I was taking a ferry to Isle Royale National Park, just sitting on this long wooden bench and observing everyone else around me.
There were all kinds of people—singles, couples, families. I noticed a few kids trailing behind their parents, making sure everything was organized and everyone was moving at the right pace.
None of us were glued to our phones. When we went on a trip, we were fully present; we were together, wherever that happened to be.
We were more casual campers—not as extreme as those who venture deep into the backcountry and hike many miles to set up camp. But we were inexperienced enough for our parents to go easy on us, opting for a simple tent over an RV or any sort of electrical comforts.
Our version of camping
Over time, our parents relaxed their approach. Now, in their retirement, they have a tiny camper trailer they often apologize for, saying they “spent their time” in it. They’ve accepted that it’s okay to make things easier.
I remember one summer, back in middle school, we journeyed to Maine. We camped all the way from Western Michigan to Acadia National Park. Recently, I watched an old family video from that trip. I could see us struggling in the rain in New Hampshire. It was tough. The footage brought back a flood of memories—my brother and I were obsessed with skateboarding and nearly got into accidents every other day.
A day with our dog
My parents worried about potentially wasting a day and some cash finding a vet up there. But suddenly, she got back on her feet and was full of energy. For years after, we joked about whether she was “playing it up” on our trips.
I was really into music back then and brought my trumpet. I would practice, sometimes quietly with mutes, sometimes not bothering. If it bothered my parents, they never let on—they were always encouraging, even if we didn’t have the best vehicle for trips.
Epic road trip
After my sophomore year in college, we embarked on the biggest trip we ever took. We camped our way to California, hitting places like Yosemite, Zion, and the Grand Canyon. I recently came across footage of that journey. My dad was filming while my mom and sister chatted nearby, and my brother and I were just being silly on the beach south of San Francisco.
My parents camped because they were budget-conscious. They did enjoy it, but I knew that the affordability factor was key in choosing to hike cross-country in tents.
Fast food was rare on those trips—if we stopped, it felt like a special occasion. Instead, I often made sandwiches with cold cuts from our cooler, which was typically half filled with ice and water. I remember sitting outside a rest area with a sandwich, a bag of slightly crushed potato chips, and a cup of water from a fountain.
Some trips saw my brother and I in a small tent, while my parents and sister took up a larger one. Other times, we all shared one big tent. I recall those nights lying there, joking with each other while bundled in our sleeping bags, my parents on one side and the kids on the other.
Living in the moment
There were no cell phones for any of us. When we traveled, we were immersed in the experience; our focus was solely on each other. We were crammed in cars, sleeping outdoors, weathering storms, cooling off from the sweltering heat of Zion National Park in July, huddled around a morning fire in the freezing conditions at Rocky Mountain National Park.
Some of my strongest childhood memories stem from those camping adventures. We didn’t go to flashy destinations like Disney World; back then, I often questioned why we camped instead of visiting theme parks. But now, I realize how special those times were. It’s been a while since I’ve camped.
Now as a dad, I truly grasp how demanding those trips were and how vital they were for our family. Picture three energetic kids exploring the country in tents, soaking in all the sights together. Our parents must have had a deep love for us to share those experiences.
