I fail to see the purpose in camping.

This is not a troll thread. I've been "camping" probably 5-6 times in my life. Most recently about two years ago I went alone, planning for 2 nights and 3 days. After the first day slogging a far too heavy pack around 6-7 miles down what I found out was a horse trail a few days after a rain (pic related), my knees were too blown out to go past the first night. I turned around, went back to the car, tossed the tent up next to it and left the next morning so sore I could barely move.

During the trip I saw miles of nothing but trees and bog. Ocmulgee river ran as a nice brown shitstain like it always does somewhere nearby. Somehow I managed to both get sunburned and the temp was near freezing at night during March of 2014.

While out there and after, I just couldn't see the appeal. The "fun" of being alone, hauling a giant ass pack around, all so I could...what, be alone? I can be alone at home right now.

I've spent plenty of time fishing in my youth, hunting, whatever - I just fail to see how people get enjoyment from camping. Maybe if you lived in a place like Utah or Montana or somewhere there is actually something spectacular to go climb and see without a lot of issue.

There is nothing spectacular about a mosquito-filled swamp that's sitting around 100% humidity 10 months out of the year and loaded with copperheads.

I'm planning to try again soon, but as I'm putting all of this together, I'm still wondering: Why?