As a kid, this was one of my favorite campgrounds on the Russian River in Guerneville, California. So when I pulled out this slide, I actually gasped to see what it really looked like through adult eyes. To me, this place was paradise.
What more could a kid want? Hot lazy Coppertone-scented days spinning in a big, skin- burning, black inner-tube in the cool waters of Russian River; hot dogs and marshmallows heated on twigs over a campfire until they got charred; Communal movies shown on a big white bed sheet at the front of the campground; of course, this elegant swimming pool. Just across the street was a pee wee golf course with a super slide. It was kid Heaven.
So, to see the campground pool now - the water green-hued from algae, surrounded by weed-strewn cement and a trailer - is a little shocking; not that it seemed to matter to me at eight years old. The way I'm lounging on that blue raft, head resting in hand, I don't think I could have been happier if I were in the turquoise waters of the Bahamas.