Who Goes Camping at Folsom Prison

The Tech Monkey starts almost every story with "For the record it was not my fault." Having Agent Daddy for a father has made him aware of the need to not incriminate himself. I think that I need to start this story in much the same way..."For the record, it was not my fault." I can say this because this story actually happened when I was about 11 years old.

My mom and dad were very much 70's free spirits. They liked to get into the car and just drive. Not to anywhere in particular, just as far as they could before they had to go home to change for work, they got too
tired to drive any further, or until they got THERE. I am not sure that they always knew where THERE was but they seemed to believe that they would  know THERE when we got THERE.  They also were not much for planning. So when they planned for the family to go on a week long camping trip, my brother and I were beside ourselves with joy. My parents promised that we would leave " as soon as they got home from work on Friday night." Well, what they really meant was that as soon as they got home from work, packed the camper, did the grocery shopping and it got dark we would leave for our 6 hour drive to Folsom Lake to go camping for a week. I don't remember what time we left to go on our trip but it must have been late because at some point I fell asleep. Sometime during the night my dad decided that he couldn't drive any longer so he pulled the camper into this really well lit parking lot to sleep until it got light. For those of you not from California, or not familiar with the prison system, Folsom Prison is located on the shores of Folsom Lake. Folsom Lake has lovely camping spots on the OTHER side of the lake from the prison. When we got up in the morning and looked at the PRISON WALLS we were parked in front of my dad glibly told us "How much safer could you be than with armed guards right out side the camper?" ...That's my dad, an answer for everything.

So who goes camping at Folsom Prison? ME.