HUDSON, Wis. — Sure, there are pickleball workshops, lunches in the dining hall, yoga classes and nature hikes. You’ll make friends over s’mores around the fire pit and maybe share a bunkhouse with roommates.

The biggest difference is that you — yes, you, a full-grown adult — are the camper.

“I’m here to find my zen,” Perry Nixon, a stay-at-home dad, said on the first morning of an adult pickleball camp in Hudson, Wisconsin. “I don’t get to do stuff like this, ever.”

The YMCA of the North this year introduced its first 18-and-over pickleball camp. Nestled on 400 acres along a scenic riverfront, Camp St. Croix is a summertime oasis for squealing kids and gangly teens.

But as soon as they headed back to school, the camp was converted to an adults-only playground for pickleball enthusiasts. The campers packed their sleeping bags, bug spray, sunscreen and pickleball paddles and sprinted toward a kind of three-day getaway that is typically reserved for children.

When I first learned about this new offering from the Y, it was as if my own prayers were answered.

I had been wistfully pining for the childhood I had created for my 11-year-old son, who spent the summer gallivanting from one magical weeklong experience to the next: From canoeing to cardboard weapon-building, his summers have always been a patchwork of day and overnight camps (excursions which I dutifully signed him up for) in which his only job was to play.

This time, it was my job to play — and play the sport I adored. Many of my fellow campers were similarly seeking joy and adventure.

“I can pretend I’m a child again,” said 68-year-old David Smith of Vadnais Heights, who recently retired from truck driving. Pickleball camp, he said, was a lot like his new day-to-day existence. My eyes went wide when Smith explained what was awaiting me in retirement.

“Every morning, I grab my backpack, get on my bike and find a pickleball court,” he said, beaming. “It’s great because you can do anything you want now.”

Tips from the pros

The Y recruited top-flight instructors for its debut pickleball camp. Leading the clinics was David Dutrieuille, former national pickleball director for Life Time. As we limbered up on the azure-painted courts with butt kicks and side lunges, Dutrieuille guided us like a Taoist teacher (with more muscular calves) along a conversational path extolling the virtues of the fastest-growing sport in the nation. Playing racquet sports, he assured this largely 55+ crowd, could extend our lives by 10 years.

But what resonated even more with me was when he summed up this addictingly giddy game.

“Pickleball,” he said, “is the only sport that captures the adult heart with childlike wonder.”

The difference between teaching children and adults, Dutrieuille told me later, is that grown-ups can endure learning a new skill for much longer periods of time than kids.

Still, one lesson he retained from coaching children is that it’s always best to hide a new skill in a game, much like a parent who sneaks in a leaf of spinach into their toddler’s grilled cheese.

Our teachers floated from court to court, making minor adjustments to our form and court positioning. One observed me getting jammed up near the net, ill-prepared to return some of the faster balls whizzing by me. He reminded me to keep my paddle out in front of me. That one tweak made a colossal difference, and I hit the next several balls with ease. Be still, my adult heart.

After that first clinic, Dutrieuille recapped what we learned. He asked us to provide the coaches with feedback that would make our experience even more positive.

Only one pupil piped up with a suggestion: “Ice cream!”

Campers find ‘what’s missing’

Adult overnight camps aren’t new. You can find programs bringing together foodies, foreign-language learners, LGBTQ+ folks, musicians (perhaps seeking their own ”one time, at band camp” memories), and those yearning for a more traditional summer camp experience.

The YMCA of the North has offered Y She Skis, a women’s cross-country skiing camp in Loretto, Minnesota, and adult art camps near the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. Registration for a women’s retreat at Camp du Nord in Ely this winter (think saunas, snowshoeing and massage therapy) is currently full. Using the pickleball camp as a model, the Y plans to expand its adult camp offerings to include yoga and cycling.

It’s hardly a mystery why interest in these adult getaways are growing. “Going through COVID was a shift for people and helped them realize what was missing from their lives,” whether it was slowing down or being in nature or finding a sense of community, said Theresa Douglas, the business development manager at Camp St. Croix.

Nearly 40 people registered for pickleball camp (registration started at $200, not including lodging, though those low prices are going up), and half of the campers opted to stay overnight. That’s the perk of being an adult: You can opt out of any activity, and if you’re not up for sleepaway camp, you can even drive yourself home to sleep in your own bed. (The next pickleball camp is May 12-14.)

When Rob Hardcopf woke up in his Apple Valley home before heading to his first day of camp, he had butterflies. He told his wife about his nerves. How would he play in a new environment with people he’s never met? What if his roommate snored at night and kept him awake? “We did it all as kids, but how does it work as adults?” he wondered.

The cabins were comfier and more spacious than Hardcopf and other campers imagined, and even the clean bathrooms were a welcoming sign. An evening social featured live music, seltzers and beer.

Nixon, the stay-at-home dad from Minneapolis, was all in. It was his wife, knowing how obsessed he was with the sport, who signed him up for sleepover camp. Nixon said he never was able to attend camps like this when he was a kid. (”We were broke.”)

Now, the barrier is more time than money. With the U.S. surgeon general warning about parental burnout, it’s clear now more than ever that even caregivers need care — and a little bliss, too.

“If we don’t take the time to do this as parents, it won’t happen,” Nixon said. “So here I am.”