From the camping-hiking department:
INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE READER: Before you start, know that for a short story, this will be pretty long. Prepare thine eyes and mind, for I allowed mine to wander to a Storyteller’s Place as I put thoughts to words.
Oh, yeah – it comes with pictures, too! Anyways, read on, and be prepared for the weirdness that awaits.
Day 1 – Six hours (five driving) for three days and two nights of one hella fun camping trip
Work was busy, so I didn’t leave until around 14h00. Considered driving home to restart a basement server shut down by a power failure, but decided that getting to the beer drinking is more important – The Forums will have to wait ’til I get home.
The journey starts off fine. Then I drove into Montreal and the Polar Monkeys had poured a finely proportioned mixture of glue and molasses across the highways such that no car could move faster than 10km/h. Outside of Montreal, an hour later, Rte. 10 was nice and quick. I think I prefer driving to Magog and taking the I-91 south versus I-89 . Vermont was awesome to drive through as usual.
Entering New Hampshire, I drove through a state park where the interstate narrows down to two lanes. Apparently some old man lost his nose around here. Later I pulled off the highway to find gas and went through a place with a sign: “INDIAN HEAD”. I never found any decapitated Native Americans but I did see very cool looking resort-ish hotel made of wood and sporting a well-lit outdoor pool. I should like to visit it some day in the company of friends.
Got to the campground where I met my sister, who was not so sauced that she couldn’t help me pitch my tent. Then it was to the campfire where I caught up on eating and most importantly, a rather one-sided conversation with my good friend Sam Adams. Met some people I didn’t know, caught up with those I did, and so the camping trip really begins, and the evening ends.
The campfire crowd thinned out, while those of us who remained got louder as though to make up the difference for our departed comrades. Especially Rob, a happy drunk whose volume of speech matches his volume of drink.
Day 2 – Seven people go hiking; one comes back spattered in blood (kudos to Tara who thought that line up)
The night is cold. I have two sleeping bags but otherwise no padding, and I am torn between sleeping in one bag atop the other for padding, or sleeping one bag within the other for warmth. The latter wins. We didn’t have roosters, so instead babies took on the duty of morning calls. I played the usual weekend game of waking up, turning over and going back to sleep. I wake up when the game gets boring, which is usually after ten turns or so.
A Bag of Home
Then I allowed that one of my arms should venture forth from the sacred comfort of the sleeping bag into the dread cold of morning – to turn on the heater. After a minute or two I crawled out of my warm and cozy nocturnal pouch to dress and pack my bags for The Hike.
I wandered over to The Breakfast Campsite where that indispensible Columbian Beverage of the Morning was to be found, along with delicious muffins and other yummy breakfast-type stuff. Afterwards, discussion ensued as to who among us will brave the towering and daunting Mount Hedgehog of Modest Effort. Seven of us chose this path, while others chose a shorter and less vertically challenging destination – which was probably the more arduous venture what with carrying the young kiddies along.
Our brave troupe piled into Dan’s truck for the ride to our starting point. A perfectly innocent mistake by our venerable and benevolent navigator (hey, 113 and 112 are close, OK?) caused us to lose a mere five minutes of looping back – and might I add as a completely neutral and disinterested third party that we would never have had the great conversation and pleasant atmosphere that we had if we’d not taken the extra detour.
The Troupe of Seven
Arriving at the mountain, we began our hike to the summit. Comrade John bewitched us into making the climb with all his talk of the sacred Nine Scenic Views. Not far into the journey, my sister, in the lead with Mae at the time, stopped, for she spotted an antlered beast of the forest! A moose was blocking our path. Well, OK, not *our* path but whatever. Photography ensued, and Comrade John wandered off, apparently trying to make conversation with the four-legged masticator of foliage. Perhaps he was trying to extol upon it the Virtues of the Nine Scenic Views.
One of the Scenic Nine
Then the trail started to get steep. It was at this point that we discovered that Tara is really a mountain lioness in disguise! Before long she was out of sight, leading the pack up the trail. I could not keep up, though I managed to stay ahead of the main pack because I had found a +3 Trusty Stick of Climbocity. We stopped occasionally for a water break, especailly when we had found one of The Scenic Nine.
The Sacred Circular Symbol of the Summit
Before long, we made it to the summit – though not without trials and tribulations, for the convenient yellow marks we’d been following, laid by those who came before, were sometimes not entirely clear. However, we made it to the most sacred yellow mark of all, a cross bound by a circle, a sign that all hikers know means it’s time to sit down, have lunch and enjoy the scenery.
Lunch at the Summit
Having had our lunch and conquered Mount Hedgehog, we began our descent down the other side. Once again, Tara the Mountain Lioness took off; though I took the initial lead because her knee was bothering her plus I had the Immortal Surefooted Stick of Balance, she soon flew past and made good her return to lower ground. At some point I stopped to take pictures of a large green caterpillar of the sort that Timon and Pumbaa would drool over.
