Camping is the New Hartford Hilton

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Camping.

The trip was AMAZING. It had its ups and downs, for sure, but to be honest, I wish I was back there now. I wish we could have just stayed there... FOREVER.

Some random quotes:

“I think I peed on my leg.”

“I am so horny right now.” “What do you think this is?? BROKEBACK?”

“If you complain about one more thing, I’m going to throw you over this cliff.”

“This hotdog tastes funny.” “Like what?” “Smoke.” “Really? That’s weird since you are cooking it directly over a CAMPFIRE.”

“These hand wipes make my hands smell like a Port-A-Potty.”

“Can you swim in the CT river? Or do you come out radioactive?”

“I need a martini.”

Friday night, we packed feverishly and tried to remember everything we anticipated we would need for 2 days in the woods. It wasn’t easy. You have to think about plates, soap to wash said plates, enough water to wash the plates, tent essentials, sleeping bags, the right clothes, firewood, food, the list goes on. We felt rushed to make sure we got there in time to set up camp before the sun went down. At first, we couldn’t find the place. We called and there was no answer at the campground. NO ANSWER. That’s weird, right? Thankfully, we found a golfer in Northfield, MA, who had set up his own driving range on state-owned land and he helpfully told us to get back on route 2 and look for the sign. We did, eventually, and we found it. However, what we didn’t find was someone to register us and give us the key to our campsite. We drove around some more, looking for the “office” and when we finally did, it was barred off by gates and no one was around. We began to panic. The sun was setting. We drove back to the campground and saw a younger guy washing the bathrooms. We asked him how to find the park ranger. “Oh, that’s me!” Great... can you take the plastic gloves off and get us registered before there isn’t a scrap of daylight left?

Our site was awesome. So private and perfect. We set up camp and discovered that M brought the world’s smallest tent—by accident. So small, in fact, that he said the queen size air mattress he bought wouldn’t fit inside it. I said, just try it, because everything in camping world is miniature. Nope. He wasn’t gonna budge. He said it wouldn’t fit. So first things first: A big fucking brawl where we decided that one or both of us was going to have to go back home. Or die. We took a breather and some time apart. What we didn’t have that we really needed at this point... was alcohol. We made a fire and ate smores instead. I hit the ground early—around 9:45pm and hoped for the best. It was freezing cold. And the ground was hard. I sent a picture of myself to Caitlin, who returned a text saying I looked like the Blair Witch, which in turn made me freak out a little bit. And I was already done with camping.

I woke up that morning and no lie—every bone in my body HURT. M jumped up at the sound of a rustling on our open food on the wooden picnic table. I thought it was a bear. It was, in fact, a crow. I tried to stretch but my shoulders hurt. I remember waking up during the night at one point and thinking, GOD, WHY IS IT STILL DARK? CAN’T IT BE TIME TO WAKE UP YET? PLEASE! (and never in my life have I thought that before) We finally got out of the tent at 7am. You unzip the tent and there, right in front of you are the trees and the water and the sound of waves and birds. I had to admit, it felt nice. M made some packed freeze-dried eggs and bacon. Just add water and cook on the gas stove. They weren’t half bad. They weren’t half good either, but that’s besides the point.

We packed a lunch and headed over to rent a canoe by 8:30am. I honestly will always remember that day. The sun was perfect. The weather was cool, but nice and sunny. And we rowed our asses off. There are two bald eagles that set up a nest on one of the islands that you can plainly see from the water. You cant go on the island b/c its blocked off as a Wildlife Research sanctuary, but the eagles were a beautiful site that early in the morning. M tried to fish but didn’t have any luck. We were bombarded a few times with waves from the speedboats, but we did ok. I learned that you have to face the waves and that turned out to be pretty fun. I also ate my peanut butter sandwich at 9am, which was interesting. Ever tried to get a peanut butter sandwich down your throat that early in the morning? Well, it aint easy. But I needed the fuel to row. We stopped to dock near a sandy beach area and took our shoes off and just waded around. I laid with my feet in the water reading Reader’s Digest and M waded off shore with his pole. I had never felt so relaxed. It was calming and peaceful. The cove was truly beautiful.

We didn’t head back until around 1pm and we decided to find a liquor store. Ever have X-Rated Pink Vodka? CUZ YOU WILL HAVE TO TRY THAT SHIT. M said it tasted like turpentine. I say it tastes like vodka with grapefruit extract in it. SO EFFING GOOD. I only got to try a nip of it but it was awesome. I’m bringing it to Montauk. If I can find it anywhere...

The rest of the day, we relaxed, we ate good. We hiked. We checked out the rest of the campground. We visited a Port-O-Potty the size of my mom’s house. We drove into town to get ice cream for dinner. We def recommend it. But make sure you request site 18 or 22. The others aren’t so private. We decided to give the air mattress a shot. Otherwise, we’d have to go home early. There was no way we could make it one more night on the ground. So M put it in there and HELLO. FIT LIKE A GLOVE. I wanted to hit him with it. But really, I was just happy to stay another night. Make some more smores and make a hotdog over the fire on a real live stick. I woke up Sunday morning to M on my left and a daddy long legs on the right. But at least my back didn’t KILL.

In all, I was surprised by how much fun it was. And now I have the craving to go again. Especially since the weather was chilly this weekend and so it makes me confident I could go in the fall. It cost us $18 a night to camp and about $200 in supplies, $25 to rent the canoe for the day, and prob another $60 for beer, stopping for ice cream, etc. But the thing is, now that we have the supplies, we would just need to spend money on the site itself and food. Everything else, well, you can just wing it. Because that’s what camping is really about. Making the best of what you have and just relaxing. I needed it and I’m so glad we went.

This coming wkd is Montauk, which will be much more high maintenance but hopefully, just as fun. As long as a certain someone doesn’t get on my nerves and push me too hard. Otherwise, you will find me on the lam, somewhere warm, in Mexico.