Camping: It’s Time

As it stands–or shall I say sits–I am at my parents’ house now, relaxing after a family dinner–sans Mike and Erin–of salad, lasagna, and red wine–excellent Italian red wine:  Villa Pillo.  Thank you, mom and dad; this is one of the infinite reasons why they are awesome.

On their porch, the veranda as they call it, are a few Amish-made chairs and one of them looks similar to an Adirondack chair.


My life, well part of it, has been driven by life in the outdoors and everything pertaining to the environment.  Old Forge–aside the two trips to Disney World–was a favorite family vacation, and we did it annually.   The two hours always felt longer, but as time passed and my brother and I got older–similarly to many other car trips–the less of an ordeal the rides were.

My mom’s side of the family camped in that neck of the woods.  My father highly enjoyed the outdoors, fishing and camping.  With their interests combined, it was inevitable that my brother and I would take a liking to camping.  It would either be willingly or forced down our throats.  Luckily, it wasn’t the latter.


{Clark Reservation — Syracuse, New York}

The great outdoors was such an integral part of my childhood, and it still is presently.  We kids around the neighborhood would venture into the nearby woods to hang out, build forts, and create controlled havok.  The woods was ours; we owned it.  It may not have been monetary ownership, but it was ownership generated by usage.  When parts of the woods were deforrested, we did not have to worry about taking the blame for that.

The cutting down of trees really bothered me.  In fourth grade, the class had to do some project about change/fixing the environment.  My initial picture was of eliminating the houses being built (that’s right, Buxton, I am talking about you) and planting more trees.  My mother said this was impossible, and asked me to venture into a more realistic scenario.  I don’t remember what the final product was; however, if my memory serves me, it dealt with the clean up of Onondaga Lake.  Still, I was passionate about taking down the houses.

I was not cool with that shit.  Those people could live elsewhere.  That was our kingdom the builders were destroying.

*               *               *


{On the Bubb Lake / Sis Lake Trail — Adirondack Mountains}

I love that picture.

The movie, The Great Outdoors, is one of my favorite movies. Granted, it is not one of the best movies as it has a very hokey quality to it; however, John Hughes produced it.  The late John Candy, an actor who I can never get enough of, is hysterical as as always.  If I could give the guy a hug, I would.   It’s a feel good movie to warm oneself up for camping, and it’s a great due to reflect on camping experiences past.

One of my favorite quotes from the movie:

“Hotdogs!  You know what they make those things out of, Chet?  You know?  Lips and assholes.”  – Dan Aykroyd as Roman

This is going to sound dumb, but it doesn’t really matter to me, but I was hoping to meet some girl camping.  Hey, if Buck can meet a girl while camping–why, that would be swell.  We could start a summer romance, and we could keep in touch over the summers, and etcetera.  However, my family’s camping excursions were never longer than three days, the chances of me being able to run off alone to develop said relationship were slim to none–more so none–and, let’s face it, if you have read my previous posts you know darn well that I am a coward.

This post was written earlier this year, so revisit it at WordPress or at Blogger.  I don’t know why, but a lot of my posts and their formatting got screwed up.  It may be easier to read on Blogger.

There was this one summer where, while in Inlet, conversation developed between myself and this girl at the ice cream shop.  Of course, my parents–despite knowing their unwillingness to let me roam the vicinity alone–encouraged me to talk to her.  Yet, despite my cowardice, it was sooooooooo not cool that my parents were around.  They were crimping my style–whatever the fuck that was.  At least this thought deemed me as a normal teenager.  A friend of mine, Catie, who spent most of her time in the summer in the Adirondacks, knew this said ice cream shop worker.  However, despite my asking and her willingness to introduce me at some point, nothing flourished.


{The Guys on Bald Mountain in 2005}

This is clearly my opinion, but I think camping is a necessary activity.  Camping and hiking are relaxing. It’s different than going to a beach and relaxing.  You can rent a cabin, or you can pitch a tent in a facility with a bathroom–if you feel its necessary–or you can pitch a tent anywhere.  Well, not just anywhere.  Maybe your family has a camp for everyone to utilize, and maybe you want to strive for one in your future.  Hell, you can always rent.

I don’t have any kids, so I am no expert.  However, I want to give them as many options in life as I can.  Maybe they will like camping, or maybe they will not.  They could have a strong dislike for it, but grow into it.

I’m also the fool who bought a six-foot-high six-person tent.  It’s technically my castle.

It’s been a great streak with camping in my life.  It’s time to dust off and air out the equipment!

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