Let’s pitch this straight. There exists a fundamental, unbridgeable canyon between camping and what I shall generously term “suburban resettlement.” The original, the old-skool, the gloriously gritty “Be Prepared” ethos of scouting isn’t just a method; it’s a mindset. It’s the understanding that the journey—with all its wrong turns, its forgotten tent poles, and its hopelessly tangled fishing line—is the entire point. Modern camping, however, seems to be solely focused on deleting the journey entirely and fast-traveling to a sanitized, Wi-Fi-enabled endpoint that smells vaguely of citronella and poor life choices. I’m not just ranting. I’m conducting a public service announcement for the soul of adventure.  What passes for camping now is a grotesque pantomime of outdoorsmanship. These invaders of the peace don’t pack a kit; they upload a delivery order. The triumphant hunt? Scrolling through Grab or Food Panda to see which overpriced burger joint will brave the dirt roa...