Camping: It's moments like these...

by Jim  Bessey

Two boys just hangin' out at our campsite (Holiday Hill Camping Resort)

Sometimes I wonder why we go camping at all. It's no cheaper, anymore, than staying at a local motel. At $4 per gallon and 10 MPG when I'm towing, we can't really afford the long excursions we'd once planned. So we end up camping less than an hour from home. We eat cheap food and drink bland coffee. Feels like we spend almost half of our vacation time hooking up, driving, then setting up camp.

So why bother going camping?

For moments like these. This was fall of '09. My wife was working. Me an' the boys headed out for an impromptu trip to one of our all-time favorite campgrounds, Holiday Hill near Springwater NY. We didn't have reservations and our preferred sites were already taken. After having a look at what was available, we decided to take a shady, stony campsite back in the woods.

The weather was mild for August--hot in the sunshine but chilly overnight. The campground was fairly quiet, until the DJ showed up on Saturday afternoon. For some reason, none of us felt like swimming. We spent most of our time there just hangin' out together. We played Frisbee® games, listened to music, and read our books.

Meals were camp-simple: hot dogs, burgers, PB&J, or cereal. We left the TV at home. I'm not even sure if we bothered to bring the laptop. Though we probably hiked a bit, we didn't join any volleyball games or spend any time fishing in the ponds. We just hung out.

It was wonderful, and seeing that picture cycle-up on my laptop screen-saver brought it all back in an instant. My kids are nearly grown. One just finished his freshman year at St. John Fisher College. The younger one is becoming an excellent driver. They both have sports and friends and MP3 players and Facebook pages. But when we go camping, all of that goes by the wayside. It's just us, tossing a Frisbee and talking about stuff.

We sat by the campfire that Saturday night, slightly annoyed by the music from the nearby pavilion. We listened to the breeze in the trees, heard the crickets and bullfrogs around us, and fetched jackets as the temps fell after sunset. I finished the book I'd brought with me and grabbed another from the "take one" bookshelf at the camp store. I laughed when I realized it was one I'd read before.

And I remember looking around me with a smile, as time stood still there for awhile. We would be packing up Sunday morning to head home; but for those few hours the rest of the world didn't matter much. For a whole evening, our world was just the three of us comfortable in our camp chairs and happy just to be together. Those are the moments...
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Why do you go camping? Do you really save any money? Or is it all about something deeper? If you have any special moments from your camping trips, you can share them here. I'll be outside getting our camper ready for the new season, almost here now.

If you had to, could you live in your camper? Think about it...

by Jim Bessey

It's when you're safe at home that you wish you were having an adventure. When you're having an adventure you wish you were safe at home. ~Thornton Wilder

Camping pool-side at Holiday Hill

What if you lost your house? Could you move into your camper as a fall-back? As we enter Year Two of The Great Recession, this isn't just an idle, round-the-campfire question. When my wife was laid-off last Christmas, we wondered how we would ever pay our $1,000+ monthly mortgage. After all, we'd been spending both of our incomes; how would we get by without her half? What if we had to move out of our home?

Were we only joking when we said, "well, we can always live in our camper"?

First, let me be clear -- this ain't no Class A Motorhome. We have a 30-year-old Shasta trailer, bought used for less than a grand and lovingly restored by all four of us. It's about 19 feet long -- counting the hitch!. Compared to our 2,000 square-foot house, it's a closet. When we're camping, it's quite comfy; but could we live in it full-time?

We do, however, have a kitchen, dining area, living room/pull-out bedroom, and a teeny tiny bathroom with a "bathtub." 

Let's talk about space.

As modern camping trailers go, ours is at the "cramped quarters" end of the spectrum. The actual floor space measures 15' by 7 1/2' for a total of just over 100 square feet. For comparison, our one-car garage is three times that size. (The trailers that FEMA supplies to disaster victims are about twice as big as ours.) We do, however, have a kitchen, dining area, living room/pull-out bedroom, and a teeny tiny bathroom with a "bathtub." We have a lot of cabinet space, considering, but only one closet. My wife would have to "adjust" to that one!

We're talking a distinct lack of amenities here.

We don't have any air-conditioning, though we do have a toasty gas furnace. We boast neither built-in radio nor flat-screen TV; we don't subscribe to Satellite TV. Our only counter space is created by covering the 4-burner stove with a Formica slab. While we do have a booth and a couch, we have no chairs inside at all. Our chairs fold up and slide into canvas bags. When we hang out, it's generally under out camper's roll-out awning, or by the campfire.

No way we could stay here in upstate NY over the winter...

And there are some serious practical considerations, too.

We can't park our rig just anywhere. We replaced our original dual-power fridge (DOA) with an electric one from Home Depot. We've never used our holding-tank water supply. We need hook-ups! That leaves out Free Parking at Wal-Mart. If we wanted to bum around, camping in our friends' or relatives' driveways, most places prohibit that, except for a weekend stay. So much for that idea.

fall evening by the campfire, at KOA

We could have a lovely summer staying at our favorite campground, for about $1,200 (seasonal rate). But that only covers about one third of the year. No way we could stay here in upstate NY over the winter, heater or not. We'd have to move South. As long as at least one of us has a job, that would make getting to work a tad inconvenient.

So what's the real answer?

We'd wake up with the sun, and go to bed earlier.

I think we could do it, for a few months -- and not in winter. We'd save a ton of money, and just have to put up with the tight quarters and lack of luxuries. As long as the weather was decent, we'd spend most of our free time outdoors. We'd have campfires all the time! (Would I get tired of them? Hope not.)

We would spend more time talking to each other, listening to the radio, and reading books. Unless, of course, we decided to spring for a dish. Most campgrounds we like have Wi-Fi, so we could stay in touch with our online friends. We'd wake up with the sun, and go to bed earlier.

I know, I know...sounds sort of idyllic, doesn't it? I'm sure we'd get on each others' nerves long about Week 2. It'd probably rain even more than it usually does. But we'd have a roof over our heads.   There's no place like home...
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 Have you ever tried living in your camper? I'm sure some of you big-rig owners do it for a few months out of the year. Anybody else? Could you, if you had to?

