March is winding down and April is set to debut, hopefully in a cacophony of colorful blooms and dazzling sunshine. We need it. This winter seems to be lingering, with unseasonably cold temperatures and precipitation over and above what the weather people term, Average. And frankly, I can’t wait. My feet are itching!
No, I don’t have a fungal infection (ewwww!). I have twitchy toes eager to be off on the next adventure. The spasms set in about the time Hubs hauled the pajamas off the RV. Fortunately, the remedy is right around the corner, as we’re about to set off with friends on our first camping trip of the season. It might be chilly, and wet, but it won’t dampen our enthusiasm for roasting wieners, and toasting marshmallows, over an open fire, and sipping _special_ coffees while we set up dominoes for our umpteenth game.
We didn’t do a lot of camping when I was young, but when we did, I loved it. The big old orange tent, Dad pumping the primer on the Coleman stove, or dropping chunks of white starter into the charcoal grill, to sizzle up some steak or chicken; Mom washing breakfast or supper dishes in a plastic tub, or shuffling cards for another round of solitaire or Peanuts. I have fond memories of those family trips to Kalamalka Lake near Vernon, BC. The last camping trip I recall being on as a child with either of my parents, was the year I turned twelve, and Dad took my brother, my friend, and I on a fishing trip to Hudson Hope, BC. That was a hoot.
We caught over eighty fish in four days between the four of us, all reeled in from the empty-bleach-bottle-stabilized canoe Dad had roped to the top of the small 4X4 pickup we drove up in (us kids had to take turns riding in the canopied truck bed he’d set up as sleeping quarters, because the truck’s “extra” cab (additional 16″ of space) only had two bucket seats, and one sideways faced jump seat (of course this was all before seatbelt laws, etc. were strengthened and enforced)). Despite the mosquitoes, and looooooong drive to get there and back—not to mention Dad’s teasing threat to make us eat “smarten up pills” (moose droppings), if we didn’t smarten up—it remains a favorite memory, if not a place I’m in a hurry to return to.
Where I am eager to return to, is one of my favorite camping spots, in historic Burton, BC, on the Arrow Lake off Highway 6, between Nakusp and Faquier, BC.
Photo copyright D. Anderson 2016
My husband introduced me to this beautiful place early in our marriage. It was one of his family’s favorite spots to camp when he was a child. And we’re carrying on the tradition with our entire family this year.
It’s so rare when we get all of us together—Hubs, I, our four kids and their respective spouses, and (currently) one grandchild—owing to conflicting work, and other family, obligations, especially around official Holidays, so Hubs and I intend for this to be our first annual Full Family Camping Trip, a tradition we hope to enjoy for many, many, more years to come.
What about you, do you have a favorite destination spot, or family tradition that keeps you grounded, brings joy and contentment to your life? Please share. I’d love to hear about it.
Deborah
Happiness, that grand mistress of the ceremonies in the dance of life, impels us through all its mazes and meanderings, but leads none of us by the same route. ~Charles Caleb Colton
