In Places of the Great Outdoors : A New Generation Is Discovering the Family Campgrounds of California

Like a bear cub clutching a salmon, Nigel toddled through camp, lifting to his lips a crisp slice of bacon--a slice he’d just dropped and retrieved and which was now encrusted with black dirt and pine needles.

“Don’t eat that, Nigel!” the boy’s father pleaded, squirming away from the picnic table in an effort to head off his 15-month-old son.

In a way, the moment encapsulated the basic pleasures and perils of family camping--an American tradition that’s undergoing a renaissance, as young parents who grew up pitching tents and building fires initiate their own kids in these rites.

As Vanderford whisked the bacon from Nigel’s grip, friends and family members--a mother and her two grown daughters, another father and his three young sons--luxuriated in the joys of an open-air breakfast, sipping coffee and drenching pancakes in syrup as eggs sizzled on a Coleman stove. Overhead, seed puffs rode streams of pine smoke up through incense cedar boughs, toward a sky the color of the blue jays squawking down by the creek.

WHERE TO GO:

There are 70 or so campgrounds in the 693,000 acres of the Angeles National Forest, ranging from primitive backpacking camps to paved and relatively plush sites with trailer spaces. The San Bernardino, Cleveland and Los Padres national forests add dozens more to the list, and state campgrounds, county campgrounds and countless private camps and RV parks can be found two or three hours from downtown Los Angeles.

A few of these campgrounds aren’t much more scenic than that littered weed field next to the local

K mart. The only way to tell a good campground from a marginal one is to visit it or get first-hand advice. The next best strategy, though, is to plan ahead.

Forest Service maps are so stuffed with detailed information on campsites, wildlife, rules and camping etiquette they practically explode when they’re unfolded. Those red tent symbols on those intriguingly twisted roads scream out to be explored. Available at ranger stations for $1 or outdoor shops such as REI Co-op or Sports Chalet for $1.50 to $2, they’re a steal.

The state also offers a map laden with information about the beach, desert and mountain camps it maintains. It can be picked up for $1 at any state campground or beach. And most bookstores and outdoor shops sell various more detailed supplements, such as the “California State Parks Guide” (Olympus Press: $12.95).

As any veteran camper will attest, however, the essence of camping has less to do with the specifics of a place than with being outdoors and away from home and routine. A campground may be the only place some kids see their parents when their parents aren’t preoccupied.

“Pictures of our wedding reception show Jack on the phone,” said Barbara Scanlan, a consulting analyst, as she sat on a rock at Chilao Campground in the Angeles National Forest. “But up here, the phone can’t ring. There’s nothing you can do about daily business.”

To accentuate his wife’s remarks, Jack Scanlan, a film company press agent, pulled out photos of previous family camping trips: Him holding their 3-month-old baby beside flowering yuccas. “This puts you in touch with the priorities in your life,” Barbara said.

WHAT TO TAKE:

Take a stroll through Doheny State Beach about the time most of California is watching “Family Ties.” Coleman lanterns project the silhouettes of folks who squabble a bit too loudly, forgetting that tent walls aren’t made of wood and stucco. Around campfires of scrap lumber kids look up and iterate questions about the vastness of the universe, questions their parents asked 20 years earlier. The scent of rubber-soled shoes melting against metal fire rings wafts in the sea breeze.

Camping styles range from minimalist to wretched excess, and beach camps reflect the spectrum. Second-generation campers recall the sensations of napping in an old canvas tent, with its distinctive sounds and smells. Today, though, mini-vans and fiberglass-framed nylon dome tents, available at prices from $29 to $800 at department and outdoor stores, seem to be de rigueur.

Also deemed essential by most campers are a stove, flashlight, first aid kit, cook set and table ware, sleeping bags, sleeping pads or air mattresses, and a family-sized ice chest filled with food that’s easy to cook. Tricycles, dump trucks, beach balls, water wings and Sesame Street books are optional--as are mountain bicycles, surfboards, fishing poles, croquet sets, playing cards, and similar toys.

Neophytes in doubt of what to bring might read “Starting Small in the Wilderness--the Sierra Club Outdoors Guide for Families” by Marlyn Doan (Sierra Club Books, 1979), “The Family Book of Camping Lists” by Charles and Kathleen Farmer (Stackpole Books, 1981), or a few issues of Outside or Backpacker magazine.

Dan Nordberg, a 35-year-old attorney, sat at a picnic table at Doheny State Beach, watching his 3 1/2-year-old daughter dig in the sand. His 16-month-old son romped around his playpen. Nordberg grew up taking weekend trips to local campsites. “I still remember those as being the best days, going camping with dad,” he said. “We’d load everyone up in the old Ford Galaxy and off we’d go.”

WHAT TO DO:

“Dad, can you smell a fungus when it’s near by you?,” 6-year-old Eric Pittman asked his father as he scrubbed sap off his hands following a soccer match under the conifers at Buckhorn camp.

“Why? Do you think there’s a fungus among us?” his dad, a 34-year-old programmer from Torrance replied.

“Well I can’t smell it, and I just wanted to know,” Eric said, growing impatient.

To get minds moving, some campers have tricks. For example, “Sharing Nature With Children” by Joseph Bharat Cornell (Ananda Publications, 1979) offers dozens of ingenious games to spark a child’s appreciation and enjoyment of the outdoors. For more formal education, many campgrounds offer campfire talks and interpretive programs.

“So many people come up from the city to the Angeles National Forest, and they never see the forest,” said Gerald Reponen, manager of the Chilao Visitors Center in the forest. To rectify this, the center holds children’s nature walks each Saturday at 10 a.m., family walks at 1 in the afternoon, and “scavenger hunts” and “unnatural nature walks” Sundays throughout the summer. “Junior Ranger” programs at some state campgrounds and interpretive lectures at county parks are also popular.

While Smokey the Bear can teach kids to prevent forest fires, parents may choose to teach some things themselves. Parents need to know, for instance, that a high percentage of the children arriving at hospital burn centers are there because of injuries caused by campfires and barbecues.

No matter how much stuff you bring to entertain yourself and your kids, though, a lot of camp time will probably be spent in that sweet gray zone in which one is immersed in inactivity, just on the brink of boredom.

It’s in these periods that adventure blooms--as well as friendships of a sort unlike most others. Toddlers share a sand castle, then wave goodby to each other forever the next day. Adolescents find true romance around a fire shared by camping families then ride home heartbroken when the weekend ends.

At De Vore camp, an easy mile and a half hike down the Gabrielino trail from Westfork Campground in the Angeles National Forest, Ed and Nancy Stonick of Pasadena relaxed at their streamside tent site with their 10-year-old son Gregory.

“He’s so involved with this fishing business,” his mother said, watching her son, who stood watching the fish and the superimposed reflection of his face and the trees and the canyon and the sky. Armed only with a bent pin on old line attached to a stick, though, Gregory was no match for the trout.

“Can I go in, Dad?” he asked.

“It’s icy cold,” his dad said. “You don’t want to get all wet before we eat.”

“Come on, Dad! Can I please?”

So, in the soft light of dusk, the boy waded into the cold pool, creating tiny waves that rippled across the water and may continue to ripple imperceptibly through his life.