My wife and I were in one tent with our two young kids;our friends Jessica and Michael,and their two children,were in another.A hundred yards away was Summit Lake,the glorious early morning mists shimmering off the water.A couple miles to the south-west was the base of the Lassen Peak Trail.The base was 8,000ft above sea level,huge snowbanks dotting the landscape even in mid August.The peak of the volcano soared 2,500ft above,its ragged tree line halfway up,marking the outer limits of ecological regeneration following a series of hundreds of"minor"eruptions in the early 20th century that were immortalised in the photographs of BF Loomis. Above,lay a rocky,craggy moonscape.Further west still was Bumpass Hell,an inferno of bubbling,sulphurous mud and water,with plumes of steam rising up through the delicate crust surround ing the cauldrons. We fired up the camp stove,got out our cold boxes from the heavy metal bear-locker, fried up some bacon,cut open some bagels,and boiled up a thermos-full of coffee. Half an hour later,my six-year-old daughter and I were in the parking lot of the Lassen peak trail,getting ready to hike as far as we could up the mountainside.We wouldn't make it all the way-young legs get pretty tired on a steep mountain trail in the thin air two miles above sea level-but it didn't matter.We would see nature at its extremes:grand vistas spread out below us,the volcanic ash that layered on the earth turning the melting snows an eerie pink as the sun struck it;the blues of the sky shading into the blues of distant lakes,which in turn shaded into the whites and pinks and grays of the snowpack. My daughter grabbed my camera.She wanted to take a photo of "the composite"of colours.Looking out over that landscape,and seeing my daughter grappling with the immensity of nature,I felt stupid about my momning tirade. Yes,camping is uncomfortable.And yes,there's a lot to be said for getting out a credit card,reserving a room in a nice hotel with a large TV in front of which to park the kids,and going out for a fancy meal and a good glass of wine.But there's also something infinitely wonderful about being so close to raw nature.And,as important,My wife and I were in one tent with our two young kids; our friends Jessica and Michael, and their two children, were in another. A hundred yards away was Summit Lake, the glorious early morning mists shimmering off the water. A couple miles to the south-west was the base of the Lassen Peak Trail. The base was 8,000ft above sea level, huge snowbanks dotting the landscape even in mid August. The peak of the volcano soared 2,500ft above, its ragged tree line halfway up, marking the outer limits of ecological regeneration following a series of hundreds of "minor" eruptions in the early 20th century that were immortalised in the photographs of BF Loomis. Above, lay a rocky, craggy moonscape. Further west still was Bumpass Hell, an inferno of bubbling, sulphurous mud and water, with plumes of steam rising up through the delicate crust surrounding the cauldrons. We fired up the camp stove, got out our cold boxes from the heavy metal bear-locker, fried up some bacon, cut open some bagels, and boiled up a thermos-full of coffee. Half an hour later, my six-year-old daughter and I were in the parking lot of the Lassen peak trail, getting ready to hike as far as we could up the mountainside. We wouldn't make it all the way – young legs get pretty tired on a steep mountain trail in the thin air two miles above sea level – but it didn't matter. We would see nature at its extremes: grand vistas spread out below us, the volcanic ash that layered on the earth turning the melting snows an eerie pink as the sun struck it; the blues of the sky shading into the blues of distant lakes, which in turn shaded into the whites and pinks and grays of the snowpack. My daughter grabbed my camera. She wanted to take a photo of "the composite" of colours. Looking out over that landscape, and seeing my daughter grappling with the immensity of nature, I felt stupid about my morning tirade. Yes, camping is uncomfortable. And yes, there's a lot to be said for getting out a credit card, reserving a room in a nice hotel with a large TV in front of which to park the kids, and going out for a fancy meal and a good glass of wine. But there's also something infinitely wonderful about being so close to raw nature. And, as important