It's Called CAMPIN' (CAM-PUN)

That's right, not Camping -- we say "CAM-PUN" and CAMPIN' IS FUN! It is something I have done pretty much all my life.
First--- when I was a little girl, with my parents and brothers and sisters, then later, with my husband and our young family. Years later, we started going with our grandchildren and foster children, (more on that later) and now (at least for the most part) it is only me and my husband Wayne, who has now put up with me for 50-plus years!
Our kids have been grown now for many years, the foster children are gone and the grandchildren are well on the way to growing up! We even now, have our first great-grandchild, Little Abigail, who just had her very first birthday!
My earliest memories of camping consisted mostly of Daddy driving the big green Nash loaded with Mom and whichever kids were along, down to a local creek (usually within less than an hours drive from home. We thought Daddy was a super driver and I can remember standing (yes, that is what I said) behind his seat as my twin brother Keith and the rest of us hollering for him to drive "Faster, Daddy, Faster!!" (I don't know if he actualy was speeding, but he always played along! It was a game that was played more than once. After awhile, we would pull off of the main road and soon would be twisting down and around until we were right beside the water and under one of the many access bridges in the area of Southwest Missouri where we were raised. There he would park right on the rocky gravel-bar of whatever creek or river the adults had chosen for our newest adventure.
 I am not sure but I think it was, usually, only Mom and Daddy and the 4 of us younger kids. We were always grouped together, because we were close in age and everyone called us "the Little Kids". We also had 2 sisters and a brother that were several years our seniors, I think they were probably perfectly happy (possibly thrilled) to get us out of their hair for a day or two or more! Momma's mother, "Grandma Price" lived with us, so the job of keeping up with the older siblings was left up to her. Not sure if there was ever a time that all 10 of us actually camped together.
I don't remember exactly how many times we actually camped while I was young. Many times our family would go picnicking at the creek or in the woods, so some of those memories have become jumbled and I am not sure which are the "real camping" experiences and which were, perhaps, only day long picnics,"
To me it doesn't really matter, since in MY mind they were all wonderful experiences! Roaring River, Capp's Creek, Flat Creek, Sugar Creek and 43 Bridge, are only a few in my memory.
Although I may have fantastic memories, I have to wonder if my "Momma and Daddy" possible may have felt very differently.
Among my memories are a few of the following---
One time, Mom was cooking our supper on a campfire. It consisted of bacon, eggs and toast. but--- the problem was--- somehow in packing up "we had failed to bring all the necessities! NO PLATES to eat off of!" But we did not go hungry, we ate our supper that night off of the "torn up" cartons and boxes" that the food was packed in! Mom told me in later life that it seemed we NEVER made a trip without FORGETTING something that seemed, at the time, to be important!
On another trip, we just gotten settled into our make-shift camp. (Because we had no tent, Daddy had set up a shelter with an old tarp and saplings. Unfortunately, just about the time Mom and Dad were all ready to relax for the evening and enjoy watching the stars and campfire, we little children started complaining of "Itching!" It did not take very long before it became painfully obvious that we had set up our bedding right in the MIDDLE of a nest of SEED TICKS! Needless to say, things were packed up as quickly as possible and we were packed, once more into the "Old Nash!" Once we got back to our little stone house in the country we were lined up and systematically "De-ticked! I will never forget standing naked while my tired little body was searched from "the top of my head, to the bottom of my feet!"
Then there was yet another trip when a family friend had offered to let  Dad use his outboard motor and "I think Daddy then rented a flat bottom canoe". Anyway, we had a wonderful afternoon flying up and down the "Brand new Table Rock Lake." That is, until my youngest brother who was about 6 got so badly sunburned that another trip was brought to an end!
Now, most people would think after all that, it would be the end of camping for our family!
"NOT!"
The year I turned 8 (I think), we got to go on a "real vacation." This time it would be several days and we would be going to several different places!
After everything was readied, we headed out once again.
That trip included following the wild and scenic river-ways of Southern Missouri, where wonderful natural springs gush and bubble up out of the sheer rocky hillsides.
"Big Spring State Park (on the Black River, close to VanBuren, Missouri), has an amazing  water-flow of approximately 276,000,000 (yes Million) gallons of water a DAY!
We spent at least one night at  a brand new park called Johnson Shut-ins! It was and is a FAVORITE memory. Huge volcanic rock formations form a natural water-park, with the clear cold river splashing in and out of the shut-in valley. The park had only recently been opened and did not have water, electricity or even toilets built yet, but, oh my the huge rocks and ice-cold water was absolutely the most wonderful thing a small child could imagine!
It is kind of hard to describe. It was and is, different than any other creek or river I have ever visited. Not deep, the water runs and splashes between huge rocks, some as smooth and slick as a park sliding board. It made many personal pools to sit in and feel the chilling water flow over your body and some of the rocks had been worn so smooth you could (carefully) climb to the top and slide into the pool below!
I only remember going to the "Shut In's" that one time, although others in the family went back numerous times, Never-the-less, it was permanently etched into my young mind. Many years later while traveling, I saw a picture that had been taken there and I immediately recognized it! My husband could not believe that I recognized a picture of a place that I had only been to once when I was no more than 5 or 6 years old!
You know I can still remember the smell of Fried Chicken that Momma had made before leaving home. There is nothing better on a hot day, than tea, after it has been brewed in a gallon jug, iced and carefully wrapped in newspaper and towels to keep at its coldest until we made our destination.
 Or, have you ever eaten a watermelon (not the little puny ones they sell you these days), but one that is huge and bright red and sweet after it has been siting in the cold creek water all afternoon.
We spent our days chasing bunnies, we shivered and shook as we tried our best to catch crawdads, chased tadpoles and minnows and we skipped flat stones across the glittering ripples of water.
At night we roasted marshmallows over the campfire and cracked pieces of flint-stone against each other to make sparks. We caught fireflies and June-bugs and listened to Daddy and  Momma as they sang old. sad songs to us. (Favorites were Daddy singing "The Old Number Nine" and Momma singing "As I wandered 'Round the Homestead"
Finally, our little bodies were so worn out that we happily got washed up and then curled into our warm blankets for the night. It didn't take long before the song of the Whip-o-will and river night sounds would lull us to sleep.
I would wake in the very early morning to the sound of Daddy and the boys, getting ready to  go out on the river for a couple of hours of fishing. I still feel the morning mist on my face and can easily imagine smelling the campfire and the coffee perking!