growing up, we spent a lot of time camping in the adirondacks. fish creek. rollins pond. golden beach. long lake. blue mountain. old forge. eighth lake. it's funny how i can picture every place in my head, yet if i had to tell you where they are on a map, i couldn't do it.
as a kid, i knew that you saw eighth lake out the right side of the car before you got to it. i knew water safari was on the main drag in old forge and that the adirondack museum is in blue mountain lake. but no idea what route the main drag is or what direction blue mountain lake is from eighth lake.
as a kid, i knew that you saw eighth lake out the right side of the car before you got to it. i knew water safari was on the main drag in old forge and that the adirondack museum is in blue mountain lake. but no idea what route the main drag is or what direction blue mountain lake is from eighth lake.
so last weekend we spent a long weekend camping at fish creek.
we drove up to lake placid and spent an afternoon walking around mirror lake soaking in the sunshine and lunch at the cottage.
on the way back to the campground, we took a couple detours. there were flowers...
and views of the olympic ski jump and bobsled tracks, and the mountains, of course.
and then there's the food.
steaks the size of my head.
last night's salt potatoes turned into this morning's breakfast potatoes.
sausages and pancakes to fuel a day of reading, canoeing, scrounging for fire wood, and catching up with family.
does everyone eat like this when they're camping!?
i don't know about you, but something magical happens to food when it's cooked and eaten outside. especially over an open fire. and it's best when served on a stick, and after a beer or two.
and now, after driving home via route 28, i realized how close everything is to each other.
and most importantly, the view of eighth lake is exactly how i remember it.
0 komentar:
Posting Komentar