Happy Camping Thanksgiving: 9 things I am thankful for

by Jim Bessey, editor

The boys relax at our final fall campsite at KOA Canandaigua

 Sometimes, amid the rush to get the trailer hooked up and hit the road, I forget how lucky we are to be able to take off and enjoy the great outdoors and the company of family and friends. I spent a few minutes today reflecting on our good fortune.

• I'm thankful my wife is willing to go camping with me, and that she inspired the search for our little Shasta camper.
• I'm thankful that my youngest son has been willing to sleep in the "loft" these past few years, with only a minor complaint now and then. What a trooper!
• I'm thankful that my oldest is the greatest high-design campfire builder in the Northeast. His fires are works of art -- and hot, too!
• I'm thankful that God invented all sorts of wonderful trees, so that our campfires might burn with a myriad of delightful colors and scents. I like cherry best.
• I'm thankful that we have friends who like camping just as much as we do.
• I'm thankful that we can still afford the gas to haul our trailer to the campground, even at $3 per gallon. Good thing there are nice camping resorts close to home.
• I'm thankful that some campgrounds have Wi-Fi -- and that some don't.
• I'm grateful to whomever invented the roll-out awning. Shade and shelter in two minutes -- what a concept.
• And finally, I'm thankful to all the wonderful people who spend their summers running campgrounds -- so we have really nice places to go, with clean restrooms and cool game rooms and mini-golf and stuff.

Happy Thanksgiving to all our camping friends and campground hosts. Thank you all!
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  What have I forgotten? I'd be grateful for your thoughts on Thanksgiving and camping. Anybody having turkey dinner at the table in a motorhome this year?

How do you relax? "We like camping better!"

There comes a point when you know that Camping Season has arrived at last. Today, a week before Memorial Day Weekend, that moment happened. We've had three consecutive Perfect Camping Nights (no rain, no wind, low sixty or better). What's more, those balmy nights all happened leading into a weekend. This would indeed have been a Perfect Camping Weekend -- a rarity in Upstate New York.

We're not camping this weekend. We rarely get out before the first holiday of summer; and we hardly expect the weather to cooperate anyway. Still, the smell of maple logs burning lingers in the morning air. The sound of last night's peepers has transformed to the chirp of the summer birds in the trees around my balcony deck. I spent the first minutes of the morning in a sun-dappled shade with a cup of coffee and a good book.

A couple of weeks back, Rex Trulove, a senior editor for Helium.com, asked our group for our thoughts on "how do you relax?" Here's how it went between us:

[Rex wrote] I think I know what Jim's answer will be to this one, but it shouldn't really be hard for anyone.

To totally unwind and relax, what is your special escape? Everyone has a special one, reading, gardening, traveling, or whatever.

For me, it is camping. I go to a primitive site (no out houses, showers, or other amenities) and park my rear end for a few days. I walk around, I talk to the animals, I explore, I sit in front of the campfire and stare into the flames, and all without the TV, DVD, VCR, Computer, or any other electronic gadget. The closest I get to electronic is the car, which is mostly used to get us there and home.

I don't even carry a watch. I can usually tell by within a half hour, what time it is by looking at the sun.

I have a lot of hobbies, but my escape is camping. I calm down and everything starts to make sense again. Unfortunately, in 2007 I went camping 13 times, and since moving here, I've gone camping 3 times in three years (counting the upcoming trip).


We had some interesting replies from the gang at Helium. Angie mentioned horseback riding and boating. Kat talked about reading, rosary beads, and the beach. Rachel loses herself in editorial work, mentoring, and playing the guitar.The whole group agreed that "the beach" should figure in the answer, somewhere.

I chimed in, eventually:

"Of course, you know how much I love camping. I've also written, here at Helium, about a perfect Sunday morning at home -- the solitude of dawn, when the rest of the household is still asleep. While those Sunday mornings can be productive times, they are often best spent deep in the pages of a good book, too.

"Camping allows me to put all the pieces together: a quiet weekend morning, my family sleeping peacefully, a battery-powered radio playing a bit of country music at background volume, a hot cup of coffee, and time to read a few dozen pages uninterrupted. If I reach a point where the book might be set aside, that's also the perfect time to write. A couple of my favorite articles were penned in just that way.

"The only part I haven't been able to bring to the mix is a beach. The sound of waves and gulls is one of the most soothing noises a person can enjoy. I'll have to work on finding a campground with something bigger than a fishing pond.

"The best part of these morning camping moments of solitude is that they always end pleasantly. The kids wake up and want to go for a hike, or toss the Frisbee. My wife hustles up some "cheesy eggs" and toast. The sun bursts over the treeline, and the rest of the campground comes to life. The day will pass quickly, and we'll be tired by evening. Our eyelids will get very heavy by the flickering light of our campfire. And soon enough, we'll pack up and head back to our hectic reality."

Rex wrapped it up this way:

Jim, I knew what your response would be, because we are so much alike.

Most everyone knows I get up around 4 am every morning. Fewer know that it is mostly from camping. That is usually an hour or so before it starts getting light. That gives me time to build a nice hot fire, make some coffee, and get comfy so that when the life starts returning to the forest and steam is rising up from the water, I'm parked in a chair, witnessing it all. The sun is usually shining brightly before everyone else gets up, so it is my special magical time, just for me, and the nature around me.

More than once, the wife has gotten up when the first rays of the sun were licking at the tent, to find me sitting happily, sipping my cup of coffee, and with a stringer already full of fish. She thinks I'm half crazy. I've been working for years to convince her that I'm not half way.

Crazy? Not a bit. As my good friend Raymond always notes: "We like camping better!"

copyright 2010 - reprints on request

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How do you relax? A chair and a book by the beach? An IPod and a long drive? A horseback ride through a mountain meadow? What works for you?

What's YOUR first sign of spring? For us, it's the arrival of summer!

[Back on March 1st, I heralded the arrival of spring with a post about the Camping World 300. At the time, we had just finished suffering our last blizzard of 2010. Since then, we've had a snow-free March (first ever) and broken two decades-old high-temp records with new highs near 90 degrees. ]

With the early arrival of summer in Upstate NY, what signs did we have that spring was here?

