it all started with a canvas WWII army tent.

Camping is in my genes. We called my dad's parents 'Camping Grandma and Grandpa', which I didn't realize was weird until I was an adult, but it's how my siblings and I refer to them to this day. Our early camping trips were an extended family affair, with my immediate family in green heavy canvas army tent my grandpa schlepped back with him from the Philippines (or that's what I remember. In retrospect, I doubt it's true). My memories go to my mom in faded bell bottoms with a bandana around her hair making breakfast on a camp stove, my toddler brother with a filthy face after crawling around in the dirt, my sister and I in pigtails, equally filthy.

My parents eventually bought a second (or third, or fourth) hand smelly tow-behind trailer which we had for a short time, then moved onto The Superior, a very unique, used, Class A motorhome that traversed the west coast of the US and Canada, and made a number of gambling trips to Nevada. (We always begged for Circus Circus). In 1986 they threw caution to the wind, mortgaged life, and bought a brand new 1986 36ft Pace Arrow motorhome. In 1987 we spent a full month traveling from the west coast to the east coast, and back again. It was simultaneously the most memorable trip full of history and wonder, and the most boring month of my young life.

Fast forward a few years, I got married, we moved to Colorado, and had a few kids. Once again, we started with a tent (a much nicer one from REI this time) and eventually borrowed Tony and Dorothy's 5th wheel for a family trip to the Northern California coast. They talked us into taking it back to Colorado with us due to dad's health issues, and we began exploring Colorado via RV parks and campgrounds.

We have since upgraded a few times, settling on a ridiculously long 42ft Montana that accommodates our family of 5, along with friends and family members who join our adventures, though we're considering downsizing again. But, it also doubles as a very nice guest house since we have a little bit of property so we'll see.

My happy place is a State Park campground with tons of trees, dirt spots, rickety, splinter-y picnic tables, rudimentary fire pits, and some sort of lake or water nearby. My husband's happy place is an RV Resort with a lazy river, concrete pads, Adirondack chairs artfully placed by a lovely firepit, and 50amp. So, we run the gamut.

In full disclosure, I am no longer allowed to book our campsites without proper supervision.

The 1973 Dodge Superior. Fancy!

The 1986 Pace Arrow. Luxury!