I don’t have a lot of pleasant camping memories. The experiences I had as a kid, with my maternal grandparents who had an actual camper, would probably be good memories to have. But I don’t remember them. I do remember being excited at the one campground having actual toilets, albeit in a communal bathroom, but otherwise, I remember those events occurring, but I don’t remember those events. There’s also a lot of nostalgia, so if I press too hard, I worry I’ll be fictionalizing. I had to go camping with my summer camp as a middle schooler. Didn’t like those trips much. Went with my school in fifth grade, hated it. My wife wrangled me into camping last year and I liked it all right. Whatever—but that smell is awesome. The camp fire smell. It reminds me more of smelling it in autumn at home as people had fire pits or whatever. Autumn nights in the midwest are wonderful nostalgia fodder.