I mention this with a pinch of jealousy, because I spent last weekend camping up in Butler with a bunch or my friends from out-of-state. No, no, not this past weekend...you know, the one with 70-plus degree temperatures and bright, beautiful skies, but last weekend, otherwise known as Monsoon Season in Pittsburgh.

Now, having lived in Alaska for seven years and spent time camping in all sorts of weather, I'm used to some pretty rough trips. But even I was not prepared for the whipping winds, monotonous downpours, freezing nights and sudden freak storms that marked our four days of fun. After the first night, I expected to unzip my tent to find myself in Kansas, or at least somewhere slightly south of Oz. The tent spent the evening heaving to and fro as the winds increased and I cursed myself, while lying inside, for not staking the rain flap down more thoroughly. Or at all, to be honest. Sometime during set-up my friends showed up, distracting me from my important mission with good beer and better conversation, and leaving me completely unprepared for the tempest that would later occur.

I could go on and on about how difficult it is to sleep in a wet tent, or about the joy of finding one last pair of dry socks in the suitcase, but that's not what this blog is about. The point I want to make (and yes, I'm finally getting to it) is that even in the worst weather, I'd still rather be huddled inside a cold, damp tent with friends than sitting in a stale, filtered-air cubicle.

While the rain was raging above us (and around us, and at times, it seemed, under us, probably because I brought the wrong-sized tarp), we all gathered in my tent and caught up on each other's lives. Because of work and family commitments, I only get to see this group of people twice a year, and it's never long enough. But to be in such close quarters, soaking wet and smelling of wet blankets and wood smoke, was a treat. There's an intimacy in being so close together in a tent sharing stories while the rest of the world carries on outside that can’t be matched by any other experience. And there's a joy that comes from venturing out into the world after the storm has passed to witness, first-hand, the steam rising from the ground after a sudden downpour and the sky full of white clouds for the first time in four days. And for a true Hollywood ending, the appearance of a double rainbow arching above the storm-battered tents (the ones that were still standing, I mean.)

So for those of you who won't go camping when it rains, or who consider cancelling a trip because TV's 'severe weather team' is calling for bad weather, pack your stuff and go. So what if you get wet or cold? Or have a fever for a few days after you get home (in case you’ve been wondering where I was). The point is, being outside, even in the rain, is still better than being inside doing just about anything. You just have to make the weather part of the fun.