In the summer of 1974, my parents and two brothers (both older than myself), took a cross-country trip from our new home in Connecticut heading to the West in a light green Buick LeSabre.
We covered 36 states in six weeks, and every night was spent pitching a family tent in Koa Kampgrounds. The smell of my mother's rotis
being cooked on a Coleman gas burner is something I'll never forget. Back then, however, I was embarrassed that in our little corner of the campground we… Continue