I loved camping when I was a kid. It seemed like a free easy way to live and nobody cared if you were covered in dirt and smelled like a campfire. I never remember packing. I don't recall any sleepless nights. I don't recall unpacking either. I do however remember roasting marshmallows and staying up late telling spooky stories. In fact, I sometimes wondered why all children didn't run away and live in the woods.
Friday after packing for half a day, we left with the Donovan's for Mt. Charleston, about an hour north of Las Vegas. We arrived early enough to get a camping site at Old Mill picnic area. It was chilly and I was thinking about why I packed everything I did but left my jacket at home. I guess when you are constantly sweating you forget that there are places in the world that are cold. Well, my jacket was not the only thing I forgot. The chocolate bars for smores were sitting in the freezer at home and the oil and spatula for the pancakes were sitting in the cupboard. I actually didn't even think of those things until were cooking.
But there were plenty of things that were just as good as I remember. The tinfoil dinners were delicious. The marshmallows were yummy, especially melted on the peach cobbler. The fire Brian built was warm and smokey as any fire I recall. And the stars... well, I am glad I remembered to look up because I almost forgot there were stars in Nevada.
Camping with the family was not quite like I remembered but even without smores or sleep, it was still fun!