Impromptu Camping

vertical path :: a token along the way (we didn't see it going up but it was there when we came down) cuppa :: the audition of the little tent, success :: bacon :: eggs 

 the tiniest runty mink, bringing up the rear (dead center of the photo) :: Appalachian Glass

We went camping on a lark this past weekend. We keep saying we should camp more frequently and last summer we went to the trouble of getting everything we'd need organized in boxes: the fire box, the kitchen box, the first aid box. This way we know that what we need is packed and ready at all times. As long as we have the fire box, we have everything we need to make fire. It made for pretty stress-free packing and we set off for Cedar Creek State Park not really sure of how to get there. Low key. That was the goal.

Julian and I have now been camping five times, once for every summer we've lived in WV. We still can't quite figure out the charm of it. I think what makes it nice is finding balance. The low moments (fixing dinner on a fire while erecting a tent in the pitch black of darkness after a seven mile hike) are so low but the high moments (being on the creek bank when a mother mink toddles her six baby mink past you on a cheerful and fearless parade) are so high. It's like having a hard reset and coming back into society realigned.

There were near-vertical, strenuous hiking paths, rambunctious campground neighbors, and a "professional" raccoon. But there were also baby orioles being fed in their cozy nest, a red-breasted nuthatch, and a masterfully executed campfire breakfast to make it all good again. Nice how the cream floats to the top.

All that said, I think next time, one of us ought to bring the soap.