing water. Climbing over rocks and down rugged paths. The piles of rocks along the trail, like a secret message: “You’re on track.” The smell of a campfire and the crackle of a fire. Sharing chicken-and-broccoli-flavored pasta and a can of tomatoes, okra and corn with A. The complete darkness. The fatigue from carrying a backpack for miles. Giving way to exhaustion and falling asleep in the crook of A.’s arm. Waking up to the sun. The fresh air. The quiet.