Camping was great, though it could have had a better beginning and end as far as I'm concerned. I got out of the house a little after eleven on Saturday and hopped on 93 towards Luke Warm's house, which I still not been to, in Canterbury, NH. Luke had said that the trip would take me about an hour. It seemed to me that it would take longer, considering Canterbury was north of Concord, but Luke assured me that it's pretty much a straight shot up the highway and, after having travelled back and forth on that route several times, he was confident of his estimation.
Well, it did take me an hour to arrive. Plus an additional two and a half. There was a massive amount of traffic that started just outside the city and continued pretty much all the way up to Luke Warm's house. When I spoke with my father the day before, he wondered if I'd hit a ton of traffic because of the leaf-peepers. I figured I'd get some, but that at least it'd be moving steadily. Little did I realize that I was going to face the worst traffic I've ever encountered in my entire life. I am not exaggerating, though I wish I was.
I kept a positive disposition for most of the trip to Luke's house, though after a while I was starting to get a little antsy. When I finally reached my destination, I felt drained, like I had just travelled cross-country. I realized that the time it took me to get to Luke's was more or less the same amount it would have taken me to get to camp in Vermont.
Before we left town, we stopped to get some groceries and went to Panera for some lunch. The ride to Vermont was gorgeous--- foliage was in full bloom and vivid--- and we made it to camp around five thirty. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly given the ideal weather, many of the sites were occupied. We found one off one of the side roads that was isolated, large, and open to the sky.
Before deciding on the spot, Luke wanted to investigate another site he thought was available. On our way to it, we passed a car and Luke remarked "Wouldn't that be something if they took our spot?". I didn't think it was very likely; the spot was a little off the beaten path and even if they eventually found it, we would be back before they did.
When we got to the site Luke wanted to investigate, we saw that it was taken. We drove back to the previous site, realizing that, aside from one that was right on the main drag, it was the only one left. We were running out of day light and needed to set up camp soon.
We cursed our luck when we saw the car we passed at the foot of the driveway to the site we had just left. I asked the woman who was standing near it if they were going to be camping there. "No", she responded, "just taking a pee break". Aside from the fact that we'd probably be trudging through her piss, we were relieved (as I'm sure she was at that moment. Wink, wink) that fortune had favored us in this instance.
As I was setting it up, I quickly discovered my tent was F.U.B.A.R. If I had more time, I probably could have figured out what the problem was, but it was almost dark and we still needed to get some wood, so I abandoned the restoration project before me and determined I'd have to sleep in Luke's tent. I was glad I'd brought my Ipod; I would be needing it to combat Luke Warm's nefarious snoring.
Once his tent was up, we decided to drive into town and buy some wood at the grocery store and gather some kindling on the way. The plan was a success --- we found a good amount of kindling and the store, thank God, had some wood. On our way back, we almost hit a doe crossing the road. It always puzzles me why anyone would want to kill such a graceful animal for sport.
Back at camp, we built a nice fire and prepared a delicious vegetable and tofu stir fry. We had wine and smoke afterward and relaxed. Throughout the night, we heard plaintive clall-and-response howling in the distance. It sounded to me like Coyote, but a part of me was thinking Sasquatch ( when I got home I checked the BFRO website for sightings in the area. There were a few and one in particular was from a couple of years ago not very far from our location). I think it was Coyote, though. Eerie, but fascinating, those calls.
Yesterday, we hung around camp for awhile before packing up the car. We planned on finding a place where we could hike, but first wanted to go further up the road we were on to see the magnificent view of the valley. When we reached the end of the road, there was no view, only a dead end surrounded by forest. We thought we were on the road that provided the view, but obviously we were not.
Luke Warm spied a trail marker about twenty feet into the woods. We investigated and discovered it was a state trail, wide and well tended. We looked at each other and said why not.
The trail was beautiful. Here and there were finely constructed wood bridges that crossed over streams. It was a great little hike. The leaves were crisp and falling delicately all around us and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We couldn't believe we'd never found this trail after all the years we'd been camping up there.
The hike took us about an hour and a half and we headed home upon its completion. The ride back, like the ride up, was a visual treat. For years I'd wanted to go camping at this time of year for precisely this reason. Of course, when I left Luke's house, I encountered traffic again. It wasn't as bad as on the way up, though; this time it only took me two hours to get home. Still, I was beginning to rethink my views on population control.
When I made it back to the city, my head was pounding. I'd woken up with a low-grade headache, but it was manageable for most of the day. After facing that helllish traffic again, it couldn't help but become more severe. I felt better after I took some aspirin, ate, and showered.
Overall, the fucking hellish traffic notwithstanding, the trip was more than worth it. I'm glad we went. And, to everyone who balked at camping this time of year because it would be too cold: Yes, it was a little chilly late at night, but not uncomfortably so. So, yeah, you missed out, bitches.
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