When I was 7 my dad surprised me with a camping trip with just him. We loaded up his fully restored El Camino and drove to our state park. When we arrived he went in to pay for our site. We drove around and finally arrived at our little slice of heaven for the next 24 hours, a site designated for RVs. This is the point of the story where I disclose that we were going to be camping, not in a RV but a tent. We pitched our tent on top of the gravel a began preparing our dinner, hot dogs of questionable temperature. You see they had been in a Coleman cooler in the back of the truck bed in the east Tennessee sun..... With out ice. After dinner we went fishing, we didn't catch anything but a sunburn. What happened next was the longest, most uncomfortable and miserable nights sleep in all of my 34 years. My dad snores like a motorcycle and I had rocks digging into every part of my body that came into contact with the ground. On top of the rocks, it got cold that night, very cold and I had only packed clothes for summer. I mentioned my dad's snoring because he slept like a baby. The next morning our breakfast was a can of cold beanies and wenies. The whole trip we only had one tool, a pocket knife. I don't remember what brand but it did everything we needed, sharpened our sticks for hot dogs, helped us untangle our fishing lines, opened our breakfast cans. It was the best, worst camping trip ever. I will never forget it, and without that knife we probably would have had to go home.