Self-inflating air matresses are not. At least not enough for an adult past sixty to ever get comfortable sleeping on the ground. I became aware of bones I didn’t know I had. I doubt if I slept twenty minutes at a stretch. Next time it’s a real air mattress or a cot. Or both.
It would also help to go to a park that wasn’t so close to the Austin airport. McKinney Falls (falls rather small) is a nice place and it’s very handy, but it’s close enough to a subdivision to hear police and/or medical-rescue helicopters traversing the sky throughout the night. Also sounds of a nearby highway, and, of course, Austin-Bergstrom International Airport, although the big jets pretty much cease after midnight. They sound like giant vaccuum cleaners from under the trees.
Mr. Boy, however, pronounced it all good, his first camping trip as a Cub Scout–especially the open fires, roaming through the woods and the s’mores. He ate two, after he was reconciled to eating the first marshmellow despite it’s having "turned brown" over the fire.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 