The air in the high sierra is dry and earthy and you can find solitary lakes with hidden camp sites right up on the shore. Your crack monkey dog can run free and you can swim and sun yourself on your own private naked lake.
You can collect hoards of firewood and stay up late watching the campfire flames bow violently to the cold air blowing off the lake and you can shiver and pull your camp chair closer to the fire. (You can think about how hot it is back home and ask your lover if you can wear his blue Buffalo Bills sweatshirt that you used to despise until you found yourself cold in the mountains at the end of July and he'll give it to you even though he forgot his toothbrush and you could have reminded him when you were packing but you didn't because you were irked at him at the moment and not telling him was your revenge).
You can chop up potatoes, onions and carrots, wrap it in foil with a hunk of hamburger and cook it on the coals. In thirty minutes you'll have yourself a silver platter.
You can carve little wooden boats and fill them with pine sap scraped off trees with your pocket knife and you can carefully place them in the fire in homage to your ancestors, watching the sap melt and sizzle, then burst into flames.