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This year was different than last year in the tent. My pad has thinned out, and the ground wasn’t as forgiving. It rained a lot the first couple weeks, which was fun because it doesn’t rain much in Arizona. But that excess water gave life to an abnormal number of plants. Those plants dumped more pollen in the air than my allergies could handle. I had no filtered central heating system to ease my pain. I sneezed my way through miles of toilet paper. My eyes were itchy and watery every morning and through most of the day. But sacrifice is what Lent is all about. If I was comfortable outside, then it would’ve been a waste of my time.

Next year, I might take my tent with me when I travel on weekends. I’ve opted not to do this because I like to be an efficient traveler with the minimal baggage. Since I travel up north quite a bit, this will mean I have to pack a thick sleeping bag and some warm pajamas. But it could be adventurous to wake up under a blanket of snow.

I really enjoyed the change of scenery this year, but that’s about all I can extract for the experiment at this point in my life. I have so much work to do that I can’t even think straight. If nothing, sleeping in the tent simplified my life so that I could deal with all this stress.

Last night was bizarre because their was a posse of teenagers walked laps around the neighborhood loop in middle of the night. My tent was only a few feet from the sidewalk. Rowdy teenagers don’t intimidate me, but it’s a whole different story when I am laying on the ground in my underwear, separated by a thin cloth wall. When they came barking at each, scuffling their shoes along the sidewalk inches from my head—I didn’t know how to deal with the situation. I’ve just never encountered something like that before.

We went to sunrise Mass this morning. As cool as it is to start Easter Sunday that early, I can hardly make it through the whole Mass without falling asleep. Once we got home, the family charged through the house ready to start the adventures of the day. After sleeping in a tent for over forty nights, I could only imagine falling into a real bed. I slept for another five hours. I loved it!

Today is the happiest day of the year for Christians. After forty days of prayer and sacrifice, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. The older and more mature I get, the more Lent and Easter mean to me. It makes my devotion to God more deep and meaningful. It’s so beautiful to experience all this with my girlfriend. I love her so much.

Today was a fun day being a kid. I hopped in the car with John Sr. and the two youngest kids to go to an Easter egg hunt. The whole day of events were held on a baseball field at a community center not far from the coast. I’ve never seen so many happy kids and happy parents. I’m too old to be excited about face paint and balloon animals, but watching these laughing kids gave me so much joy. There was just so much life on that field!

Next to the field was an impressive skate park. There were kindergartners skating next to guys in there forties. It was so cool to watch old guys having as much fun as the young ones. Because I didn’t have a board, I sat on the bleachers with cheering section of proud wives and mothers. The only guy sitting besides me was a dude with his armed wrapped up in a sling. When I asked, he pointed to the tallest ramp and said, “I was up there last week and I fell down all the way there.” He’s lucky he only broke his arm.

It was fun seeing all these skater families. The dads still talked like pro-skaters, and the moms were pretty and still dressed hip. As a kid raised in the rural South, I never imagined this beachside life really existed. Truthfully, it wasn’t much different than the NASCAR families whose lives revolved around local racetracks where hometown boys can pretend they are big-time racers. It’s still just people doing what they love to do.

Last night I joined my girlfriend, her brother, and her dad on a trip across the desert to San Diego. The four of us have a great time hanging out with each other. We love to laugh, tell stories, and talk about God. It’s a memorable experience when you match such interesting conversations with the mystique of driving across the desert at night.

Part of the excitement of the road trip is the random towns you pass through. I always look forward to Yuma because of its miles of powdery sand dunes. For the half hour before we got to Yuma, we passed dozens of trucks pulling trailers loaded with motorcycles and dune buggies. It was interesting to look out the window and admire their collection of expensive toys.

As we drove past the dunes, I saw several sets of dune buggy headlights carving out paths up and down the miles of dark sand dunes. I couldn’t believe there were so many people out this late. The last time I drove through Yuma at night, there was only one guy on a motorcycle jumping the dunes in the distance. Tonight we we drove past one flat stretch of sand, and there were hundreds of campsites, each marked by a campfire flickering in the night. There were RVs, tents, and countless sand toys. It was a whole subculture that I never knew about.

Our next stop was Dateland, Arizona. There couldn’t be more than a thousand people who live in this tiny desert town. It’s known as an oasis because of its stand of date palms. The local diner serves milkshakes made with sugary dates. It’s our tradition to stop in and get a shake for the last leg of our trip. A few hours later, we were in San Diego. The ocean is just a hundred feet away, and you can feel the excitement in the air.

It’s Good Friday, so I’m going to spend most of this afternoon in silence and prayer. I’ve always enjoyed Easter more when I embrace the days that build up to Sunday. I think we’re heading down to the beach this afternoon, so it’ll be cool to take a prayerful walk with Candyce. I love her.

I’m up early (six) because I have a big day at work. It’s all cool stuff, but still a lot of work. My tent is almost worn out. In the past year or so, it’s spent almost 100 days under the desert sun. The fabric has become thin and almost brittle.

I don’t know how dignified it is to talk about bodily functions, but I can’t resist: I love peeing outside. I know girls don’t like to talk about this, and rightfully so. But guys talk about it all the time. Given the choice between going inside or outside, most guys will do it in the woods. Some people have told me that males just like to mark their territory. There might be some truth to that, but my carnal senses can’t confirm whose claimed which territory. The world is my backyard!