Snake Mountain

Ah, another gap in the blog. We've been thrown headlong into summer and I can't keep up. I'm not really sure what's been keeping us so busy, but we have been.

On Wednesday, we went hiking with some friends up Snake Mountain. The above picture is a view looking west from Vermont. Click on it to enlarge. The sliver of water across the photo is Lake Champlain, with the Adirondacks and New York state in the background.

It had rained overnight and the trail was crawling with salamanders:

The kids held up remarkably well and ran part of the way up and most of the way down.

In general, I'm still reeling from having my daughter home on vacation. Her insistence on sleeping only in the pitch dark (maybe 7 hours around this solstice time) means she is overtired and grouchy most of the time. By my edict, only I am allowed to wake up at 5:00, and she doesn't get this. If I can't be alone for the first cup of coffee, I'm off my game for the day. Consequently I am grouchy, too. I suppose the PMS isn't helping....

On the homefront, there are cosmos and peonies and sweet mock orange:

Genevieve has been moved to a large dog crate with an attached fenced yard, for stray-cat protection. Alas, another of her babies died (both Araucanas), bringing her down to four. But the feed store had two leftover barred rocks, which I took home and added to the brood. They fit right in. Pigs and goats and peacocks, and cats 'n rats 'n elephants are all doing fine.

We're getting ready to go on our annual family camping adventure, starting next Friday. I have a love-hate relationship with this event (hate winning by about 85 to 15), but it's a tradition. Every year, my husband's family spends 10 days at a nearby campground. Over the years this has turned into an annual event that must not be missed. Granted, it's paradise for the kids.

A dozen or so cousins can all hang out together and swim in the pool or the lake and go to dances and play on playground and go on hayrides and waste money at the arcade and roast marshmallows and see lame fireworks and all the stuff that goes with a camping vacation. The adults get to hang around at the campsite, picking wet towels off the ground and closing the camper doors that the kids left open, the better to allow all the mosquitoes in. My daughter has been talking about this since January. I have been dreading it for about as long.

For my husband and me, the thrill has worn off. But if we don't go, the kids are devastated. To us, the whole family campground thing is a bit too chaotic, crowded (esp. over the Fourth of July), and less than convenient. You have to walk 100 yards to go to the bathroom and wait in line to take a shower. Not to mention that it's the kind of "vacation" that involves washing your dishes outside and getting bugs in all your food.

But it's a tradition, and so we will go, and we will enjoy hanging out with the family. Because it's only 15 minutes away, we can come home whenever we want to check on the animals and check in with the housesitter and all that.

Since I have nothing else blogworthy to write about, I'll resurrect an old column I wrote about this annual event.  Have a good weekend.

Family Camping Is No Picnic

ã 2003 by Jessie Raymond

In another week, we leave for our annual family camping trip.

I use the term “family camping” to differentiate it from true wilderness camping. Wilderness camping is this bizarre activity where people hike into the woods with little more than a compass and a backpack. Their goal is to get away from civilization and blend in with nature to better experience its raw beauty and peacefulness.

With family camping, you bring civilization into the woods with you, so as to fend off nature’s raw beauty. Sure, nature is pretty and all that, but it’s full of bugs and there’s no place to plug in your fan.

Family camping is not about silence and solitude. It’s about creating a fully equipped home away from home—only outdoors—crammed between the outdoor homes of people you don’t know. (Don’t worry. You will know them, intimately, by the time your vacation is over, as they will be sleeping approximately three feet from you.)

When we first started camping, we slept in a tent. It was a big fancy one with lots of extras, but putting it up without the help of a licensed engineer proved difficult. In retrospect, we shouldn’t have used the 30-page instruction manual for tinder on the tent’s maiden voyage. We thought we’d remember how to do it.

Typical of husbands and wives, our recollections differed as to the sequence of staking corners and inserting unmarked rods into various sleeves. The ensuing rational discussion—during which one or both parties was usually advised to do something unpleasant with a Coleman lantern—invariably ruined our first evening of camping. On the bright side, the campers on either side of us often fled in horror, their hands clamped over their children’s ears. So at least we got some privacy.

