Camping and hiking

Between the unique camp-outs with dad, and mom's ingenious camping ideas, I really don't know where to being. I don't remember the first time I ever went camping, because we were camping as a family before my memories began. It was just something we always did, and I loved it! I loved the freedom, as a child, of roaming and exploring the seemingly vast expanses of wilderness near our campgrounds. I loved making huts in the brush. I loved listening to the nearby river, especially at night in my tent or under the stars (perhaps because during the day the river was drowned out by the sounds of John Denver from dad's battery powered tape player). I didn't mind the bug spray (it has always been better than the alternative), and I actually like the campfire smoke smell. I remember having french braids so that I woundn't have to worry about doing or washing my hair. I loved lying in the hammock, collecting treasures, and letting my imagination run wild in the mountains. What a gift it was to grow up near the canyon in a family that took advantage of that!
I remember the lengths that mom would go to to make our experiences there fun. She always brought games and crafts if we ever got bored or exploring. She thought of everything. She was an expert camper. The meals were always delicious. Her kitchen was baffling. It seemed like she really did bring everything but the kitchen sink. It was impressive. I love that she was such a camper, and I remember that it made her think about being a pioneer. She would have been an excellent pioneer.
I remember always wanting to be tough for dad. He was tough, and (in my mind) expected the rest of us to be tough, too, especially in situations like camping. This means that I tried not to complain too much, I tried to help out where I could, I tried not to be too tired on a hike, etc. Although I may not have fooled him, I at least made efforts in the general direction of toughness.
I loved going camping with just dad and sometimes with one or two sibling. I actually only have vivid memories of one such occasion in Green Canyon near a cave with a tiny opening at the top. It was on that trip that dad taught me that peeing would actually help me be warm.
I can't finish this blog without mention of our annual hikes to the reflectors. I always looked forward to that hike! It was steep and treacherous, but awesome! None of my friends could say that they had stood on top of the reflectors! I was cool for having gone there, and for knowing the way all by myself: up, naturally. I love that mom and dad let us get on top of them. How dangerous! But we were so experienced (ahem) that our parent didn't doubt our skills.
Ahhh, good times. They really solidified my love for mountains, nature, family, camping, hiking, and the environment in general.