Before spring began, right after our big snow, I asked my Facebook friends what they saw as "first signs of spring." Julie Sawyer Helms offered, "crocus!" and Becca Badgett added "...Helleborus budding and daffodils pushing through the soil!"

Suzanne Ormond mentioned the ever-popular robin. Doreen Martel saw some blue jays. Carroll Jean Yorgey went out for a walk and didn't want to come back. Glory Lennon and Janet Collinge lent observations and discussion. Tracy McKay brought in her cat, shedding hair all over the place. Donna Carroll Batton claims that "Dairy Queen opening" brings spring for her. Teresa Depoy agreed that the sound of baby birds was a sure sign of spring.

As I'd noted earlier, the arrival of NASCAR's Nationwide and Sprint Cup races puts me in the springtime mood. Even better, however, is the end of the snow and the beginning of truly warm days. Some years, I've watched the Masters Tournament (PGA), feeling wildly jealous of the brilliant shades of green and the blossoming flowers. This year we've already had days correctly described as HOT; and everything here is blooming early.

Certainly, spring has arrived disguised as summer, here in western NY. Much earlier than usual, we've attacked both front and back gardens. The daffodils and tulips are surging skyward, already in bloom. It's time to mow the lawn. Last week we came this close to seeing our first couple of Perfect Camping Nights -- two degrees warmer overnight, and we'd have marked them down.

What's my one and only, "it's really spring now" sign of spring? The arrival of RV's on the road! I'm not sure where they're going, since the campgrounds aren't open yet, but for me that does it. Seeing a big old Class A motorhome rolling down the highway gets my camping blood pumping. The campers are OUT! That's when I know it's really spring.

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Is there one sure sign of the season, unique to your world? Robins or campers? NASCAR? Warm days? What works for you?

240-plus days, and still no snow in Rochester

Where's our snow, anyway?

Summer's long since over, and winter is nearly here, yet we still have no snow in Western New York. In fact, we've had no measurable accumulation since last April, over 240 days ago. That has to be some kind of record for this area.

It's been an exceptional year for camping, with nearly EIGHTY Perfect Camping Nights recorded from April to September. September was spectacular, if a bit chilly at times, with very little rain. All the area campgrounds shut down in mid-October, as the nights stayed cool and the leaves finally fell. With a bit of cold-weather gear and judicious use of our Coleman furnace, we could have done weekend overnights right up through this weekend. The sun's shining today, with temp's in the low 40's.

Our typical upstate NY November brings freezing rain, biting breezes, bitter late night temperatures, and snow before Thanksgiving. Not this year. Maybe it's Global Warming. Or maybe winter is lurking nearby, rubbing it's frosted hands together in malicious glee and planning a devastating surprise attack. The local ski areas aren't pleased with the current climate, I'm sure. White Christmas? Hope so.

At any rate, for we Northerners the regular camping season is done. Did you properly winterize your camper? Or did you make sure your tent is nice and dry, and stored in a protected spot? I have a couple of good articles saved around here somewhere, from the RV.net Blog. One has tips for winterizing and the other offers some advice for maintaining your camper's awning(s). I'll see if I can't dig those up and get them posted for you. That site is an amazing resource for RV-ers, especially.

Had a thought about winterizing for you, too. Do you cover your camper for the winter? Store it somewhere else for the season? Garage it? Mine sits stoic in the side yard, with the windows cranked tight, tires on planks, battery stowed indoors and the water system completely drained. Seems to weather the worst of winter fairly well. Just wondering what other campers do in preparation for the long winter's night. I'll see if I can find those other articles.

Photo: Erie Canal widewaters area near Newark, NY, earlier this fall (JCB)

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How do you winterize? Leave your comments here.

Our one-month summer, nearly done now

We had 24 Perfect Camping Nights in August!

And now August makes way for September, cooler nights, and back to school. What a month it was, though! Of the 31 days, barely a week of them in total failed to qualify for camping perfection. We won't talk about July, which resembled late spring far more than mid-summer. We didn't get out as much as we wanted to in August, but did enjoy every gorgeous summer evening, camping or not.

We three boys managed to sneak our camper into a wooded site at Holiday Hill, near Springwater NY, on a very busy August weekend. All of our "usual" spots were taken, so we found a new -- and very nice -- place to camp. There were less than ten available sites when we arrived, and we liked this one the best.

We never got to Holiday Hill last year, when gasoline peaked at over $4 per gallon. Instead, we stayed much closer to home at the Canandaigua KOA. The Hill is one of our favorites, just because. Maybe it's the secluded but popular location; maybe it's the people (though HH has new owners this year); maybe it's the great swimming pool. Some places just 'feel right,' and this is one of them.

Our new site was in the brighter section of the woods, near the Froggy Pond, and still close to all the amenities. The boys spent some time in the game room, and later at the pavilion for a musical event. It was a bit cloudy and cool for swimming, so we didn't get wet. Plenty of other campers jumped in during the afternoon. We played mini-golf instead.

Night arrived suddenly, back there in the trees. We spent some time reading, until we couldn't see anymore, then just hanging out together by a roaring fire. We forgot to bring marshmallows. The mosquitoes left us alone, though; so that was a relief.

Of course that weekend trip was over too quickly, as any good camping outing always is. No sense complaining. We've had a decent summer of short camping vacations. Got lucky back in July with a rain-free weekend at the nearby KOA for our first trip. Our journey to Sackets Harbor was sopping wet, but the weather turned sunny on arrival. Late July found us in Mexico NY at the Jellystone campground with a whole batch of good friends -- another lucky, sunny weekend. The fireworks, for Oswego's Harbor Festival, were incredible as always.

We have one more trip in the books, for the Labor Day weekend. We've always loved the Dansville Balloon Festival, and camping is the way to spend some quality time there. The current forecast is excellent, although the nights are already seeing temp's dropping down below 50 degrees. Last year's festival was ruined by horrid weather; we didn't even make it a day-trip and most of the vendors gave up and went home. Fingers crossed for this year.

Soon enough, it'll be time to switch to day hikes and photo-tours of the fall foliage. Just don't rush me, okay?
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How about you? Do you have a campground story you'd like to share? If you'd like to submit your review for posting, you can reach me via Comments or by using the link at the top of this page.

