CAMPING BY THE BOISE RIVER IN THE BEAUTIFUL MOUNTAINS OF IDAHO

I used to love camping. I am trying to remember why.

Packing up a porta potty with its chemicals to take care of the stink, and a blow-up mattress, food and utensils, clothes, bedding, a borrowed tent, lots of drinking water and additional water for other things, the dog and his paraphernalia, and of course Doug and his motorcycle with all the gear needed, and going off to the mountains of Idaho (that Cory said were only 3 hours from his house) to camp sounds like an great adventure, right? We thought we were breaking the trip in half by going on Wednesday night to Pleasant View and staying at Cory's house and finishing the trip the next day. Except that it took us 9 hours to find Cory and company the next day and we had to hurry to get the tent set up before it got too dark to see (this scenario happens to be one that I remember when I was a child camping with my Dad and remember the stress it caused him to be pitching a tent in the dark!) so the adventure got off to not such a great start.

We worked through it and Doug calmed down with the realization that he was finally 'there' and about to have two full days to ride the 'best trails anywhere' with his son and grandsons. I was dredging up, from somewhere deep within, the memories of happy camping days as a child - when my parents did all the work and it was fun - and began anticipating the joy of spending time with Cory, Kara, Quinn, Dylan, and Trev.

From then on the camping trip truly was fun - except for the second night in the tent. For some reason I was just in turmoil and couldn't reconcile with the air mattress, the quilt, pillows, dog buried at my feet in the bottom of the sleeping bag, the cold air only being okay on my face and nowhere else, and worrying about the one bear that the ranger said they hadn't trapped yet that had been prowling the campground and area where we were. ANYHOO - I finally slept - some. The 2 days were pleasant and Cory and Kara and their friends did all the work and cooked and fed us. I mostly just read and sat by the river on the bank while the dog dug in the sand. I napped a little while each day. The boys rode their motorcycles and the 'young' boys played with their friends. The company of campers went to the hot pots each day and floated the river enjoying the 'diving rock' where they put in their tubes to start floating. It was a great camping place. The campfire (which Dylan built by himself the second night) remain one of the best things about camping. And, oh! of course - the s'mores - thanks Kara!

Watching the boys and their friends and their parents I was able to remember why I loved camping as a child, and even when I was a parent of young children.

And I was glad we went.