Yup, you read that right. For whatever reason, Kolter believed that it was not only sensible but safe to bring my city-girl-raised-in-the-concrete-jungle-can’t-survive-without-wifi self-camping.

My time in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, has easily some of the worst days I’ve experienced thus far. Between the extreme cold weather that required us to plug in our car overnight (yeah..), having racial slurs thrown at me from moving vehicles while attempting to walk down the street, and my white boyfriend who often forgetting that I was raised by two Caribbean parents who did not equip me for sleeping in the forest… I’d say calling it some of my worst day is not an over-statement.

On the bright side, I’ve checked camping right off of my bucket list. The deed is done, and never to be mentioned again.

Before you hop info the video below to see what I’m droning on about, I want to preempt these videos, explaining my completely inappropriate outfit, considering the activity. I was told that we were going to a country club. On television, country clubs are very posh establishments with dress codes, tennis courts and butlers. In Dawson Creek, a country club is a shack in the woods that only a person with a death wish, or an insane boyfriend, would enter.

Watch my vlog and feel my pain…

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