Please don't hate me, but I simply must share this camping tip with you

From the file marked "things that make you say hmmm..."

Over the preceding months I've tried to offer you some helpful camping tips, along with other related articles, pictures and stories. In addition, down the page a ways in the sidebar, I've linked to a number of blogs of similar theme. I've found these blogs and lots of great article ideas by subscribing to a Google Alert for "camping tips."

Every day I get a nifty email from Google listing all sorts of interesting postings from around the world that are somehow related to camping tips. Sometimes the relation is tenuous at best, with the words "camping" and "tips" separated by other words that veer off into unrelated topics. These alerts are always informative and often entertaining.

Some days one or two of the offered snippets leaves me scratching my head. Today was one of those days. Rather than scratch my head some more and risk further hair loss, I've decided (just this one time) to share the puzzling text with you. Perhaps you, better than me, can fathom its meaning.

Here's the snippet included in today's camping tips alert (all links omitted):

Go camping predominantly. The pre-eminent mode to grasp the bodily is to spread out not numerous days camping together. And what can be more affectionate then sitting together approach tense close axe and watching the flames?

I sincerely detect a wonderful tip for romantic camping here. It's in there somewhere. Granted, it's only a snippet of the original posting, so other contextual clues might be missing. I do love grasping bodily and watching the flames. However, the whole "tense close axe" concept has me concerned.

Okay, maybe I'm being mean. I realize that the Internet is indeed a "world wide" web. For some, our befuddling language presents translation challenges. Still, this camping tip hints at well-intended and thoughtful insight. If I could understand the author's intent, I'd be happy to link to the original post.

Ideas, anyone?

Posted by Jim, who really isn't a mean person.
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Can you help me translate the quoted camping tip? Your Comments always welcome.

Starlight, a campfire, and a good book: Heaven

Camping offers us the chance to get away from our regular routine -- the mailbox and bills, email, household chores, the telephone and television -- whatever we choose to leave behind. We spend time with family and friends just talking, playing games, fishing, playing volleyball, swimming, hiking, and grilling food outdoors.

By the end of a good day at the campground the kids are exhausted and the grown-ups can gather around a campfire under a starlit sky. Heaven. Daytime's little breezes and noises die down in the darkness, and the night-bug chorus harmonizes with the sputter and crackle of burning logs.

Eventually, usually before midnight, those gathered around the fire stretch and yawn dramatically. Cloth chairs get stowed; trash goes into the embers; the bottles and cans are tossed into the bin for recycling.

"Whew, I'm beat. See you in the morning," is the parting consensus.

If I'm not too awfully tired, this is the time when I reach for whatever novel I'm reading at the time. I've got a big iron shepherd's crook I can stick in the ground next to my favorite chair. It holds the gas Coleman lantern at just the right height above my right shoulder.

Then I find the page where I left off, settle into my comfy canvas chair, and spend a solitary half hour escaping even farther from daily life into someone else's world. Beside me the lantern hisses softly. By now the campfire is a pulsing blend of orange and gray, with only an occasional quiet crackle. Surrounding campsites are silent and mostly dark. Makes it very easy to disappear into a well-written story for a while.

For me, that's the perfect ending to a good day. I'd never head for the campground without a good book from one of my favorite authors. Here's a review of the novel I just finished reading yesterday.

Book reviews: The Hard Way, by Lee Child

There's a line in Lee Child's tenth Jack Reacher novel, "The Hard Way," that sums things up perfectly:

"Reacher, alone in the dark. Armed and dangerous. Invincible" [page 420]

Former US Army MP Major Jack Reacher has been wandering among us for eleven years now, since "The Killing Floor" from 1997. Lee Child's debut novel and first in this series, earned both the Anthony and Barry Awards for Best First Novel.

Reacher is a tough guy to know, much less to love. But he's the one person you'd want by your side in a showdown; that much is certain.

The man travels light:

"...Reacher had long ago quit carrying things he didn't need. There was nothing in his pockets except paper money and an expired passport and an ATM card and a clip-together toothbrush. There was nothing waiting for him anywhere else, either..."

Read more

copyright 2009 - all rights reserved
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How about you? Do you have a favorite novel you'd like to share? What do you like to do at the end of a long day camping? Drop me a line via Comments or by using the link at the top of this page.

Finally: Our first Perfect Camping Night of 2009!

Suddenly, with very little warning, the camping season has arrived in Upstate NY. Tonight marks our very first (only slightly late) Perfect Camping Night. It's dead-calm and 69 degrees outside, after a week that started with heavy rains and temp's in the thirties.

This morning it was barely 40 degrees. Then the sun came out and Summer displaced a dreary drizzly spring just like that. I'm ready to go hook up our camper in the dark and head for the nearest KOA right now.

Last year was stunning, and the season started even earlier with five 80-degree days beginning on the 18th of April. By the end of October we'd had more than eighty "PCN's." Ironically, very few of them occurred when we were actually camping. Yeah, go figure.

For those who don't mark and count every PCN as I do, here's a refresher. Perfect Camping Nights almost always follow on the heels of a (wait for it) Perfect Camping Day. Temperature matters: anything under 60 degrees overnight is a no-go. The night must be perfectly still, with nary a whisper of a breeze. Audio effects supplied by crickets, pond-dwellers and cicadas are required. Of course, no rain is allowed, despite the fact that rain and camping seem more closely entwined than peanut butter and jelly.

I suppose that sounds a little obvious, after all. But those nights, those perfect under-the-stars nights, are rare enough -- even when we can count 80 of them -- that each must be treasured. Our weather here is so desperately fickle, so fiendishly temperamental, that the magical "I hate to head for bed at all" nights have to be savored.

What do you need to properly honor a perfect camping night?

First, you need a reasonably quiet campsite, so you can hear the night sounds. A snug camper or tent, with little more than a night-light left on is a must. A couple of exhausted sleeping kids helps the ambiance. Your sweetheart should be there to share the evening with you; one or two good friends who can tell a decent joke helps, too.

What else? An orange-coals glowing fire, punctuated by the occasional snap and crackle of expiring logs, is critical. Depending on your taste, an icy-cold beer or a steaming mug of camp coffee should be at hand. You could have a little music, turned way down, just for background. Maybe a box of Nilla Vanilla wafers -- just my personal preference.

