Growing up in Iowa, once a summer my dad would pack a tent, sleeping bags, and load up our camper which sat securely on the bed of my dad's pick- up truck. My mom would pack hot dogs to roast, and of course s'mores. We would then head off to a local campground on the shores of Saylorville Lake for an overnight adventure. We laughed as we burned marshmallows, and sometimes my mom even brought her guitar to play for us. This is all, thankfully, I knew of camping until I became an adult living...