As a child “family vacation” meant camping in a small camper with the people who hated to be around each other. We didn’t take big trips to exotic places or even warm places with beaches. We went “Up North” which in Minnesota language is anything North of the Twin Cities. See the red on this map? Everything NORTH of that is “Up North” which is home to amazing fishing and many, many lakes (way more than 10,000).

I spent more summers than I can remember at Woodlawn Resort & Campground in Glenwood, MN. There is a hill when you drive into town that you go over and Lake Minnewaska is sprawled out in front of you welcoming you to another summer of your childhood. It really became like a second home that I looked forward to every summer. We had the same campsite in the corner for years, which I am sure they still refer to as ours. The owners always greeted and hugged us – admiring how we had grown over the school year. These summers are the best of my childhood memories for so many reasons. Simply put, it was the pure freedom to go anywhere in the campground and just be a kid. My friend, whose parents owned the campground, always had an idea for an adventure and always had a new hide out for us to play in. She was so much braver than I ever was. I admired that. I remember taking the little red kayaks out to the weeds, tying up, and reading books or fishing. When the schools of baby bullheads were by the docks we would scoop them into buckets and watch them swim for awhile and return them to the lake when we were done. Sometimes we would camp in my little tent together and stay up late by the fire with other kids at the campground. It wasn’t anything magical. But it was the place I felt like I could be myself. I often think about dragging my kids across the country just to go and sit on the dock at my lake. I can still hear the sound of the waves hitting the dock and splashing against the boats. I want them to know where my good memories are stored. Show them where my grandma fell into the lake. Show them playground I longed to get back to all school year. Show them the hill that used to welcome me to summer. Life is better when you’re camping. Time to go invest in a tent. xoxo

My first “BIG” fish. A Northern. Notice I am not happy  and wouldn’t hold it so my dad had to. Also- one of the only pictures I have with my dad. That’s him. On the right. Holding the fish.