No clocks allowed, since the sun will be your only alarm clock for morning.

So tonight is our first candidate. I'm doing my best to savor the moment, though we haven't even registered the camper for this year yet. Yup, the first one caught me off-guard. That's okay, though. I figure there'll be more, right?

And with that, Just Camping Out is at last awakened from its winter doldrums. Please stay tuned for more substantive content. We'll have plenty of guest authors, product reviews, pictures, camping tips, and short stories during the coming months. We might even let Grace Alexander return with her I Hate Camping columns. I miss those!

For tonight, just a small celebration of a gorgeous evening. Tomorrow is soon enough to tackle the chores lined up to prepare our camper for the summer season. I can't wait to get started!

copyright 2009 - all rights reserved
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How about you? What makes a perfect camping night for you? Do any from the past stand out in your memory? Share them here. It's good to be back!

~Jim

Why is winter so long?

...and summer so short?

Our little camper -- a nearly 30-year-old, 19-foot restored Shasta -- sits in the yard beside our garage. She's sinking into the soggy sod right now, after spending the bitter months shrugging off the wind and snow, mostly unscathed. We've had a few days with temperatures in the low sixties recently; makes me glance longingly at our old trailer, hoping for warm nights and 9 pm sunsets soon.

I no longer love winter. It's too long. We're just far enough north here, near Lake Ontario, that the cold and gray months encroach on the end of fall and the first half of spring. We joke that spring is about two weeks long. Our "leaf season" is longer than that, but prone to early snowstorms. I used to love winter -- when I was young and single and could afford to go skiing.

Now I spend the weeks following Thanksgiving waiting for summer. It's a long wait, punctuated by the six weeks of Christmas and a couple of oddly-scheduled school vacations. Once Santa has finished flying there's that long no-real-holidays time. Who celebrates Groundhog Day? It often snows on our St. Patrick's Day parade.

I hate driving in the snow anymore. We used to brave blizzards to go skiing; now that I'm older I can't see through the flakes as well. I'm approaching a million lifetime miles of driving, with about a third of them in snowy conditions. I've paid my dues, haven't I? Someday I may actually have to consider "flying south." What a terrible thought.

The only consolation to New York's seemingly interminable winters is that they force you to appreciate summer. You hear that from people who simply refuse to move to warmer climates: "I'd miss the seasons, and get sick and tired of warm sun." While that's probably true, it's probably also a fairly lame rationalization. While I'm not sure I could stomach the air-conditioned lifestyle of Floridians, I'll bet I could make do in Honolulu.

My home, however, is here in upstate NY. Most of my friends and almost all of my family are all here. Moving is expensive, emotionally demanding, and ultimately life-altering. I'll stay here, as long as the bank doesn't reclaim our house. In that event, we'd have to live in our little camping trailer. That would probably take most of the fun out of camping.

The summers here are too short, though. That's just a fact. When you balance "perfect camping nights " against "gloomy winter days" the scale always hits the table hard on the "gloomy" side. It's not uncommon for us to suffer through a solid week of sunless days between October and April. I honestly believe that people have "solar batteries" that need to be recharged regularly. I do, anyway.

For me, the beginning of NASCAR racing season signals that summer is almost here, somewhere -- Daytona, at least. All the early races are in winter-warm states at first, so we see "summer" long before it arrives in NY. Then the Masters teases us with gorgeous verdant fairways and brilliant azalea blossoms. It's hard for me to watch, when we still have bare trees and brown lawns.

Then suddenly, after a couple of "fooled ya" days above seventy degrees, it's summer in New York. The willows burst into pale green abundance first, with the hardwoods last to follow. Before we know it, the days are fourteen hours of sunshine and we're complaining about the heat. We think about buying air conditioners, knowing we won't need them for long. Our lawns need mowing twice a week.

We launch some fireworks, grill some hot dogs, take impulsive trips to nearby campgrounds , leave the TV off, and stay up 'til midnight because it's too nice out to go to sleep. We spend two weeks watering our browning lawns, worrying needlessly. And then, quietly and with little warning, our local NFL franchise team arrives for training camp at St. John Fisher College.

You know what NFL means, don't you? -- "Fall." Just like that, our summer is nearly done. We savor the final few days in the eighties, or maybe even above ninety degrees, while the merchants scream "back to school!" My wife and I frantically try to decide how we'll spend the Labor Day weekend -- camper or no camper ? Home or away?

Then the school buses return for their endless trips up and down our hill (the high school is just down the road), and we know it's over. Another summer is gone, the fleeting weekends already fading memories. We begin to watch TV shows again in the evening. We check our tires to make sure we have good "snow tread" left, and gas up the snow-blower. We park the camper in the side yard, and drain off the water lines. I think about writing an article for Helium titled, "Tips for storing your RV camper for the winter." There's that word again: winter. Where did the summer go?

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How about you? Do you have an opinion about camping and weather you'd like to share? If you'd like to submit your thoughts for posting, you can reach me via Comments or by using the link at the top of this page.

See my article about RV camping on Helium.com

And now, a word from Mother Nature

What do you see?

There are signs all around us, if we keep our eyes and our minds open. We interpret those omens or portents the way we see fit. Sometimes I decide that a particularly beautiful sunset has appeared just for me. A welcome to the new day of my very own. I'm not especially superstitious, but I'm also not afraid to assign significance to seemingly random events around me. After all, it's what you do with a "sign" you interpret as meant for you that really matters.

Do you change your course when a black cat crosses your path? That's superstitious and slightly silly. On the other hand, if you change your driving habits when you narrowly avoid a terrible collision because you "had a feeling" -- that's making good, sound use of a "sign."

One of the most rewarding aspects of going camping is the chance to break free of the clutter of our everyday lives, the chance to spend some time just looking at the beauty around us. We used to call it 'communing with nature.' Great thoughts have emerged while looking into the intricate movements of a blazing fire. (Remember the story about the double helix?)

Over the years I've locked eyes with a feisty crow, been mesmerized by the jerky ballet of a foraging squirrel, and been awed by the grace of a circling hawk. I've watched my kids play together and listened to their laughter, without them realizing I was paying attention. Looking outward at the often overlooked activities around us gives us pause to look inward with insight, too.