The tent wouldn’t have been so bad if we’d had a decent bed. But we slept on an air mattress; a device I suspect was invented by chiropractors to generate summer business. Back in my twenties, when I thought the lumbar region was somewhere in Canada, I could tolerate the air mattress. But as I got older, I learned more about my spine and how vindictive it was. For instance, it resented spending the night on a slowly deflating balloon and ending up flat on the tent floor, with sticks, stones, and spiders poking it from below. In retaliation, it would make me walk like Koko the gorilla for the better part of the morning.

Now that we borrow a friend’s pop-up camper, we argue less and sleep better. But camping is still a lot of work. Just preparing for the trip can take weeks. It’s easier if you have a good packing system, like the one I’ve developed. It goes like this: 1. Make a list of the entire contents of your house and garage. 2. Cross off your three largest appliances, your couch, and your lawnmower. 3. Pack everything else.

It sounds extreme, but you have to remember: A successful family camping trip means getting back to nature without giving up any of the comforts of home. You don’t want to find yourself way out in the woods, hundreds of feet from the nearest convenience store, only to discover that you’ve forgotten the cocktail umbrellas for your frozen margaritas. (You didn’t pack your blender just to make pesto, silly.)

Once the U-Haul is unpacked (by day three, if you work fast), you’ll find out whether you have what it takes for family camping. Do you mind your perishable foods floating in a cooler of ice water? Can you eat more than one s’more without developing tremors? Do you enjoy being awakened just before sunrise by the sound of children racing their Big Wheels?

Purists might argue that family camping—with its hot showers and video arcade—isn’t really camping at all. True, you rarely find bingo parlors deep in the forest. And maybe being able to toast a marshmallow without letting it burst into flames doesn’t really count as a survival skill.

But family camping does, by definition, require spending an entire week with your family. And if that’s not roughing it, I don’t know what is.

Comments

[Jenn]

You SHOULD get an elephant! It's about the only thing you don't have! ;)

BTW, I spotted you on Ravelry and added you as a friend.

[trek]

Number Guy laughed out loud the whole time that I was reading this to him.

Good luck

[Bea]

This cracked me up! I've never been on a family camping trip, a few wilderness trips in college, but I've heard plenty of wistful recollections from my husband and tales of horror from my mother in law. It's always the hardest for the moms I think. Well, maybe since all those other kids and family are there, you can sneak back to your house one of those days and enjoy a few hours to yourself?! 10 days, that's hardcore. May the force be with you.

[Marcia]

Your daughter (and you, by association) is suffering from A.S.S. Adjustment to Summer Syndrome. At our household, it results from the child's mistaken belief that playing with friends outside for a few hours, a few days in a row = emancipation from all rules or parental influence.

It took a couple extra days for it to hit here, but we're suffering a full blown case.

[Mary]

The views on your hike are beautiful. I do not, however, envy the camping trip. Have...fun?

[Valerie]

We did the "group camp" (wasn't family, but friends) thing for a number of years early in our marriage. I was generally miserable for all of the reasons you state. Then we did some backpacking (or what you call wilderness camping)...I love it. There's no pretense of trying to make the camp home away from home. It is what it is...camping. (I hate food in coolers on ice...give me dried food anyday over that soggy mess!)
So...our thoughts go with you on this camp thing.
PS. Reading about your farming exploits makes me think of Barbara Kingsolver's latest book. I think you might like it since her dgtr., Lily, is just ahead of your own in age. (and she develops and egg business!)

[Juliann]

I always laugh when I read stories about family camping like yours. My mother and her best friend would spend at least a month to six weeks in the woods with their kids in several sequential years. The oldest, middle, and youngest children were the same age, so there were 3 sets of twins essentially, ages 7,4,18 months old when we first started camping out. The Daddies helped drive us to the woods, helped set up the tents, and built us an outhouse with a pup tent, a wooden barrel, a toliet seat, and a sack of lime (which the mothers could only use). The daddies went home in one of the cars, and left us there. I have often wondered how the mothers managed to stay sane? But we all had a blast! I remember seeing the mothers sitting in chairs reading and talking, drinking tea, and just hanging out! To this day I prefer primitive camping to the campground type of camping because of these experiences. I don't think it's for everyone, but your daughter will remember the fun she had. And she will have her own traditions to follow, too.

[Marcia Cooke]

So, you're saying that my husband's idea of putting us, our three sons, their wives, and three kids under the age of six on a houseboat in Lake Powell for a week next summer is not such a hot idea?

