Last weekend was my first camping experience. It was a head-first adventure considering that I wasn’t allowed to bring many things you would typically want on your first camping trip. No phone, no bottled water, no food — we were completely off the grid and expected to be as self-reliant as possible. I arrived with enough layers of clothing to keep warm, a tent, a sleeping bag, a knife and a sheath. That’s it.

This isn’t an adventure I would have chosen. My mom, dad and I were visiting my 20-year-old sister at an outdoor school called Teaching Drum in Wisconsin, a place whose mission is to “facilitate the connection to self and to the Earth,” and to teach Ojibwe-inspired living. Basically, it’s the kind of place people often write off as hippie commune or a cult.

We only stayed there for three days and two nights, but my sister had been there since April. To get to her, we took a canoe ride, crossed a dam, traveled downstream, then hiked up through the woods. It took three hours on indiscernible trails and our guide, a Teaching Drum student, led us by memory.