Seven Kinds of People You Meet When Camping

The hubs and I have done our fair share of camping since we first got together. We've camped everywhere from way out in the willywacks to places that are really deconstructed hotels, and everything in between. But no matter where you seem to go, there always seems to be those token campers, the kinds of campers that your experience just wouldn't be complete without.

That Kid - You, it's that kid. The one that stumbled into your site about five minutes after you arrived because he noticed your naive friendliness kids sitting in the back of your car. It starts innocently enough; he wants to play with your kids and check out your gear. But then he starts eating your food, and much like in If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, it leads you through a destructive cycle that ends in the somewhat unwanted addition around your campfire 20 hours a day (I mean, he does leave to go to sleep, but it's at, like, midnight, and he'll be back at sunrise). Where is this kid's parents?!

Super Adventure Folks - You only see these people twice a day - at sun up and at sun down. Between those times they are either: hiking the biggest mountain, rafting the gnarliest river, biking the longest trails, or parasailing while performing heart-surgery. Their sinewy svelteness puts you to shame while you eat your eighth breakfast s'more and contemplate the best angle for the sun to be in when you take a nap later.

Sweet Retired Couple - They came in their camper from 1985 and unwittingly wear matching outfits of khaki shorts and some sort of state bird themed shirt. They still hold hands even though they've probably been married for 300 years, and can be frequently see just smiling at each other. Though they keep mostly to themselves, they are pleasant to talk to and smile benignly at your filthy and loud children.

The Bros - The bros come in many forms and ages. Young college guys, old farts who've been doing this for 20 years, or even the ladies' night crowd, exchanging the unending beers for wine spritzers and Mike's Hard Lemonade. What doesn't change is the noise. The screeches and hollers. The random explosions. The smell of grilling steak at all hours. The super loud music. ('80's hair bands are the common thread. Tell me, how many times can you "pour some sugar on it"? Really?) At first, they seem kind of cute (either because they are kind of cute to look at or old people having fun is adorable), but then it gets old. Fast. And you want to go back in time and collectively kill Poison, AC/DC, and Def Leppard.

The Folks from "Away" - Odds on their camper (and it will be a camper) is the biggest and newest at the camp and it will have either Massachusetts or New Jersey plates on it. It will be filled with really nicely dressed people, with really nicely done hair, and they will look lost the whole time. Any time you see one of them, they will have this vacant look in their eyes that says, "Where am I? Did I accidentally buy a time machine that took me back to the olden days? Who are these people? What are these fabric things they're sleeping in? Are they poor? Is this a community of homeless people?" Also, there will be at least one person, usually male, who will ride a four wheeler super fast, everywhere.

The Perma-Campers - You know, the folks with the permanent site, the one they've been renting for the last forty years. On the site you'll see what was once a camper has evolved into a glorious home away from home. There is a small garden and nicely landscaped path leading up to the porch the owner's son-in-law built two summers ago. The porch borders the camper which has at least one addition, and there is a satellite dish stuck awkwardly somewhere, probably a tree. There is a constant stream of people coming and going, usually other perma-campers, God forbid they associate with any of us riffraff.

Mystery Campers - Last, but not least, there are the campers that are never seen. Their tent appears out of nowhere one morning, a car of indeterminate age and origin sits beside their site. You think they must come out at some point, because there's a rotation of items on the picnic table, yet you never see a soul. The tents remain absolutely still, doors and windows completely zipped up, the car never moved. You start to wonder if they aren't traveling vampires who are just staying put in their light blocking tents, waiting until the sun sets to search for their next victim... Or at least that's what you tell you kids before you tuck them in that night. See you in the morning, suckers!! Muahahaha!

The First Beach Day

 

After what felt like the longest winter of my life (and certainly of my littles' lives), we ditched our usual school night routines and found ourselves at the lake last Thursday night. The water was frigid but the air had that lovely heavy heat to it that I know I won't love in July, but it was perfect for early May.  

 

A Perfect Sunday

Every once in a while life hands us a perfect day. This is just a little glimpse of ours.

Breakfast at Melby's in Waterford, ME, waiting for the snow to fly.

