Hwy 41, aka: Memory Lane

Yesterday I drove one of our church members down to the city for a doctor appt.  He always has interesting stories to tell and we talked about Thanksgiving and Christmas, but somehow we got onto vacations when we were kids.

His family was big on camping and when his dad had to haul whatever he hauled from southern to central California, he took the kids and made a vacation of the trip.  My parents didn't do vacations.  My dad was a merchant seaman and my mom didn't drive until later.  A vacation for me was a weekend trip with the girl scouts or a visit to my aunt & uncle's.

My husband's family vacationed all their lives and when I joined the family, we (my kids & I) were introduced to this concept.  Vacationing meant camping and I fell in love with it.  Maybe that's why I love living where I do.  My daughter says my home reminds her of camping except you can go in the house, take a shower, and sleep in a bed.  Many times we camped with my in-laws.  We camped locally and we camped out of state.  Our favorite spot were the lakes above Beaver, UT. We camped at Anderson Meadows at about 8,000 ft.  Fishing was excellent, we ate a lot of trout.  The kids hiked and we took horseshoes and a tetherball set and board games for them; the girls would lie in the sun at the campsite and then go around the lake and play in the snow.  Swimming was out of the question.  The people in the town were so friendly and always helpful.  And, it was one of the most beautiful spots I've ever seen.  When we took the kids, we'd break camp a day early and go into town to spend the last day and night at a KOA campground so they could all swim and the girls, especially, could enjoy the "modern conveniences".  Each trip was a story in itself and I'll break them out on occasion.

Yesterday, Hwy 41 became Memory Lane.  Thanks, Earl!