Ode to Camping

I'm suppose to be arriving at the campsite now to rendezvous with a sister and her clan. It's their annual Opening of Fishing season party located in a bucolic setting not far from Hartford. Driving over Connecticut's rolling hills and passing the tidy inns and countryside is worth the excursion. However, it's cold and raw and rainy today and I can not mentally make the trek alone in the Volvo. This driving alone has become boring and unsatisfying. It would be tempting fate to take the Volvo out on such a miserably rainy day. That hairpin turn is a beauty to negotiate. I'd be better served in a truck.

Today, undertaking the journey in a spirit of play escapes me. This evidently may lead to disappointment on my hosts part, because every aspect of my comfort has been taken into consideration. The RV accommodations, the foul weather gear, the food and drinks, and screened canopy to mitigate the rain.  I guess I'm a fair weather camper who'll miss their annual celebration of family and family of friends and mother nature herself.

Releasing the trout and kicking off another fishing season has been a long standing traditional outing. I'm told there are years when it has snowed. These players are regulars and much more hearty than I. This is as natural as breathing air for them. With them, I get to indulge my inner camper. You've never witnessed such bounty as the dawning of a New England spring in this spot of paradise with this family.

Camping brings out the best in men, these women too, but camping, for me, is about men. Being in the outdoors with them is to acknowledge their superiority in just drinking, relaxing, eating, and tending to the fire. The campers and fishermen go about their business or just sit around soaking in the hypnotic elements of the fire. Someone caught a trout! How big? Congratulations all around. It is taken inside the RV and prepped to consume. Out comes the hot, home-made clam chowder. Their attentiveness is charming. Talk turns to politics, religion and the economy for this is an intellectual camping group who are not apathetic. I learn camping with a heated RV is the way to go and honestly enjoy myself.

The cooking spit is set up and multiple grills are in action. The picnic tables are arranged like a large banquet. The roasting pit is bound in heavy aluminum foil and is strong enough to hold a humongous pork loin. That's the Saturday evening feast, the year before it was a fried turkey that was incredibly moist and flavorful. A lot of thought and love goes into producing this event. I suspect they have it down to a fine science. Kudos to Nancy and Carol and Norma and Paul for orchestrating this unforgettable experience.

It's the companionship that is the draw. This year, Nancy, is bringing a new love into the fold. The siblings and her friends adore him and feel it's a perfect match. Good. Very good. Awesome. He is a fortunate man and she is one powerful soul sister. I'll look forward to meeting him on their own turf in Vermont, rain or shine.