Are there signs all around us, every day? Sure there are, if we only know how to interpret them. You can't find the meanings listed in a book. And your message won't be the same as mine, even if the sign we see is identical. What we see when we look, what we notice in the collage of life around us, and what we make of whatever catches our attention all relates to what is in our minds and in our hearts on that day in that moment.

Country music artist George Stait, a steadfast lover of philosophical lyrics in his songs, recently released I Saw God Today. The opening verse illustrates this thought beautifully:

Just walked down the street to the coffee shop
Had to take a break
I'd been by her side for 18 hours straight
Saw a flower growin' in the middle of the sidewalk
Pushin' up through the concrete
Like it was planted right there for me to see.

What do you see in the photo that heads this post? That's one piece of my bluestone sidewalk with an ordinary leaf flattened against it. Maybe that's all you see in the photograph. I saw it as a sign.

The evening I took that picture, I'd been having one of those days. You know the kind: three or four small irritations pile up into an emotional mountain. I was half-way miserable, ready to snap at anyone who crossed my path. And then, there on my sidewalk, I saw a gleaming heart surrounded by a frame. Saw it so clearly that for a moment I thought my wife has pasted it there for me to see. In a way, she had. I just needed a reminder that love is all around me; I just had to keep my eyes open.

copyright 2008 - all rights reserved

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How about you? Do you have a photograph you'd like to share? If you'd like to submit your photograph for possible posting, you can reach me via Comments or by using the link at the top of this page.

My First Camping Trip: The mighty Oswagotchie

My first real camping trip was a guided journey to the wilderness area surrounding the Oswegatchie River. Earning my freshman college Phys-Ed credits by taking a vacation sounded like a sweet deal to me. All I had to do was spend a couple days camping out to fulfill the PE requirement for my first semester. What a fine adventure!

Heading out:

We left the Finger Lakes on a Friday morning for a two-night outing in the Adirondacks, over 200 miles northeast. Our convey consisted of a couple bus-length vans filled with rugged, outdoorsy college kids (not really), a whole pile of gear, and a trailer loaded with canoes. If I remember correctly our group included three professors, over a dozen guys, and one girl. (How brave was she?)

This was the tail end of the seventies, and most of us smoked. We probably smoked all the way up there, riding inside those vans. (Can you imagine the air quality?) Only one of us thought to bring enough cigarettes to last the entire weekend, but that's getting ahead of the story. Before we returned to the campus we'd learn all about underestimating our provisions.

It was early October. Fall in New York can be gorgeous, or it can be miserable, and sometimes both. We had plenty of sun in the forecast, but a shortage of warmth. Pretty typical. Our camping guides, a trio of weather-hardened outdoorsmen with teaching credentials, assured us we'd be warm enough on the first leg of our sojourn. They were right about that.

A very long drive:

After endless miles on I-81 we finally arrived at the only usable public entry point to the river. A rustic but heavenly general store marked our last sight of civilization. Some of us bought candy and soft drinks; others grabbed an extra pack of Marlboro's. At this point we were still getting acquainted, laughing and joking and sneaking glances at the lone female of the pack.

Next our caravan followed a one-lane "road" deep into the forest. We could have jogged alongside the vans, given the highest speed the lane allowed. I doubt we traveled more than ten miles, but it felt like fifty. Eventually the mighty Oswegatchie appeared at the edge of a clearing. There was just enough room to park the vehicles and unload all those canoes. We dragged the little boats and our half-ton of gear to the water's edge and pushed off on the first leg of our big adventure.

We reach the river:

Maybe we appreciated the splendor of that winding river mountain preserve on a crisp fall day. I doubt it, though; we were all pretty busy rowing like galley slaves. Our nervous chatter, marked by occasional laughter, echoed in the trees that surrounded us as we paddled deeper and deeper into the big woods. The Oswegatchie slithers and winds in a seemingly endless series of oxbows. Sometimes those of us leading could see the tail end of our canoe train through the screen of trees and brush. All of us wondered if we'd make it to camp before dark. We weren't the least bit cold, not yet.

We arrive at camp:

Eventually, after ten or twenty hours of hard labor (a slight exaggeration), we reached a clearing by the river. We staggered to shore, dragging our watercraft and assessing our accommodations. We had lean-to's! Some hard-working men, left unemployed by the ravages of The Great Depression, had built us a couple of solid dirt-floored shelters. Our professors had brought a tent for the grown-ups.

We probably had hot dogs for dinner. That memory eludes me completely. Did we make the girl do the cooking? I hope not. We did find out, once we were a thousand miles from home, that her boyfriend was along for the trip. So much for whatever romantic ideas the rest of us had. We finished the last of our hoarded snacks before the sundown, too. It was going to be a long weekend.

Darkness falls:

By now I'm sure you realize that once the sun had set the temperature began to plummet. We were mostly small-city kids; what did we know about cold in the mountains? The usual cure for sudden chill involves sharing body heat. That wasn't going to work. We slept in our flannel shirts and jeans, shivering with our cheap sleeping bags pulled up over our heads. The heat from the evening's campfire didn't reach our open-fronted shelters at all.

The beautiful fall sun returned in the morning, of course. Our uncontrollable shivering subsided once we'd ingested some breakfast. Too bad all the life-giving chocolate bars were gone. As soon as the dishes were done (the girl? No, we all pitched in, didn't we?), our tour guides led us on a fifty mile hike in the hills. (Close enough.) That warmed us up. We all knew it would get dark again sooner or later, though.

What happened after that?

It's funny, but I don't remember much of anything after that. Perhaps we hiked far enough to exhaust us all by nightfall, so that we could sleep blissfully unaware of the numbing cold. The only other detail I can recall is that the one guy who'd been smart enough to bring a whole carton of Marlboro's was treated like a minor deity. I'm also sure that all that smoking didn't help our hypothermia one bit.

We must have reversed our river journey and returned to the launching point sometime on Sunday morning. I remember the sound of the little bell on the door to the general store. Maybe I was asleep until we walked back into the rousing aroma of beef jerky, Hershey bars, and burnt coffee. I'll bet we dropped a couple hundred dollars in that store before we got back into the vans for the long drive home.

