by Sharon Falsetto

Created on: September 18, 2008   Last Updated: November 18, 2011

Camping, in the real sense of the word, is relatively new to me; growing up in England, our vacations consisted of a week or two 'caravaning' usually in the pouring rain. So when my husband suggested camping, as in a tent, I enthusiastically agreed; after all, now living in Arizona, the rain was a distant memory. However, I do think that was back in the early stages of our relationship, so not a lot of real thought went into it on my part..

So, the summer after this momentous decision, the tent and provisions were thrown in the back of the truck and we drove half an hour from home. Memories of those rain-sodden trips of England were far, far away! We arrived, threw up the tent in half an hour - and away we went. Or not, as the case was...

Cooking in the great outdoors was something I had been looking forward to, being a rare treat in England. Steak and BBQ at the ready except fire restrictions had come into place the day before we arrived ; no campfire cooking then. And no campfire stories. At least, not on this trip....

The next trip was a bit of a wash out weather wise (despite my new found optimism of the Arizona climate) and we came home early. Moving on... The following summer we decided to get a bit more adventurous and planned an expedition to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. I say expedition, as by now we had progressed to larger tent and more accessories meaning planning and packing took a little longer than our first carefree trip.

The truck packed to bursting point we began our five hour drive. It was a bit of a windy day and we were on the open road, speeding along, when......there goes my pillow! And the air mattress too! (the word basic camping is not in my vocabulary). The brakes slammed on and the pillow was chased down, tumbling up the road, although its cover was lost forever to desert wilderness, as it disappeared over the horizon somewhere. The air mattress was retrieved, although not without damage. The next few nights were spent in an inventive game called 'spot where the next hole in the air mattress is?' to avoid ending up sleeping on the ground by morning. No one ever did win that one...

Camping at the Grand Canyon brings in a strange array of people. There's those who think pulling up in a multi-million dollar RV bigger than our house qualifies as camping, and then there's those who will make the most basic 'home away from home' their pride and joy. Our neighbors on this particular trip provided me with more entertainment than the

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