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When it comes to camping, whether it's RVs or tent-camping, deciding which will provide the greatest experience is a matter of personal choice and circumstances. However, if you've never experienced either and need advice, I can help you out there because I have experienced the best and worst of both.

My story:

The very first time that Bill and I went camping was on our first anniversary. We were quite young and had never been camping a day in our lives. When we initially decided to go camping, we were undecided about whether we should by a tent or go into debt and buy an RV.

Being Christians, we took it to the Lord in prayer. A few days later, we felt that an RV at that time in our lives was a financial burden we didn't need and that Jesus had led us to forgo such a lavish investment and go with something more practical.

We bought a secondhand tent, two sleeping bags and all the gear that went along with camping. Bill and I loved to fish so we headed for the Great Smokey mountains.

The scenery was breathtaking as we made our way along the parkway, looking for a good campsite. We finally found one we liked and eased our way along the narrow road down a steep hill to the campgrounds, which was full of tents, and pop-up campers. It was a nice campground complete with bathrooms and showers.

It didn't take long to set up the tent and before long, we were on our way to the trout stream just a few feet away from our campsite. I couldn't wait to get my line out and hurriedly pushed four kernels of corn unto my hook and cast out to the rock-fall. The line went down the short fall and circled the pool when, BAM! Got a hit!

I was jumping and squealing like a teenager when I reeled it in and when I pulled it out of the water, it wiggled right off the dang hook! At first, I stood with eyes and mouth wide open then I stomped all over the place. Bill laughed till he cried. I'm glad somebody thought it was funny because I sure didn't.

As it turned out though, we ended up leaving the stream a few hours later with a right fine stringer of trout. The evening sun was sinking slowly over the mountains as Bill started the campfire and I got ready to cook dinner. A little more than an hour later, we were enjoying fresh trout, corn and hush-puppies. When dinner was all cleaned up, we got in the tent and played cards. It was almost like being kids again, hiding in our own little private world.

Darkness had long since fallen along with the temperature when

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