Patiently awaiting his muffin. Food is the only thing that keeps this kid in his seat.

Happy, happy, happy!

Just a little bit of snow. We are waiting for more!

Pure joy and energy.

Watching the Pats cream Denver!

Dear Lewiston

Dear Lewiston, Maine,

You have not always been my favorite place. You're a bit drab, a bit run down, and tend to be the butt of a lot of unflattering jokes.

I'll be honest - I've been a bit of a snob when it comes to you, Lewiston. But I think I can change. I think we can change together. After all it was from you my husband came, and as much as I'd like to give him back sometimes, in the end, I love him and I appreciate all the cultural charm you've given him, like his really weird Maine/French-Canadian accent.

What's more, I am starting discover your charms. Tonight, for example, I enjoyed a really incredible dinner at one of your local restaurants and there were no french fries or lobster rolls in sight. And what was in sight was a delightful mixed bag (at least for Maine) of people, types of people who I do not get to see every day in our neck of the woods. I had never fully appreciated that about you Lewiston - you house a fascinating collage of folks who I do not meet and experience life with every day.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say, Lewiston, is that I'm sorry and I am, if you are, willing to give it another go.

What do you say?

My View

I don't often feel spoiled (though perhaps I ought to - I have a pretty wonderful life). I have my moments of peeking in on others' lives, often through social media or blogs, and a streak of jealousy runs through me, often accompanied with the thought, "If only we had a little more [fill in the blank]." That is usually followed by a dose of guilt, realizing that it's really not cute to covet what others have and to realize that the grass is always greener and that I really ought to appreciate what things I do have, which are many and good.

But goodness, sometimes it's nice to feel like you have something very special, something that not everyone can have. And this, this is what I have:

A stumbled upon lake while out on a going-to-nowhere drive.

A misty morning just outside of my parents' house.

Oh, the hills! An everyday delight.

Of course, anyone who travels to or lives in  Maine can see these beautiful places and claim them as their own. But there is something about these places that make my heart ring. I feel special for knowing them, some intimately and others just in passing. I do not own many things that are of great value or beauty, but I have these places which spoil my need for nature and beauty so. I have the view.

First Light

Before I was staying at home, I would be driving to work at this time, watching the sun come up in pinks and purples over our little range of mountains. The colors and time alone would fill my soul and make me ready for the day.

I don't have those quiet morning drives any more. I don't get up extra early to sneak out the door before little ones are awake enough to miss me. So, now I fill my soul bit by bit with these little sips of first light coming through my windows each of these early mornings. Maybe I've secured myself twenty minutes to take a shower (not so this morning) or perhaps we're fast out of the gate, scrambling to get ready for school. Either way, I take what sweet moments to collect myself that I can and make myself ready for our day.

Weekend Lovin'

I've often said to folks, "When my husband's gone, he's gone." Meaning, he works an hour away at a job that requires him to work twelve hour shifts doing some really tough stuff. When his days off turn up during the summer we're pretty relieved to have him home and are ready to go out and have some fun. Unfortunately, our kind of summer fun takes us to the great outdoors, and up until this month, the great outdoors has been pretty soggy in these parts, especially, it had seemed, on my poor husband's days off.

But finally, finally we've had some truly fabulous weather, and every day he had off the weekend we found ourselves out doing something just so nice.

Friday:

Out on "grandma and grandpa's lake" with my parents. The sweet sunshine, delicious food, jumps into the lake, and looking at beautiful lakeside homes. 

Saturday:

We were up at 4 o'clock Saturday morning to drive to Lewiston to watch the morning launch for the balloons at the annual Great Falls Balloon Festival. It was a beautiful morning that was followed by a yummy breakfast at a local diner. E. had a wonderful time and was very happy to finally have a chance to wear her balloon outfit. 

Sunday:

It seemed fitting that the week of our wedding anniversary my husband wanted to take the kids and I up to Frenchman's Hole in Newry, one of the places he took me when we were first dating. With a little grilling and some swimming later into the afternoon, it was a very pleasant and relaxing end to a really perfect summer weekend.