My oldest is getting married in one week. She is marrying a Marine, and
they will be living halfway across the country. My second daughter is
already halfway across the country, having chosen a school on the east
coast, and finding summer work opportunities for college students
better out there.

We went out there in August to meet her new boyfriend and to seize what
could be the last opportunity for us to camp together as a family. Now
that trip is over, and I was going through the pictures when I decided
I had to tell the story.

PJay and I had both been exposed to camping as kids. For me, it was
tents, my uncle's pop-up, and boy scouts. My brother and I often
"camped" in the back yard when we got the opportunity. For PJay, it was
canoe trips, cabins, and a three week trip across the country in a
small motorhome. So camping as a family was a foregone conclusion.

For a long time, we tent camped, staying in several different, ever
larger, tents as need or opportunity arose. Our range was mostly
limited to what we could drive in a day (sometimes 2), but there was a
variety.

A favorite destination of mine was Acadia National Park. It has it all
- the ocean, the wildlife, the mountains, the forests, lakes, history,
and food. Nothing like a Maine lobster in Bar Harbour, Maine! I've been
there at least six times, and wouldn't hesitate to return if the
opportunity came up.

The White Mountains of New Hampshire were the first place we camped as
a married couple. There were many such trips. There is no view that can
compare with looking out over the Presidential range from the top of
Mount Washington on a crystal clear day (clear days are rare there).
Nor is there any comparison to taking a dip in the icy waters of
Dianah's Bath after a long hot hike. On that first trip, only a few
weeks into our marriage, I slipped on the wet rocks and fell in to a
pothole about 8 feet deep, filled with icy water. After pulling myself
out, I discovered that my brand new wedding band was gone. I was sick,
PJay was furious. We both got over it, the band was replaced, but it is
an incident I will never forget.

The White Mountains was also the first place our oldest camped. She was
less than six months old, and we had a bargain opportunity come our
way. We had a little warm sleeping bag and a little air mattress for
her. It had sides so she wouldn't roll off onto the cold hard ground.
Cold was right. We tucked her in, and I think we wrapped her in an
extra blanket or two, but she didn't stay that way. She kept crawling
out of her sleeping bag. We took turns bringing this little ice cube
that was our daughter into our sleeping bags to warm her up, then tuck
her neatly back into her sleeping bag. Two hours later, the whole
process repeated. She slept through it all. Kids adapt to camping
better than parents adapt to kids camping with them.

We took the kids there several times, and on one or two occasions, went
there with friends. We watched fireworks from the top of Cathedral
Ledge, and on another trip watched them from the lawn of the Mount
Washigton Hotel. There is a little restaurant outside of North Conway
that serves a great steak.

To live in Massaachusetts and not visit Cape Cod is a sin. We went
camping "down the Cape" two or three times, visiting the long sand
beaches, eating the best clamrolls on the continent, and taking in the
quaint village centers. Tent camping on Cape Cod is difficult. There
are fewer and fewer campgrounds, and the sand does very poorly at
holding tent stakes in. It was there, at less than one year old, that
my second daughter had a ruptured hernia that threatened to end the
trip. On the same trip, a brake line failed in the car and almost ended
the trip. I vowed to never return, and have not (exept to visit my
sister, who lives down there, but never camping). I fear the loss is
mine.

We went to Prince Edward Island when the girls were still small. It was
one of our best trips. We visited Green Gables, marvelled at the scale
reproductions of Woodleigh (if you go to PEI, don't miss that), and
went on a horse-drawn carriage ride to the bluffs. The sand beaches are
white, and at the singing sands beach, the sand really does sing as you
walk in it. On the return trip, we spent a few days in New Brunswick.
One night, we awoke to the most intense thunderstorm I have ever seen
in my life. Lightening striking ten or more times a second (I am not
exaggerating when I say you could literally have read by it), and the
thunder to match. The girls, about three and five, had their own little
tent. We expected them to awake in a panic, but they slept through the
whole thing.

