The big deer hunt...and other great adventures

From the time I was a little girl I have loved camping. I love camping in a tent. I love sleeping in the comfort of a trailer, I love sleeping out under the stars. I love camping out in the backyard. I love camping!

Some of my most treasured memories are of the yearly deer hunt with my dad's family, and camping out with all my cousins. This has been a tradition since long before I was born, for as long as my dad can remember, and continues even now. At the heart of this adventure is my grandma, Uncle Denzel (her brother), and Aunt LaRene (her sister-in-law). They are all in their 80s and still going strong. My sincere hope is that my generation, and those to come will never let this tradition die.

I remember how neat I thought I was because my older cousin Holly wanted to spend time with me. We would walk down to the creek, make play houses in the trees, and sing some song about the "queen of hearts". I could hardly wait until I was old enough to sleep on the top bunk, and it was a real treat if I got a chance to ride one of the horses. I had a crush on my cousin Mike. We ran the "Dove Creek Mile". We even got to take a day or two off of school, everybody went, and we never went home empty handed. We played "kick the can", and "no bears are out tonight", and told ghost stories and hunting stories from years past around the campfire. We locked people in the outhouse, and took bumpy rides in the back of Grandpa Charlie's old green Chevy truck. I will always remember Grandma LaRaine (Boosa) saying, "put it in combine Chuck!", as we attempted to follow all the 4-wheel drive vehicles up a steep hill. Uncle Paul would dutch oven mutton over a fire built with sage brush, and we would play cards all night with Aunt LaRene. I can now rank myself right along with the best brushers in the world (slight exaggeration...maybe) because of these yearly excursions.

Later, my parents bought a trailer and we spent our summers camping with The Hurd family. Sunrise campground at Bear Lake, Jackson Hole, Star Valley Ranch, and the one I will never forget....the trip to the Oregon coast. Countless times we would ask "Are we there yet?", and for two days my dad would answer, "just around the next curve in the road". Meanwhile, the old brown and cream Suburban (lovingly named "the beast") would sputter and smoke, and barely make it to the next town. There was never a dull moment, or peace of mind with "the beast".

I remember the pancakes that were perfectly browned on the outside and runny in the middle, Dave's contagious laugh, Allison flirting with all the boys (thanks Allison, I learned a lot), Karla and my mom with the same hot-rollers in their hair, Jordan and Brian entertaining us with songs around the campfire ("La Bamba" will always bring a smile to my face), and Craig and I getting lost and paddling up-stream on the snake river (still my dad's fault....bad directions!). Treasured times with those I love most.

Sadly, I married a man that doesn't love camping. Who has time for camping anyway when you are in med school, and later belong to the hospital? I blame his dislike on the fact that he can only sleep under the most perfect of conditions. I really think it might be genetic, because most of his family seems to suffer from the same problem.

I am convinced that once Eric truly experiences my kind of camping he will never turn back. I can't wait to begin making such treasured memories with our own little family.

So when I got the opportunity to go on an overnight camp out with the young women, I couldn't wait to pass my love of camping on to RoWan.

She loved every minute.....That's my girl!!