I grew up camping. I loved camping. It all started when my grandparents bought a travel trailer and a tent. They made plans with my parents at various times during the summers to go camping together. I’m from Michigan, USA originally, and in that state there are campgrounds everywhere. The coastal line along the Great Lakes provided many many campgrounds, which we frequented, and the inland lakes provided the same.
My favorite campground was at Lake Charlevoix up near Petoskey, Michigan. That would be the northwest part of the state along the coast of Lake Michigan. The emerald green and sometimes turquoise color of the water was breathtaking. While there, we went to the beach and looked for Petoskey stones (hence the name of the city). Other activities we did were fishing, swimming, hiking, riding bikes, exploring, and other kinds of interesting activities kids love to do. Eventually, our cousins went with us, which made the experience all that more fun.
Now that I am older, I don’t want to camp. The reason for that feeling has nothing to do with anything negative from my childhood experience of it, though. I have those cherished memories tucked in my heart. I guess I outgrew it and am on to other things now.
WRITE TIME AND AGAIN 