I miss camping too. The outdoors was such a huge part of my life for so many years. Back in Arizona, my friends and I went out and explored every weekend. We would all take vacation at the same time and spend a week in some remote spot. We had a rule-no trails, nothing where we'd see other people, and everything we would need for the week had to fit in our packs and webgear. We were a bunch of "purists" I guess. We all had handheld GPS units, but always used the old reliable lensatic compass to get where we wanted to go.
We would rock hunt, watch all the wildlife, climb some insane rock faces, it was so much fun. I miss the campfire, the stories, and passing the tequila flask around. Once, we were exploring a really remote area of northern Arizona, and found a never before recorded or documented cliff dwelling. It was just there like the people who lived in it just left. There was a fire pit with ashes, and fully intact pots everywhere. We told the National Forest Service about it, and went out with them to show them where it was so they could record the locaion. I turned out to be an 800 year old Anasazi Indian ruin. Those pots sat there for 8 centuries undisturbed, amazing. I miss those adventures, and my friends. We had good times and saw things I'll never forget.
Every summer here in Maine, my family goes on a week long trip down the Allagash Waterway in canoes/kayaks. I have a decent kayak, and all the gear, but with Lupus I know it would be too much for me physically. I've never been, nor will I ever be the person who goes on a camping trip and ends up dragging butt and complaining all the time. Maybe someday, remission will happen, and I'll be able to camp again.