Camping

Childhood Memories

Crackle, crackle, crackle...do you hear that? It's the sound of a fire, but not any fire, a camp fire. Let me take you back in time to my childhood, a happy place filled with water balloons, sunshine, boat rides, and of course, camp fires.

I am the youngest of three girls. During the summer it was always a tradition for our parents to take us camping as much as they possible could. Our camper was little and white with green paint chipping off of the side. It had one microscopic bedroom, two bunk beds, a couch, and a table that folds into a bed. The camper also included a tiny kitchen, one only big enough to wash the few dishes we ever used. None of this really mattered to us considering we were rarely inside the camper.

 As soon as we got to the camp ground we would roll a large green rug outside of the camper and would set up the awning out to shade us from the blazing sun. After getting smothered in sunscreen we were allowed to run around, ride our bikes around the loop, or my favorite thing to do, collect sticks. If we were really lucky sometimes our parents would take us down to the beach to build sand castles or play in the semi cold water. No matter what, at the end of the day we would always have a camp fire and my dad always roasted us a delicious red hot dog. We would end the campfire with him reading a scary story and us taking a blue poker stick and setting the tip of it on fire and holding it to the sky and at the top of our lungs we would scream, "calling all aliens!". This is something only we would understand.

Camping was a huge part of my childhood and I had some of the best times of my life in that small campground Pick City. It was great bonding time with my family, especially my sisters. Even now that we have sold our camper, my sisters are no longer living in the same house as me, and life is moving on. I will never forget all of the funny and precious memories we had going camping.