I'm pretty sure we had the time of our lives.

copyright 2008 - all rights reserved

See this story as it appears on Helium.com

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I'll publish more First Camping Trip stories here in the coming weeks. We have three or four qued up right now. Want to have your first trip story considered for publication here? Leave a comment that links back to you. ~Jim

Camping, when a river runs through it: Part I

By Cherry Kelly guest author

My earliest camping memories come from my pre-school days. The tent was not fancy, but belonged to Grandpa. It was a tarp type that he used to cover with hay, some ropes for tie down and tie up to whatever trees could be found. Ground cover was also an old tarp. (I think they were WWII-era tarps -- they were smelly when wet.) At that time it was just an overnight camp at some fishing lake. Our only campfire was one we built surrounded by rocks.

I remember gathering wood from the nearby woods, as most of the lakes were surrounded by a lot of trees, had small beaches for fishing, and the camping areas were quite rough and often needed clean-up before you could even put up any kind of tent. Food and water were carried in containers from home in hampers -- canned food, as the coolers were not the greatest. We did cook the fish we caught as well. Kerosene lamps and flashlights were a must.

Our first tent with a ground cover was quite a step up! So, too, were sleeping bags instead of blankets, then the propane camp stoves and other camp equipment. The poles and pegs were a great improvement, too, as it allowed us to pitch a tent in places without handy trees.

A great memory: The fireflies winking in and out of the campsite and the sounds of crickets and bullfrogs calling. Backwoods camping in remote areas made some of the best memories.

...in which black bear interrupts our sleep:

We were on a camping canoe type trip where we had to portage between waterways. Small tents, sleeping bags, all water and most of the food had to be carried -- so it was definitely a survival-type camping trip.

It was in the very early hours of the morning when the black bear wandered into the camp. The snuffling noise woke up most of the group (about 8 or 9 of us -- don't recall exactly, but small group). Flashlights and lamps were lit in the various tents, and I could hear quiet voices.

"What should we do?" and "Is it a cub or grown-up?"

"Should one of us get out and scare it away?"

It grew quite hilarious until one of the guys yelled out, "bark!" Next thing you could hear were barking noises from the various tents. Looking out, I saw the poor young bear (probably a year old and alone) running to the nearest tree.

In the morning, as we loaded up the tents to leave, one of the guys asked, "What happened to the bear?" Our camp guide pointed up into one of the trees. There it was, stretched out on a limb, not quite asleep, but definitely treed.

...in which the creek makes a grand entrance:

The camper van, actually an older Econoline van, worked well with our tent camping -- tents for the boys. We pulled our van into a fishing campground after putting the boat into the water and tying it to the dock. We found a good spot to put the van and set up the tent beside it for the boys.

Other camper-type vans and tents soon joined us.Along came a tent guy (actually two brothers) with brand new gear, new boat -- the works. They set up their tent, and we all told them -- not a good place to do so. Iit was a creek bed area, mostly dry during the year, but...) These two 'city slickers' just laughed as they said they had the flattest area for their tent...yadda yadda yadda.

Of course, the second evening of camping we had a little rain. It was very difficult not to laugh at the 'city slickers' who had to make a very hasty move when the little rain sent water down the creek bed. We all helped them retrieve their 'floated away' items. The cooler was almost half way across the lake. (Good thing it was tightly sealed!) Rain cleared out by mid-morning, and fishing was quite good, amazingly.

...in which snapping turtle tries to drag away mother:

Since we are talking about camping and fishing, there is a story from a little lake called Trumble in northwest Iowa. This lake is somewhat strange as a ridge runs across one section of it. You can actually wade halfway across the lake and continue fishing.

There is a very rustic area where you can camp on the point near that ridge. We were there for early spring bullhead fishing. The tent was small, but fit our needs as we spent most of the time fishing anyway.

Worms don't bother me. Fact is, when I was younger I had a night-crawler business of my own. I'd go out with a flashlight and pick worms. Those went into an old fridge in special plastic box containers with a mixture of buss bedding and newspapers. Some were sold, and some used by our family. So putting a worm on a hook was nothing new for me, and fishing and camping were things that went together.

I've caught logs, shoes, tree branches -- and on that occasion, someone's lost stringer of fish with 8 live fish on the stringer. Some had probably escaped the stringer, but it was an odd day. It got funnier as the day went on.

Mom was barely five feet tall. She and Dad were fishing on one side of the point, and suddenly I heard her yelling for help. My two younger sisters and I ran back across the point to where we found Dad laughing and laughing. There was Mom, her line going out into the water, and she was being pulled INTO the lake.

Out from shoreline was a snapping turtle quite obviously hooked on her line. It was huge! Dad just stood there and laughed, telling her to cut the line; and Mom being stubborn said NO! The struggle went on, with her being pulled more than she was able to pull back.

About this time Dad realized that Mom was not going to give up, so he went over to help her pull in that snapper. He could not pull it in either! Then the ranger came around and, seeing the situation, went back to his car and got a gaff hook and waders. When they finally got that snapping turtle to shore we all stood back in amazement. It was the biggest one I'd ever seen, and the biggest the ranger had ever seen.

The ranger killed it with an axe, and put it in the back of his jeep to take back to his park office to display. It was there for many years until the office was destroyed in a fire in the 1980's.

After the snapper bit, we found the fishing was greatly improved. Later that day the ranger returned and presented mom with the clean front claws of that snapping turtle. Mom strung them together with fishing line and would often hang them on our main tent pole when we went camping.

Memories -- wonderful ones of childhood years and camping and fishing with Mom and Dad and my two younger sisters.

Reprinted by permission from Cherry Kelly.

See See Cherry's original post replies at Helium.com

See Molly O'Shea's River Runs Through It: Part II

Read Cherry's Helium profile

Are we nearly done with Perfect Camping Nights?

You may know of my obsession with Perfect Camping Nights. When I posted my good-bye to summer recently, I may have jumped the gun. We're more than halfway through September now, and I'm sitting out on the balcony deck (my writing refuge). The peepers are singing up a fall symphony, there's no hint of a breeze, and the temperature is fine for jeans and a sweatshirt. We even had a dandy campfire earlier this evening during Dinner at Dad's (my dad).

