I was a pretty normal kid growing up -- I loved to camp.  My only problem was I watched too many Rambo movies, so a small gaggle of Rambonites and myself went out on the weekend to "rough it". (Twinkies and Vienna sausages are bare essentials, I swear.)  Actually we didn't usually set out to rough it; it's just that we always forgot most of our equipment, and no one wanted to go all the way back home just to retrieve the salad forks.  We learned the hard way how to compensate for essential items that were left in the closet.  Most of the time our ideas wouldn't work, but every once in a while the stars would align just right and something actually succeeded.  Here are some of those ideas that kept us young survivalists happy campers.   

When I was about 15, we had our first serious campout.  By "serious" I mean we actually brought food to cook -- not food to open.  We thought of everything; steaks, potatoes, spices, etc., enough for a couple of well-rounded meals.  We forgot the pans.

Clean water was the hardest part to accomplish.  First we tried to filter the water using a sock filled with charcoal.  Since we only brought one pair of socks each, the pair on our feet, the idea didn't go over too well.  Our second ingenious idea was to carve a bowl in which we could put water to boil and somehow not catch on fire.  After we broke two or three of our "survival" knives and our bowls still resembled a tree, we decided that our oak dining set wasn't going to happen.  Finally someone recalled it's possible to boil water in a paper cup, and I realize now the guts it took to say that because I know I wouldn't want to be at the receiving end of the looks we gave him.  We went though many pieces of paper and a myriad of designs (my buddy Bryon can make one fancy paper swan!) before we finally hit on one that worked.  It turned out to look like a small casserole dish.  We built it by taking the paper and folding it like we were gift-wrapping half a package.  A small lip around the top of the "dish" kept the triangle flaps in place.  The heat from the fire put condensation on the outside of the paper to keep it from burning.

After that small victory we thought cooking the steaks would be a simple task.  Our idea was to cook'em like marshmallows.  After sacrificing a couple of perfectly good steaks to the fire-gods (because the end of our sticks burned off), we realized the error of our ways.  Luckily some parts of Missouri have clay for soil and we happened to be in one of those areas.  So we took forked branches and made a twig latticework over the Y.   All we did was pack the fork with clay, hold it over the fire for a bit, and we had ourselves custom Earthenware.  

The potatoes were even easier after we discovered the power of clay.  We packed clay around those 'taters and tossed them to the side of the fire ring.  After about 30 to 45 minutes (depends on the size of the potato and the size of the fire), we cracked those puppies open and had ourselves a pretty good meat-and-potatoes meal ... that we had to eat with our hands, of course.

Another camping mishap happened about two years later, and if you think we learned our lesson on being prepared, then you are sadly mistaken.  On this incident we forgot an ... umm, very important hygiene tissue.  And, as much as we would have liked to be "roughing it," we just happened to schedule our trip the same time as a big poison ivy convention.  Once again notebook paper saved our behinds (no pun intended).  We found that if we took a couple of pieces, folded them flat and put them between our flattened hands, we could rub our hands together and it broke down the stiffness of the notebook paper to an almost tissue-like substance.  You just had to remember to plan ahead about 5 minutes.

On one small hunting excursion as a much older and wiser person, I went with my cousin to northern Missouri.  We were so excited to go that we forget all fire-making equipment. (Unfortunately, unpreparedness is genetic.)  So we were out in the middle of nowhere, in a cabin, in the middle of November.  Our only savior is that we drove.  The cigarette lighter was out of the question.  My cousin had just bought a new GPS unit so we tossed that easy fire-builder.  Our first thought, of course, was to use the gas from the truck. We both decided however, that we looked better with eyebrows, so we canned that idea. (plus, I think we were almost out of fuel).  After a couple of minutes we came across an idea.  We put jumper cables on the battery, then we quickly and lightly tapped the other ends together to produce sparks over a small pile of twigs and fuzz-sticks.  It's important not to hold the two terminals together long because they will weld themselves together.  And, if you don't get them apart, your battery will explode.  I know this isn't the best way to treat your battery, but if you're in serious need of a fire, then you do what you must to stay warm.  The damage to the battery from arcing is minimal and the battery will still work fine.

To better help you have a safe and enjoyable camping trip; here are some of the things that don't work:

• Any sleeping bag endorsed by a big-screen movie character.     
• Paper-mâché canoes.     
• Tents without instructions.     
• Camping with anyone nicknamed Stinky, Smelly or Gastro.     
• Trusting your buddy's expansive "knowledge" of his GPS unit.     
• Pantyhose.  (I don't care if they keep you warm. Trust me, it's not a good idea.)     
• Rock soup.     
• Not checking for bee's nests before going to the bathroom.     
• Anything that starts with someone saying, "I bet you . . . "     
• Camping with my buddies.