[Carrie]

I haven't finished reading the column, but I have this question: if home is only 15 minutes away and you need to check on the animals, why not go home for a shower and a child-free cup of coffee? You and DH could do it together and maybe it would give you enough of a break that the rest of it wouldn't seem so bad. If anyone hassles you, you can tell them that you have to check on the chicks, because they're too little to be left alone that long.
Oh yeah, and blackout shades for DD's room. Definitely. And set her clock ahead an hour so if she happens to wake up, 4am is WAY too early...

[chris]

What a great piece!!! It so reminds me of our family camping trips - thanks for sharing it!

[Manise]

Priceless piece! We used to camp every summer in Europe driving from Greece all the way to France via Yugoslavia, Italy and Switzerland in a camper. As we got older my sister and I were put in a pup tent- I hated those air mattresses which also suffered regular bouts of deflation and how about the sheet inside the sleeping bags that would twist around you in the night? Your descriptions are spot on and hilarious! The thought of camping with my family of 5 leaves me with a twitch above one eye and a shuddering.

[Carol]

And I thought it was just us! Camp on woman!

[Marie]

Wow, salamanders in the wild! They are so delightful and so beautifully colored!
Good luck with the camping! (Gotta love those gradually deflating air mattresses...whatever do the companies do for QC?)

[yvette]

Good luck with the camping, I hate camping, ick. I too am grumpy if I don't get peace and quiet to come around in the morning, have you tried blackout curtain lining to keep it dark in the morning, I used to peg a big piece over the curtain rail, worked for my boys, as 5am is way too early to be sociable!

[Rebecca Leonard]

I don't envy you one bit. We have an annual family gathering in July and I'm dreading it. Mom's 84 so we'll keep it going for her. I think she dreads it, too, doesn't want to say it out loud. We've narrowed it down to a week and no longer rent camps together, which helps. My oldest brother always wants to stretch his stay a few days longer. He just doesn't get it. Oh well, life goes on. Good luck with your trip!

[Debi]

Your salamanders took me back to the summers of my youth in upstate New York.

Great, funny post :)

[Maia]

Salamanders! So cute!

The picture of the two kids in the field is precious!

I hope you survive the camping trip and that your daughter decides to sleep a little later. There is something sacred about the moments we get to ourselves. Maybe you need to put her on a treadmill or a trampoline to wear her out more.

Farm animals on a trampoline! I haven't seen that yet. Hey, it is just an idea.

[Kristen]

Too funny, too true!

[JessaLu]

I've been trying to think up something encouraging to say for five minutes - I've got nuthin'. Hang in there... ;o)

[Libby]

I think I just wet my pants.

I'll have to post a blog about the difference between camping Mr. Man-style and camping my style.

I was horrified when we got to the "campground" with Mr. Man's family a couple of weeks ago, and NOBODY was sleeping in a tent. I'd never ever EVER even been IN a trailer before, and now they wanted me to "CAMP" in one. With a microwave and a stove and a bathroom.

I was totally lost.

[Dorothy B]

Amen and pass the salsa!

[Andrea]

Neat salamanders. "Family camping" sounds like a true survival trial. ;)

[lisa]

Oh, that's pretty funny!!! I used to do the wilderness camping thing, even in winter...but now it doesn't hold the same appeal. And I feel the same way as you about getting ready for these events. Close quarters with lots of extended family? I'm good at about 2-3 days! (I just posted a pic of my dh... yours in some of your pics looks much like him, in others not so much).

[Birdsong]

I am roaring with laughter! We did a few family reunion camping trips and luckily nobody raved about them and we are now over that. Plus, we were far enough into the mountains that our camping experiences rarely involved other surrounding campers. I also love backpacking, though my 50+ year old back is starting to protest. Funny, all the (grown) kids still love to go themselves... though no Uhauls allowed. I will be beaming good thoughts, and do agree... go home a few times and either soak in a hot bath or prop up your feet with a good, quiet class of wine before returning to Camp Chaos.

[joyce]

omg! your pictures are absolutely stunning. can this drought-stricken southerner please come for a visit to a world where there is still color and little critters emerge after rain showers? i think all the color has been leached out of our desicated landscape down here. seeing these pictures almost made me cry!