Our first camping trip to Vermont was the trip that I could have
wrecked. I was going through a difficult time, and it tended to make me
short tempered (a serious understatement). We had arived at the
campground and were told we had to use the "overflow" section across
the road. Disappointed, we accepted. It proved to be a mistake to be
disappointed, though. It was a wonderful site, less than 100 feet from
the Falls of Llana, a spectacular waterfall. But the weather was
threatening. PJay and I had the kids wait in the car while we raced to
set up a tarp over the picnic table. The plan was to set up the tent
from a dry spot. We didn't make it. It started pouring. Being the hero,
I made sure PJay could stay dry under the tarp while I got soaked. I
didn't care for getting rained on. I was about to blow my cool when I
realized -for the first time- that I didn't have to. PJay saw the
change, and started in with "singing in the rain." I told her she was
about to blow it. The rest of the week (except one brief thunderstorm)
was great. I rememer picking up the sweetest sweet corn from a roadside
stand, and visiting one of the last drive-up A&W's in New England.

We went to Gettysburg twice, and spent some time, as President Lincoln
said, remembering what they did there. I struggle to put meaningful
words to the visit, but there are no words adequate to describe the
biggest and bloodiest battle ever fought in the Western Hemisphere.
While in the area, we took some time to visit the Amish country of
Lancaster, which is where we were just a few weeks ago. Lancaster is
famous for it's shmorgasboards(sp), and you will not go away hungry.
Try the shoo fly pie for desert.

Virginia was another place we visitied repeatedly. (Though not always
camping, and not always with the kids. PJay and I honeymooned there and
returned for our 10th and 15th anniversaries. After all, Virginia is
for lovers!) We camped twice near Williamsburg, and once in
Chincoteague. We also camped in Virginia when we visited Washington,
D.C. I believe all Americans should visit that city. I can't say that
about any other city I've been in. Every city has reasons to visit, but
only Washington can claim that it influences the lives of all
Americans.

Chincoteague is the place many children read about in "Misty of
Chincoteague." We were there for the return swimming of the horses
once, and have seen the wild horses relatively close up. It's also a
great place to get crabs. Mmmm. If you are into museums or space
exploration, visit Wallops Island, the U.S.'s first space port. Before
the Kennedy Space Center, we launched unmanned missions from Wallops
Island. Last I knew, it was still in use.

After many years, we returned to Prince Edward Island. It was one of
our few return trips. On that trip, my oldest took a jump from the
footbridge at Singing Sands. She was the only one brave enough to do
it. We were introduced to cultured mussels, and have never found them
as good as they were there. Once again, we spent some time in New
Brunswick on the return trip. While there, we took a dusk hike with a
naturalist. At the end of the hike, in total darkness, we waited while
a moose made it's way through the woods. Only the noise of the
creature's movements gave us a clue as to it's size. After about a half
hour of standing together in total silence, we heard the animal cross
the boardwalk we were standing on and move off through the swamp. Not
one of us saw it in the starlight.

It was on the drive home that I first suggested to PJay going on what
we now call the "long trip." The kids were getting older, and in a few
years would be heading off to college. Soon, the chance to do something
really spectacular with the kids would pass. By the time the 7-8 hour
drive was done, we had decided to dedicate the entire summer of 2000 to
travelling across the country. Although logisitics (especially money)
ended up delaying the trip by a year, what started on that drive became
a reality two years later.

Early on, we assumed we were going to tent camp. But the idea of a
pop-up came into my head, and eventually we ended up with one big
pop-up, a Coleman Bayside. Of course, it called for something better to
tow with than a 1990 Plymouth Voyager on it's third transmission, so we
ended up with an Astro.

Our first trip in that new pop-up was to a reunion in Rhode Island. We
parking-lot camped for a night or two, next to a huge class A.

Our real shakedown was back to the southern part of the White
Mountains. Might I suggest, New Hampshire is the place for Northern
Comfort (a.k.a. pure Maple Syrup). It's at it's best on pancakes, but
it's great with sausage links as well.

Before closing down the season, we took a long weekend at Lake George,
New York. Nearby is Saratoga, where the first major American victory of
the Revolution took place. We had supper in a small roadside restaurant
that was not near the hurry of the interstate. I don't remember the
food. What I do remember is joking with the busboy, only to find out he
was the owner. He told the kids he'd discount their food if they bussed
their own table. Imagine his surprise when (just to continue the joke)
they showed up in the kitchen with their empty plates! True to his
word, he gave them each a few dollars. We let them keep it, but then
added that amount to the tip.

