Grandkids and Campin'

I took three of my Grandsons camping for four days in an area state park. We weren't roughing it in the "sleeping on the ground under the stars" sense. No, we slept in my 30 foot camper and ran the air conditioner at night. I know that some folks wouldn't call this camping.

I have camped out in the elements with nothing more than a pine branch lean-to ( or less) over my head at night . I have caught fish or killed small game for food . My drink was water from running streams. I have roughed it plenty, and one day I would like to camp that way again, and with my grandsons . But this hastily planned trip was better suited for park camping.
Siloam Springs State Park is very heavily wooded. Maple, hickory, oak, pine and other trees line the roads like a sentinel that watches the coming and going of campers and visitors. In the autumn this park is ablaze with every color imaginable, and the view fills your visual senses with pleasure. Creeks meander through the valleys, and deep draws lead to an opening where the springs, that gave the park its name, used to be. While springs still seep from the bottom of the hillsides, the old spring houses, where folks used to come for a healing bath, are gone. One  pretty spring house was restored  and fits snugly into a shady hillside. The spring-fed creeks kept the youngest grandsons occupied for hours wading in the cold waters, finding frogs and building dams.

One of our favorite spots to camp at this park is one site that is bordered by deep woods on two sides. Fortunately, we were able to secure this spot again. The first order of business was to ready the camp, and that means building a fire. Even on a warm June day a campfire is a must. The smell of wood smoke is what makes a camp…a camp. This particular camp spot is very eye appealing.

The early morning sun turned the tops of the nearby pines a golden hue. The sun through the day is filtered through a myriad of leaves and branches. As the breeze moves the branches, the trees throw the sparkling sunrays like shiny spears to the forest floor below. The evening sun glows orange as it melts into the horizon, lighting the various tree trunks with its sinking. At night we sat out under the crystal clear canopy of stars, and watched the many woodland animals skirt the camp.

Raccoons that have little fear of folks came up to the camp looking for a handout. They fed on food leftovers thrown at the edge of the woods, and after we would finally head inside, they would mount the picnic table in search of any tiny morsel we might have left behind. The deer were more shy, but would pass close by and stare at us a bit. At this time of year it was not unusual to see does with their spotted fawns tagging along close by. An occasional opossum would waddle up to camp then leave empty handed, due to the careful scavenging of the coons.

We ate well at camp. Everything was cooked over firewood on an open grill. We cooked a breakfast each day of biscuits, eggs, and sausage or corned beef hash. Suppers were hamburgers or brats, potatoes and beans. One night, daughter Melissa and Grandmom drove the 60 miles to bring ribeye steaks for the grill. Smores or brownies ( lovingly prepared ahead of time by Grandmom) for desert. We ate at the picnic table out in the open. There's something about open air meals that fosters a voracious appetite.

 We went fishing everyday and caught fish each trip. We practiced catch and release on this trip. The park has a 48 acre lake that provides excellent trout, bass and bluegill fishing. Late in the evening, the sun would set beautifully over the water. The reflected sunlight caused an explosion of sparkles on the ripples, looking much like a thousand flashbulbs lighting a gala event.

Cranes flew overhead or stood stoically on the banks. They would occasionally turn their heads on their long necks to look at us, as if to ask "Y'all doing any good over there?" Several ponds in the park also provided great fishing. All the boys caught fish. Some of the fish were huge. After admiring the fish we released them. One dry bed produced huge bass that my boys caught, then carried to the main lake and released.With the continuing drought, the fish would have likely died as the pond withered away.

So, while we were not trekking the continental divide, or hiking the Appalachian Trail, we did spend four activity filled days in the outdoors. When time came to break camp, it was not done with as a much enthusiasm as setting up the camp. We all could have stayed days longer.
We had laughed and talked around the fire. We had praised each others fishing skills. We had marvelled at the woodland creatures.We breathed the clean fresh oxygen of the forests. We felt free. And, most of all, we enjoyed each others company in a wonderful outdoor setting.

My grandsons and I love getting closer to nature, and we enjoy the experience of just being together. Outside.
And to me,.... yeah, that’s camping.