It doesn’t get much better than a summer spent camping in our potential 51st state. Just watch out for the DIY marijuana farmers, avoid the meth lab trailers where aluminum foil covers the windows, and give wide space to the tree-spikers in the middle of the night. — IT WAS 2005, and I was to turn 50 that summer, and sometime in July took off on a road trip with my younger daughter, 8 year-old Jenna, who had just completed 2nd grade.