On a blustery, rainy day in June, my two kid brothers and I helped our parents load our car with camping supplies: tent, cookstove, sleeping bags, books, snacks, etc.

“Why go on a camping vacation in rainy June?” I asked. Even wearing a raincoat, rain dripped down my neck.

“June is the best month for a vacation,” Mom said. “No crowds.”

“Plenty of empty campsites to choose from,” Dad added. “If something comes up and we can’t get away in the middle of summer, we don’t need to scramble at the end of August to find a campsite.”

Our June vacation schedule never varied. On the even years, we went camping — one week to the Western Cascade Mountains, and the next week to the Oregon coast.

On the odd years, we traveled to the Intermountain Region and spent two weeks visiting relatives. A story for another day.

For camping in the Cascade Mountains or on the Oregon coast, the weather never varied except for the type of rain: A drizzle, a torrential downpour, a steady beating of rain accompanied by a bone-chilling wind. Rain.

When our 1953, Kelly green, two-door, stick shift car bulged with food and supplies, we headed out.

At the empty campsite, Mom went to work setting up a meal preparation site. Meals from Mom — plenty of tasty food.

My brothers and I helped drag the canvas, umbrella-style tent to a mostly level site. Considering weight of the tent, one could consider the fabric bulletproof. When assembled, the tent peaked in the center with four interior poles reaching from the ground to the center ceiling.

Steps to assembling the tent: Send one kid (me) into the pile of canvas. Take one tent pole and position so it pushes up the center. Sunshine from a break in the rain lights the inside of the tent to a garish green and illuminates the shriveled bodies of last season’s bugs.

With a lot of directions from family members, place three tent poles inside on three corners. Then the tricky part. Take the center pole out and maneuver into the fourth side and secure it before the other poles collapse, leaving the tent person flattened in a pile of canvas.

How to hold the center up with one arm and secure the pole in place with the needed two hands?

The easiest way — put the center pipe on my head to free up that hand. This pipe had an open end about the size of a quarter which dug into my scalp. giving me the feeling the pipe was cutting out cranial donut holes. Everyone gave orders, except Mom, who had a hot meal ready.

Dad and my siblings staked the outside corners and secured the tent with enough rope that anyone heading to the privy at night could be assured of tripping over ropes.

Rain picked up. Mosquitoes and horseflies continued their hunt for a meal. The air fresh. The water pure — at least as pure as a tent leak dripping on sleeping bags.

After a week of sloshing through rainy days in the woods, we headed home to clean up and dry out. By Monday, we loaded for camping at the beach. The beach weather report looked promising — sunny, gentle breezes.

Once again fooled — whatever the report for the beach, it always dissolved into rain.

Gale winds and rain so relentless, our parents rented a budget motel and ordered pizza. We spent the week playing board games, old maid and reading as we waited for weather to clear. It never did.