We've camped before in mid- to late September. Our little furnace pumps out 10,000 BTU's, which is more than enough to chase off a fifty-degree night chill. Most of the campgrounds in our area are open right through the third week of October, often with big discounts. So where do we stand on post-summer PCN's? ELEVEN! Yes, that's right: this "fall" month nearly ties the score with both June and July's tally of gorgeous overnights! One more night like this, and the counts are even.

So we might get one or two more trips in yet this year, after all. The weekend forecast isn't encouraging, but there's plenty of potential for a few more beautiful camping evenings yet this year. Tell you one thing, the deer sure love this weather. They're everywhere! I missed one tonight, driving home in the moonlit darkness, by about ten feet. Good thing the driver behind me was paying attention. Who else is headed out for an early fall camping trip? Is this the best time of year for you? Any big leaf-watching trips planned?

Lamenting summer's last gasp in NY

Where did the summer of 2008 go? It seems like only a few days ago we were dancing in the front yard, celebrating the early arrival of summer in mid-April. When spring's first brilliant bursts of green emerge, it seems like the summer stretches ahead with endless promise. Then, seemingly in a few short days, it's Labor Day weekend. Plans have been made, vacations taken, trips come and gone, yard chores carried out or left undone, and each gorgeous summer day savored during the brief instant of its existance.

I've marked a total of 64 Perfect Camping Nights for '08. Last year set an all-time record (for us) of 113. No way we'll match that this year; we had too many dreary or chilly weekends, several of them spent camping. Our big trip to Jellystone in North Java saw temps in the low seventies and several days of rain and storms. We spent a lovely night at the local KOA Kampground in Farmington
gathered around the campfire wearing sweatshirts and drinking hot drinks after a blustery Saturday.

Some plans didn't work out very well. My oldest son secured a weekend job and announced he wouldn't be joining us on any camping outings. Our big trip to Sacketts Harbor for the annual 1812 Lacrosse Shoot-out tournament was cancelled when the team didn't gather enough players willing to make the 100-mile journey. A couple other summer weekends turned drab and rainy on Friday night, so we stayed home. [continued]

Read the rest of this post (more pics, too)

Sometimes pedestrians DON'T have the right of way!

At least five people nearly died earlier this evening, because one driver decided to yield to pedestrians in a very dangerous way. You won't ever read about it in a newpaper because nothing horrible happened. My kids, however, can attest to my bad language under heavy stress.

Do you drive through controlled intersections at full speed? Luckily, I usually don't. Tonight's incident occurred on a busy four-lane highway under a standing green light. I doubt I was going faster than about 45 mph (in a 55 zone) at the time. In addition to the four through-lanes, this highway has two dedicated left turn lanes, one from each direction. That way, you can be out of the way while you wait for the all-clear.

The offending driver, coming at me (northbound) from the opposing left-turn lane, was trying to beat me through the intersection. I was going straight, headed southbound in the right-hand lane, with my two boys in the other seats. He stopped directly in my path, perpendicular to my 6,000-pound truck. Why? Because the driver realized, well after committing to this ill-advised turning attempt, that the crosswalk contained two pedestrians: appeared to be a dad and daughter walking their bikes. Pedestrians "always" have the right-of-way, goes the common wisdom. So he stopped to wait for the walkers. Stopped right there in front of my moving vehicle. Brilliant.

Keep reading...

Updating Perfect Camping Nights of 2008

I've talked a couple times about "perfect camping nights." (Just click the headline, above, to see the original post.) Tonight is another: still air, no rain, no wind, and at least sixty degrees. All of these facets used to matter very much when we were tent camping. I still keep track despite the fact that owning a camper (with a furnace!) makes perfection less important.

We joke in New York, as people do nearly everywhere, "if you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes." This summer has been no exception to that quip. We've had remarkable hot weather in early April, and record-setting cooler days in August -- and everything in between.

Here's where we stand on PCN's, according to my white-board records:

• April: 6 (!)
• May: 15 (amazing)
• June: 11 (not too shabby)
• July: 12 (what??)
• August, halfway: 11 (not bad)

We've had three trips so far. It's possible that one or two of those "perfect" nights occurred DURING those trips. Possible, but not very likely! Good thing our camper has an awning!

Where in the world is our Camper??

We got up early Saturday morning to hustle our aging camper down to the auto repair shop for its annual inspection. We were on a birthday party deadline, so time was of the essence. I knew the shop would be extra busy on a weekend morning, but that's the time we had.

I was a little worried, because we've had problems off and on (literally) with the left brake light. Lights are important with campers, since people love to tailgate you while you're towing, sometimes so close that you can't see them back there until they swing out to pass.

We got lucky. My mechanic, Steve, was eating a donut when we arrived. This was a good sign -- how busy can you be if you're munching a snack? No problem, Steve says. A few minutes later one of the other techs strolls out to "have a look." The past couple years this has been a formality. They check the lights, make sure your hitch is set-up right, and we prove out the electric brakes for the inspector. Grab my sticker and go. Not this time.

We need four new tires. Man, it would've been better if the brake-light failed! Who wants to shell out for a quartet of trailer tires? There goes the price of a whole vacation in one shot. The camper's still down there at the shop, by the way. They couldn't get the tires in time that day, so we left the camper there to await its new road rubber. I haven't had time to go back and pick it up since then. Nothing's ever as easy as you hope it'll be, is it?

Camping: Tents or RV's, which is better?

There are two distinct worlds of camping: tents and RV's. Each is as different from the other as Democrat and Republican. Emotions run strong in both camps, and proponents of one often disdain supporters of the other. "That's not camping!" the tenters say to the lazy, pampered residents of recreational vehicles. "But when it rains it pours," responds the RV lovers.

I've done both, and I'll take a roof over my head every time.

Purists will tell you it isn't camping if you aren't roughing it. Their ideal comes straight from a Coors Lite commercial: pure mountain stream, isolation, Jeep Wrangler in a clearing with a breeze wafting through the towering pines, and fresh-caught trout frying on a white-gas grill. Just you, your sweetheart, a playful Golden Retriever, and a couple thousand dollars worth of fancy gear from Adirondack Outfitters immersed in the pristine beauty of Nature, capital N.

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