Jumping off stuff...
My wife and I took our older two boys hiking last week in the Adirondacks. We did a four-mile stretch into a great campsite called Kelly's Point, on the shore of Long Lake, and spent the next day and a half jumping off a 12-foot rock into the water.
I always judge the relative value of a hiking trail by how much you can jump off stuff, whether it's a rock, a bridge, rope swing, moose...
We saw an eagle swooping around the lake in search of prey. We also saw about 8-9 13th graders in the campsite next to us who drank beer, shot off bottle rockets and talked about the High School Football glory days that never really were...quite sad, truthfully.
This was Joseph's first hike and he did splendidly. No tears, but quite a few frogs. We ate like kings, and laid out on a big rock and gazed at the stars. I did see one of the brightest shooting stars ever, like a firework.
Ah, camping...
3 Comments:
"quite a few frogs. We ate like kings"
Sounds yummy...
:^o
I can't imagine a better metric for judging successful camping. At a certain point we have to ask ourselves: if there is not ample opportunity to jump off stuff, why are we camping?
Other practices that complete a camping trip include: throwing rocks at stuff.
Also skipping rocks on water.
I forgot yet another metric: burning stuff. Especially the ever-present question when dealing with camping garbage: Is it gonna get toxic if I burn this?
Matt, we didn't have any butter to sautee the frogs, so it was more of a sushi/sashimi experience.
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