Much of the long trip has been described elsewhere, so I won't go over
that all again. But we visitied a lot of places. We sipped sweet tea in
Arkansas. We downed Navaho Tacos in Arizona. We had some of the finest
wines in Anaheim, California. We had a great meal and fun conversation
with the restaurant owner outside Sequoia NP. His restaurant was
perched on the side of a hill, overlooking a beautiful valley full of
orange groves and grape vines. In the Tetons, we rode horseback to a
pavillion where they serve breakfast. The breakfast was good, but the
important thing was the scenery and the wildlife. I believe the Tetons
to be among the most spectacular mountains in the world. We chewed on
buffalo jerkey in Montana. I'm only scratching the surface. In 8 weeks,
we camped in more than 15 states and visited 19 National Parks. We
drove over 13,000 miles, towing the pop-up about 10,000 of those miles.
We live in a grand country, and I am so glad we went when we had the
opportunity.

Just a few weeks after returning, our second daughter and a friend went
to a concert in Boston. She had our permission to go because of the
transportation that they had worked out. They didn't tell the whole
truth, though, and they were meeting their ride in a different part of
town. What no one could have known is that in the hotel on the corner
where they waited, nine men were drinking and carying on with
prostitutes because they knew they were going to die. The next day was
September 11, 2001.

The next summer, we went to the first ever Pop-Up Times rally in
Townsend, Tennessee! We stopped in Mammoth Cave NP with GeeMan, the guy
who posts the Monday Night IRC Chat reminders. People were shocked that
we were meeting someone we had met on-line. They were astonished when
they learned we were meeting more than 100 at the rally!

It was at the rally that I learned just how deeply the long trip had
affected us. In one of the visitor's centers for Smoky Mountain
National Park, they had set up a gallery with some truly spectacular
panoramic photos of various national parks. We had been to many of
them. I found myself fighting tears as I remembered seeing those
sights, some from the long trip, others from other trips. Acadia, the
Everglades, Crater Lake, the Grand Canyon, and several more. At about
the same moment, we all realized that we were all fighting the tears.
We gave in, and had a big cry together, remembering what a big thing we
did and a great time we had together on that trip.

Most of our trips have been fairly small since then. Until recently, I
didn't get paid vacation time, so we would stick to shorter trips and
4-day weekends.

Two years ago, we moved from the Boston area to Minnesota. Minnesota
had no special draw to me, but I had sugested PJay finish her degree,
and the school she chose was Bethel University in suburban St. Paul.
The decision was literally earth-shattering. I had never lived outside
the town I was born in, and never lived more than 3 miles from where I
grew up. My family had always lived in New England. On my father's
side, no one had lived more then 30 miles from where my English
ancestor settled for sixteen generations!

On the day we signed to sell our house, the Old Man of the Mountains, a
landmark in New Hampshire dating back to the glaciers, came crashing
down. (I told you it was literally earth-shattering!)

That camper was about to do great service again. Our house sold, and we
headed out to Minnesota, but the new house wasn't going to be ready for
a while. We lived in the pop-up for six weeks.

Since then, the pop-up has only been on two camping trips. We use it,
but it's been just a guest house on wheels. Sometimes we were the
guests. Like the time we hauled it back to New York and set it up in
Aunt Dot's back yard so we could attend a funeral.

But now, we are prepairing to send our oldest off with her chosen man.
They both enjoy camping, and have already purchased a small tent. It
will be fine for the two of them, and they can get a biger tent when
they need it.

As for PJay and I, we are still debating the next move. I would like to
move to a smaller pop-up, she's thinking of a small class C. What we
both know is that our grandchildren are likely to end up scattered all
across the country. It may be that the only way they meet their cousins
is if we arrange it. Oh, there will be Thanksgivings and Christmases,
but how about spending a week with Grandma and Grandpa and cousin
Tommy? I'm hoping, anyway.

After nearly 22 years, I can say with authority that camping is a great
way to raise a family. It gives roots, and it spreads wings.

Austin