The 33-m.p.h. gusts blew in the walls of our tent and it felt as if our combined weight was the only thing stopping the wind from picking up our shelter and dumping it into the Great Salt Lake just 500 yards away.

That was a rude awakening to what was an otherwise pleasant one-day camping trip. That is, if you don't count the swarms of miniscule, black, biting insects.

"Roxana are you awake? Is it raining outside?" asked Maggie as her head popped out of her sleeping bag while the wind rustled loudly.

Roxana peeked through the unzipped portion of the now bent, barely-standing tent.

"Maggie, the stove flew off the table and the chairs are in the fire pit."

Ours was the only visible tent in the vicinity. Everyone else remained in slumber inside their cozy tent trailers.

"Maggie, I have to go to the bathroom."

"No, don't leave me."

"I'll be right back, woman," Roxana said.

"Don't get blown away."

The concept of camping wasn't completely new to us. We had been camping before in some sort of capacity. Maggie had a horrible camping experience in college. Not knowing how cold it could get at California's Millerton Lake in the summertime, she brought just shorts and T-shirts. She didn't have a sleeping bag, either, and had to sleep with her feet in a pillowcase.

Roxana had camped several times in Minnesota and Wisconsin, a much different terrain than Utah. For one thing, there is green grass and soft dirt to pitch a tent on.

On two trips, thunder and the fear of being struck by lightning kept her up all night. There was also that time in Ireland when a helicopter with a spotlight flew above her tent for hours while rain seeped into her cheap non-waterproof tent.

Yes, we had been camping but not in a place that offered a view of mountains, a beach, herds of bison and a salty stench and swarming bugs.

Camping at Antelope Island was, indeed, a new experience. At least it had pit toilets and fire pits.

The bugs were relentless. They seemed to have found a second home on our arms, necks, faces - any piece of exposed skin. The layer of dead and living bugs on our hair created a hairnet-like illusion. It was a disturbing image as we tried to fix ourselves dinner.

Small as the bugs were, they made even the simplest camping tasks more difficult. We were so preoccupied with keeping the bugs away that it made the three goals we had in mind - pitching the tent, building a fire and making dinner - take longer than expected.

Pitching the tent wasn't the hard part, although we did set it up inside out at first. The challenge was getting our borrowed equipment - sleeping bags, mattress pads and pillows - in the tent without letting the bugs in.

Building a fire wasn't so easy. We didn't bring enough wood and resorted to going to nearby sites and stealing what was left behind in the fire pits. Resourcefulness is key in camping.

We also had to find kindling. Maggie retrieved a few puny twigs while Roxana collected sticks. She knew what it would take to sustain the fire. Needless to say, Roxana did most of the fire building.

The dinner menu was tomato soup and quesadillas. It didn't take long to make the meal after setting up the propane stove, which we got working with the help of a passing ranger.

Before he left, we asked him some important questions.

"Has anyone died from West Nile disease from any mosquito bites on this island?"

"Are there any ghost stories here?"

The short answer to those questions: no and yes, respectively.

We enjoyed dinner by the dying fire, and by this point, the bugs weren't so bothersome thanks to the half a can of insect repellent we had sprayed on ourselves. We were able to make s'mores before the fire went out.

While on the island, we did more than camp. We drove almost the length of the island and found herds of bison. We were about seven feet away from one of them on our drive. Maggie was fascinated and wanted to get closer. Roxana was terrified and drove by at about 2 m.p.h.

We heard the calls of different birds in the bushes. We went to the Antelope Island visitor's center and stared at a tank full of brine shrimp. We visited the Fielding Garr Ranch, where the adobe farmhouse built by Fielding Garr in 1848 still stands. There was also a blacksmith shop, a chicken coop and horses lingering behind an old truck.

Though we camped for just one night, it was clear that camping is more than just sleeping in a tent. It's one part being resourceful, one part getting away, and one part remembering how nice it is to be surrounded by nature.

Camping is definitely something we'll do again. It's fun when you're fully prepared. The only thing we would do differently is make sure we find a place with fewer bugs.

Despite the insects, this island has character with wildlife majestic enough to impress a couple novices in nature.

Public campgrounds

Many are first-come, first-served, but it is

possible to reserve sites. Here's how:

* Utah State Parks - The reservation center is open weekdays from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. and can be reached at 800-322-3770 or 801-322-3770. Reservations can also be made on the Web at http://stateparks.utah.gov/reservations/

* Utah's National Parks - Call 877-444-6777 or visit www.recreation.gov.

* U.S. Forest Service - Call 877-444-6777 or visit www.recreation.gov.

* Bureau of Land Management - Most BLM campsites are available on a first-come-first-served basis, but some campgrounds do have reserved sites available. To make a reservation, contact the BLM field office where the campground is located. Visit http://www.blm.gov/ut/ for more information.