Chris and I have enjoyed the outdoors from the time we were little kids. My experience was shaped by growing up on a 100 acre horse and cattle farm that was about 60% wooded. There was no end to the walks, horse riding, and camping when I was growing up. Chris’ appreciation of nature was informed by walks and rides in the woods as well, although her family homestead was much smaller. After we had met in high school, there were times when we shared those walks, searching for salamanders or tadpoles or whatever kind of wildlife we could see along the way. We still do that when we go on our camping adventures. Camping taught us about life, nature, and how to get ourselves out of many predicaments.
I started out with a small canvass pup tent in a clearing on our farm that was once the spot of a maple sugar shack more than 150 years ago. My best friend Sonny and I would spend as much time camping back there as we could. That evolved into Dad buying a small 8 by 10 “cabin” and hauling it in on the back of a hay wagon. That cabin was a no-longer needed bathroom addition to a house trailer. Yep, old concrete shower stall and a commode hole in the floor. But Sonny and I fixed it up. It was great in the summer mornings when the horses would come up and stick their heads through the open window to see what we were doing. Then there were the family trips to Cook Forest. We had a lot of adventures there—I cut my leg on a two-man saw (still have the scar) and our friends camper caught on fire from a gas lantern explosion.
Both Chris and I camped each year at the Randolph Fair—not together. She had her tent that she shared with girlfriends. I had my old canvass tent. She tells the story of someone tied their horses to one of the tentpoles and the horses spooked and ran off with the whole tent. Dad and I camped one year together as a friend loaned him a fold-out camper. He came in late from a tractor pull one of the nights, and got in next to me. I slid out the backside and fell on the ground. That woke me up. Camping was always fun despite the inconveniences of no shower, bathroom facilities, and those early morning noises of the forest waking up. Chris and I were camping the year we won Queen and King of the fair.
My mom and dad loved camping, too. The winter of ’63 dad and I built our own camper on the back of a flatbed International pickup truck for a trip to all the states west of the Mississippi. From the Ozarks to Yellowstone and many historic places along the way, camping was my gateway to learning first-hand about this great country. With pup tents and repurposed bathrooms, explosions, and homemade campers long behind us, and the memories of those wonderful adventures and misadventures giving us many stories to tell, we continue the tradition of camping, albeit in our Class C luxury. And you know what? America still has that magic and wonder of nature, and great people that make up this great country. Camp on!!!!