The smell of bacon and cedar in the morning. Coffee and bug spray. Dew on the skunk cabbage.
Smell can trigger memories almost as well as any photo.
My first memory of camping was at this very campground when I was 3 years old. My mom, dad, sister and I. Along with Grandma, Auntie and the whole clan.
I remember Grandma keeping my sister and I occupied in the truck in the pouring rain as everyone tried to get camp set up. Telling us stories of fairies and dwarves to the soundtrack of Dvorak.
Racing ‘Pooh sticks’ in the creek. The bear prints in our campsite we woke up to that seemed so terrifying at the time.
It’s no wonder this place has become my favorite place to take my own kids camping. It’s become an annual tradition with some of our best friends. I only hope that my children have such fond memories.
If nothing else they might remember it as the one week out of the year that mom didn’t look at her phone even once.