Great Green Grubs
Having made it to the bottom I met up with Tara. We chatted for awhile, whereupon we met up with a rather strange fellow who we had seen on our way up. Now that I think about it, it’s strange that we should beat him to the bottom when we’d passed him well before we reached the summit, since he’d been descending at the time. Maybe he met up with the moose and played a round of five card stud or something. Tara gave up her grapes to the stranger.
It rained a quick shower, which was a welcome cool-off. Just as quickly, it stopped. Tara and I played a game of “See Who Can Get A Pebble To Land On The Boulder On The Other Side Of The Path Such That It Doesn’t Bounce Off” – ahh, the classics. By the time our fellow travelers appeared, we tied 1-1.
Suddenly I noticed that something was awry. Ed’s shirt sported a cool new design, a pattern of splotches in red! It turns out that as Ed was descending the path, he came across an innocent-looking fallen tree. As he climbed over the tree, it viciously caused him to lose his balance, and as he fell he grappled with the tree and it fought back by stabbing him upside the head with one of its fearsome inanimate branches. Comrade John burst forth in laughter at the sight of this.
Blood spurted forth, but then the wound was staunched and first aid was rendered. The group made onward with their descent, and eventually caught up to the intrepid leaders. We returned to our campsite, stopping along the way for some chunks of frozen water which we used to make cold the beer. Ed was sent to the hospital by Rob, a trained nurse who examined the wound, where he received 8 stitches and met Lightning Girl.
Meanwhile, back at the campsite, just as we’d decided to head to the beach for some swimmin’, the skies opened upon us. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled and our heads and shoulders were made to be soaked as we abandoned the beach in search of shelter (and beer). Just as discussions were starting to lean towards going somewhere warm and sheltered for dinner, the skies relented and the weather started clearing up.
This was good, because Chef Luke had prepared some meat by soaking it in savory secret sauces. With the help of oil-soaked wood and well-honed fire-building skills we soon had a hot pit of embers that we decided to introduce to the meat. Well-met, the fire and meat made a delicious entree, with a grill along as chaperone to keep things from getting out of hand.
This, along with other dishes from Chef Luke and others of our group, made for an excellent dinner. We also prepared some fire-baked potatoes, though by the time they were ready we’d all eaten our fill. All was well, though, because those potatoes made an excellent item on the breakfast menu the next morninng.
Once again, dinner was over and the main event, the very heart of camping, began – sitting around the campfire and drinkin’ the beers. Apparently some of us who have more advanced skills of comprehension used our +6 Powers of Oddball Conversation to ascend a plane of understanding that left others a little stumped. Imagine a cross between Jedi Mind Powers and the Fremen Weirding Way, and you’re close. A dash of Monty Python gets you closer.
Day 3 – Breakfast and Breakup
This night I used my lessons learned and entered my slumber nestled in the two sleeping bags. Lo and behold, it was almost too warm to fall asleep! (I’m like that, I like it colder when I go to sleep and warmer when I wake). The night was fine, and again I played the weekend morning game of roll-over-and-go-back-to-sleep that I cherish dearly before finally crawling out of my nest. I packed up all my stuff and returned it to my car, leaving only the tent which stayed out so that it could dry as much as possible before I packed it.
Then it was off to The Breakfast Campsite again, and this morning there was a feast! Bacon, eggs, fruit, sausages, toast, fried potatoes and more were enjoyed by all, such service as you would not find in the finest hotel in New York. I helped with the frying and eating of various foods, and afterwards enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate as we made with the cleaning up. We all wandered off to our various sites to pack up our tents and such.
Finally, the sad time came when we all said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I hope that we shall meet again, we intrepid campers and hikers, conquerors of Mount Hedgehog and other mountains of modest effort – although hopefully with less medical care requirements next time, yes?
The weather was beautiful as I drove back. So excellent and sunny, in fact, that I stopped at a Scenic Overlook for a quick nap. I think it was only 10 minutes or so but damn, it felt great. Then back to the Great White North.
It’s a beauty way to go.
Epilogue
On getting home, I pitched my tent on the deck in my back yard so that it might dehydrate and air out. I unfurled my sleeping bags in one of my spare bedrooms for the same purpose.
Epilogue: The Backyard Nest
Here is my camping list, while it is fresh in my mind from these recent journeys, and amended with some items I hadn’t brought but either wish I did or might need next time:
- A big rubbermaid bin to carry the following livingspace-related items
- * Tent and tarp
* Air mattress or foam pad and pump
* Pillow plus case, and perhaps a plastic vacuum-sealable bag to store it in
* Polyester chair
* Screened dome* Lantern
* Fuel
* Matches or lighter
- Another bin and cooler to carry the following nourishment-related items
- * BEER!
* Food and drink as necessary (I brought only beer this trip, as the border guards don’t take kindly to many foods)* Camp stove (uses same fuel as lantern)
* Plastic cutlery, cups, and paper plates
* Garbage and recycling bags
- A backpack to carry the following personal items and gadgetry
- * Clothes
* Toiletries kit
* Sweater
* Rain jacket* Camera
* Book (not that I got the chance to read, we had so much fun)
* GPS for car
* Music for car