At Issue
From the pen of Robert L. Cook
Some people believe the best way to learn about the outdoors is to go hunting, or fishing or birding. I think camping with children is perhaps the best of all.
It had been a long time since I’d been on an old fashioned Texas campout,you know, where you go out into the woods and stay a night or two, just for the heck of it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in lots of good camps, camps like the one on Turkey Creek just above Beaver Canyon when it snowed us in. That was a good camp, one you never forget. Or like the camp on Blue Ridge where Donnie, Fox and I drew straws to see which of us would go in for the 41-inch mule deer that we had located. Now I’m glad that Donnie won. That was a great camp, but that is another story, for another day.
I’m not talking about camps that are occupied by a bunch of grown-ups who have all the right gear, like heavy duty wall tents, water-proof compasses and camouflage pillow cases. I’m talking about a campout where the essential ingredients are at least two kids, maybe more. I’m talking about a camp from which a Texas snipe hunt can originate.
The necessities for a Texas campout are wieners and “S’mores”; no black coffee, no steaks to grill, no tobacco and, for heaven’s sake, none of this “We’re-going-to-eat-what-we-catch” malarkey. The primary drink on a campout is soda pop, or as we used to say, bellywash. If you’re going on a campout, you’ve got to use campout terminology.
About a year ago, I decided it was time for a campout. My fellow campers, Morgan, age 7, and Emilee, age 4, had their sleep-over bags, and their mom (my daughter) had recently acquired a new summer tent with lots of flaps and windows. It only took about two pick-up loads of gear for the planned one-nighter, and I’m proud to report that four adults had that tent up in only about 31⁄2 hours. Meanwhile, the girls had discovered that there was no plumbing, indoor or outdoor. That raised lots of questions. We built the fire inside the ring of rocks, and broke out the grub as night approached.
We roasted those wieners on green sticks until they were crispy black, and they still tasted great. We agreed that “S’mores” were best when you let the marshmallows flame up just a little. We called the “hoot-owls” and one sailed silently past our flickering fire into the dark. We spotted the Big Dipper and located the North Star. When the coyotes howled, the two little campers scooted closer to my side. After the fire died down, we took a turn telling scary stories; then we were off to our sleeping bags for a full night of “What’s that noise, Peepaw?” and “Mom, did you hear that?” and “This ground is hard.”
The girls made the night almost without incident, not counting the ants that got in their dad’s pants, and without much sleep. Just before daybreak, the last norther of the year blew in, tore down the tent, spat a little rain, and sent us scurrying with laughter to the old pick-up. It was great; one of the best campouts I’ve ever been on.
Some believe that the best way to learn about conservation and the outdoors is to go hunting, or fishing, or mountain climbing or birding. I think that maybe going on a campout with kids, is the best of all. Kids ask lots of questions. They make you really think about “Why?”
It’s springtime in Texas; time for a campout with the kids. Our state parks, to which our May issue is dedicated, are perfect for a campout. It is a wonderful way for them, and you, to learn to love and appreciate the great outdoors of Texas, and each other.