When one of my best friends signed up for a summer backpacking out West when we were like 15, she used her few precious minutes at a pay phone to call me and explain, “Julia, I am not a f*cking kumbaya kind of girl! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” I remember her being so miserable and me so amused—sure that if I were in her shoes, I would love it. Campfires, marshmallows, beautiful views, and deep friendships born out of shared experience… it all sounded wonderful to me. On Wednesday we pick up Matt’s uncle’s car and on Thursday we …