Camping

Washington State is a great place to live if you like to go camping, and we did our share. My family went camping quite a bit when I was little. It got us out of our little bitty house and into the expansive outdoors.  And it was free. That probably played a significant part in it.  Because my mom's parents were avid campers we were able to kind of slide into the camping world easily with little help from them.  They helped us out with things like having the necessary supplies and equipment, setting up the campsite, getting firewood, building the fire, cooking... All those things you take for granted when it comes to camping.

When we first began to go camping it was just our family and our limited camping equipment. Early on we only had a big canvas tent--probably military surplus. It was the standard military color of olive drab green, so it's very possible. I don't think we even had sleeping bags in the early days--just lots of blankets. As we got older, our camping equipment got a little better. At one point we bought a tent-trailer. It was small, light, and a lot less trouble to set up than a tent. Because everyone was getting older and took up more space might have been another reason. We had a small pup tent that was our supplemental family shelter. I used it every time, and I think Don was usually out there we me as well. It was like the "big boys" annex.

Camping occasionally caused us grief.  The sunburns, mosquitoes, cuts, scrapes... Those sorts of things.  I remember one time I was exploring near our camp that caused me some grief that was a little out of the ordinary.  I think I was pretty young--say, 8 or 10.  I was walking along on top of a dead log that was laying on the ground, and when I got near the end my foot fell through.  It was apparently the home a a pretty good-sized nest of bees or yellow-jackets or something.  I was immediately enveloped by them and was stung multiple times as I ran screaming blindly through the woods.  Luckily, I'm not allergic to such things.  There was one time when me and Don were on the other side of the river we were camped next to.  I don't know what we were doing, but Denis apparently wanted to join us.  The trouble was, Denis was very, very young.  I heard a holler and looked over to see him tumbling down the river end-over-end in the shallow, fast-moving water.  I ran out into the river and grabbed him with no trouble.

There was a lot of exploring to do when we got to a new campsite. That was always my favorite time.  I loved to go running off all directions to learn what kind of interesting features and terrain our new temporary home had.  We always camped near a river, so that was usually the first thing we investigated.  Trails, fallen logs, rivers--I loved exploring it all.

Another reason to go exploring was to get out of the way of setting up the tent. That was one of two things that always got under dad's skin. He had no patience at all when it came to setting up tents or stringing lights around the the Christmas tree.  I liked (and still do) camping a lot but I grew to really hate getting everything ready beforehand and putting it all away afterward. I think dad is to blame for that. He was always surly when it came to that kind of task-oriented stuff. It either rubbed off on me or I'm just the same way because of heredity. I don't like prep work or cleanup.

In later years, motorcycles were added into the camping thing.  Our family ended up with 3 50cc Honda Minitrails, and we loved to go tearing around on those.  I'm sure we pestered mom and dad to death with our, "Can we go riding now?  How about now? Can we go yet?" talk.  Those were fun times.