Like Lessmore, I started when I was about 6, tent camping with my parents. First in the nearby Smoky Mountains, and in a couple of years, all the way to Custer, S.D. towing a borrowed homemade teardrop trailer. Round trip from Cincinnati in 3 weeks.
I still vividly remember bits and pieces. Like stopping in a drug store to buy more 6-12 mosquito repellant. They didn't carry it or any other brand. No standing water in the black hills, so there was no place for them to breed. I doubt that's true anymore.
I also remember stopping by the side of the road to watch them making a movie starring Charlton Heston as he led a wagon train out west. Mostly, I remember walking out on the rocks in the Badlands and nearly stepping in a crevice. Might have been the end of me if my Dad hadn't caught my arm. The best was camping in Custer State Park. The mountain goats would climb down the steep rocks that humans couldn't even stand on without falling, and eat soda crackers out of my hand.
Strange that I still remember any of it since it was nearly 65 years ago. Also strange what I remember so vividly.