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Show »yratetma HOW MyFamily GotBitten By the Camping Bug Every year, thousands of new campers hit the road, following an instinct that has taunted humanity for centuries. They wonder what it’s all abcut, and they'd like to sample the great outdoors—at leat once. Some of them—the lucky ones—will rediscover that fragile link between human nature and Mother Nature that is often lost somewhere beyond the pleasant mists of childhood. Others will dip in a cautious toe and quickly recoil befure giving themselves a chance for total immersion. One bad experience will be enough. Subconsciously they have steeled themselves against “roughing it,” "even in an age when, for many, camping is practically moving your home to a temporary place filled with neighbors. We're part of the lucky group. My wife Dorothy and I were iatent campers. Our only regret is that we waited so long to take the plunge. We took it less than two years ago, but fortunately our children were siill young enough to embrace Mother Nature Photo by Edward M. Brigham, Ill, National Audubon Society These birds—21v* of them, of 20 different kinds—died after an area application of a “hard” pesticide in Calhoun County, Michigan. The application was aimed at the Japanese Beetle: it tragically missed its mark. 18 Sparrcws 119 Robins 2 Horned Larks 25Starlings 2 Elickers 1 Field Sparrow 14 Grackles 1 Ruffed Grouse 5 Yellow-Bellied Sapsuckers 4 Slatecolored Juncos 3 Cardinals 4 Brown Thrashers 3 Meadowlarks. 3 Goldfinches 1 Chipping Sparrow 1 Mourning Dove 1 Redwinged Blackbird 1 White-Throated Sparrow 1 Cedar Waxwing 1 Catbird 7e without reservation. We have always enjoyed nature, though we are not schooled in all of its ways. We revel at the sight and feel of a ciean lake, even though we are not fishermen. And, since we are pushing 40 and haven't been physically prepared, we do not hike with gusto. But we love camping simply. And this is how it must be with everyone who has been bitten by the camping bug. For us, camping is being together in a quiet place, doing what we like when the spirit mcves us. It’s pitching the tent and setting up our kitchen canopy. Each trip is as thrilling as that very first night in our tent, overcloaked by a veil of steady rain. Or our first open-air breakfast in the slanting rays of dawn. Or our first night staying up Jater than everyone else and staring into the magical afterglow of the fire ring. Camping has become a mystique because, even with her kaleidoscope of moods, Mother Nature is delightfully predictable. We know there will always be an encore of that trembling summer night when we watched an overblown moon ride the dangerous spires of the high pines. We can expect a rerun of early-morning rabbits across a foot trail. We can reasonably predict the recurring splendor of autunin camp—when cool stars are almost touchable; when the golden flutter of afternoon leaves merges with the choreography of wild birds. : Camping has deepened our capacity to respect the natural environment and to be awed Ly its variety of tableaus. We can return, at least part way, to a life style that prevailed when man first huddled in the caves of an alien carth, peering out at its fearfulness and its glory. As man begins his trek toward the stars, it seems especially good to take a long and leisurely look at our planet. For us, camping is the way to do it. @ Family Weekly, June 20, 1971 |