Do you enjoy camping in the Mississippi outdoors? In the 1970s, my family regularly camped at state parks and KOA campgrounds. For those of you unfamiliar, KOA offered safe and very popular public camping sites across America. We routinely searched for the iconic yellow sign off the highway and pulled over for the night. My dear mother was not keen on pitching a tent and dealing with dirt, rain, and mosquitoes. Dad wanted to stay mobile, so he invested in my grandfather’s 1960s Serro Scotty camper.
The tiny camper had a signature turquoise color stripe along the top of the sides and a single axle for two little wheels. Our baby home was 13 feet long and six and a half feet wide, a human matchbox which could be configured to sleep our family of four. The dining table folded down to the floor to make a sleep space, and when my younger brother got older, Dad built a pallet type device to make the 5 foot floor level for separate bedding. We made breakfast, coffee, used the restroom, played cards, and snoozed in that itty bitty space. The camper sported one window, so we would crack it open on cool nights and try to fall asleep before Dad started sawing logs. Somehow, that pillbox had a closet where we could hang clothes and store supplies, along with shelving and cabinets for food and kitchenware. We did regularly bump our heads on the ceiling, and into each other, but there was something exciting and thrilling about “cramping,” our sarcastic term for camping tight.
My recollection is that we played, hiked, biked, and swam so much during the day, the Scotty cave was all we needed to rest up for the next day’s adventure. We may have had the smallest camper on site, but we were content and fulfilled. That old camper served many purposes beyond camping, such as the secret hiding place for Santa’s presents, until I discovered Santa’s lair and his stash one December day. Embarrassed I stumbled onto the gifts, I never told a soul until I wrote this article. (Sorry, Mom). The camper also served as a carport eyesore, requiring regular washing and on one occasion, became home to a large family of red wasps. Wasps do not like being sprayed by water, and I learned this after one stung my upper lip which swelled so large, one might think I had injected Botox long before anyone knew about Botox lips.
Over time, our family literally outgrew that miniature sardine can of a camper and never got another one. My brother and I were driving, dating girls, and not interested in being sandwiched with our parents. But, as with so many experiences, time has a way of warming the memories of our past. We may have been cramped campers, but we were happy campers with a special mantra. When it was time for a camping vacation, we would say, “Beam me up Scotty!,” ready to see new forests, lakes, and creeks in Mississippi and beyond.
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Clark Hicks is a lawyer who lives in Hattiesburg. His email is clark@hicksattorneys.com.
