chhotii

The importance of the tarp: Rain threatened as a possibility. Rain always threatens as a possibility in New England. So the first order of business on site was to suspend a tarp from trees to shelter the picnic table where cooking was to happen. (Not having done very much of exactly this type of camping before-- car camping, but with no sheltered cooking facilities-- I had not realized the significance of the tarp.) Sweetie's and marmota's efforts to suspend the tarp were rather frustrated for lack of good rope until Dave showed up. Next time: pack enough decent rope for the tarp, and a spare pole to prop up the middle of the tent into a roof shape. When the rain did materialize on Saturday, oh boy did we appreciate the tarp, and I don't think it would have worked out well if we hadn't found a big branch for a center pole.

Speaking of rope: Should learn how to tie more knots than just the basic one you learn at age 6 for tying bows onto presents, in case I ever have to help hang the tarp. Not that I'm the best person for that job-- I'm likely to be the shortest person on any expedition. But, I also would also like to be able to tie the hammock to the tree myself. I did not enjoy hitting the ground hard after the hammock let go of the tree.

Food-- simple is good: Cooking over a campfire, in the dirt and pine needles, increases one's appreciation for simple foods, I think. For example, Jill had suggested french toast, and before the trip I thought sure why not, but once we were there I didn't want to deal with the excess hassle, just made fried eggs and toast, and was quite happy with that. Oh, and instant oatmeal with raisins, so that I would have something to put sugar on. At home, fried eggs and toast seem boring, and french toast is fun; at camp, the extra bit of effort for french toast is an inordinate bother, but toast and eggs are just great. Another example-- burritos did not happen; we had soft tacos, and they were great. I think of the difference between burritos and soft tacos as 1) rice and 2) neatly done wrapping. After the tarp fiasco, while watching the ongoing camp fire saga and having a terrible time with the Coleman stove, I was in no mood to bother with making rice. I just cooked some meat and bean filling (hamburg, canned refried beans, taco seasoning, "special" salt and pepper), peeled an onion for people to slice up themselves, and opened containers of cheese, salsa, and salad, started heating up tortillas, and let people have at. It was easy, popular, and satisfying. Nobody missed the rice.

Speaking of food: Trying to buy enough different foods to satisfy everybody's whim under all possible circumstances is a lose. I wound up with way too much food and still missed some things. I brought strawberries, potatoes, eggs, smoked turkey, onions, oatmeal bread, honey, carrots, peanuts, milk, whole wheat bread, cookies, zucchini, roast beef, salsa, broccoli, marshmallows, salad mix, provolone cheese, mustard, a mango, m&m's, maple syrup, peaches, brown sugar, bananas, raisins, and many other things. And yet, I didn't have everything! Sweetie was disappointed that I didn't bring plain white sugar for the coffee, hot chocolate, or bacon. He actually went out and bought bacon after we were on site. Then we had way too much meat, milk, fruits, and veggies-- actually, we had way too much of everything, but these are the things that I worried about spoiling. Ate too much to avoid waste. Eating too much fruits and veggies isn't a bad thing, but trying to consume the meat and the milk weighed me down. In the future: 1) Try not to over-anticipate; 2) bring just the snacks I want, other people tend to bring their own snacks; 3) calculate the amount of meat needed based on how much normal people consume, not based on how much Sweetie consumes; 4) get it through my thick skull that other people are not as crazy about milk as I am, really we only need a very small quantity to meet my needs.

Fear and loathing the Coleman stove: Wow am I glad I tied my hair back before the rather unsuccessful lesson on how to start the Coleman stove. I don't know what was wrong, but the first time we started it, flames shot up past my head, the flame would not go down below about 8 inches tall regardless of how we frobbed the knobs, and the noise produced by the huge gas flame was intense. Fortunately, after we turned it off, jiggled things around and started the process again, it made a nice little flame just like a home gas stove. But I remain uncomfortable with not understanding all the different knobs and the pumping process and so on. Fortunately there was a fire pit and all meals after that could be done on the fire. Nice, easy, simple to understand wood fire. Thus, always be sure to bring: hair frob; newspapers and matches for starting fire; sources of protein and caffeine that don't require heating, to reduce the need for cooking. Before I go on any trip where I have to deal with the Coleman stove, I'll either get lessons on the theory and operation of the Coleman stove, or find out whether modern technology has produced some more modern alternative.

Speaking of burning things: Nearly ran out of newspaper when Sharon, obviously a complete amateur fire-starter, was trying to start the fire on Friday. I regretted not bringing some of the huge pile of Wall Street Journal; as fuel, at least, they would have some value. Bringing paper plates and cups, which simultaneously cleaned up and provided more fuel, was a win. Keeping a bag designated for burnable trash was a win.

Speaking of trash: No bears at Bear Brook, but damn, those chipmunks are brazen. Hang the trash bag (and keep all food, and anything touched by food, in the car, which I was smart enough to do from the get-go.) Not that our chipmunk did any harm, but hanging the trash bag is probably less work than cleaning up after critters on average. They are such messy eaters.

Light: Yes it does get dark in the woods at night. Gee. In the future, bring replacement batteries for the flashlight. I did not enjoy hitting the ground hard after stumbling over a black cooler lurking in the dark behind the car. Hmm. Major source of light at night (even just before the full moon) was the Coleman lantern, so maybe I better learn to deal with the Coleman thingies. Grumble grumble.

Car: "Oh it's car camping, stuff absolutely anything that might come in handy in the car" doesn't work if you have a very small car. Next time, take Rich's car, which has about a 20% larger cargo volume (yes I measured). But take a inclement-weather floormat from the Golf, it made a great door mat for outside the front flap of the tent.

Activities: One thing I've realized about my recreational pursuits is that I have more fun if they are goal-oriented and produce some feeling of accomplishment. Hiking up to a scenic vista, fun. Hiking randomly around on random trails, boring. Canoeing up a river and then looking at the map to see how far upstream the bridge is that we just went under, fun. Canoeing in random circles around in a pond, didn't try it, but it sounded boring. Observing my own progress in being able to huck a baseball further and further, fun. Throwing a flimsy frisbee-like thing that doesn't go far no matter how strong you get, boring. I like hiking, but need some structure to motivate particular outings, otherwise it's just "going for a walk". I need to find hiking companions who are interested in bagging peaks with me (although, I must be humble about my physical ability, I better start with the 2500 foot peaks before working on the 4800 feet peaks). I need hiking companions who are not just humoring me, who are not going to start asking "so explain, what exactly are we doing on this mountain anyway?" when they get tired. For that reason, I did miss having Jill along at first, although, it turned out to be fortuitous that we didn't attempt a challenging hike, because...

Feet: Something has changed; either my feet have expanded, or my boots have changed shape, or the new-fangled synthetic hiking socks are bad for hiking, or having dirty feet irritates my skin, or something else. I have to figure out what the problem is. I could always take my feet basically for granted before; just stuff them in my trusty old hiking boots, and they'd be tired after 10 miles, but otherwise just fine. This time I got terrible blisters after just about 3 miles. Must debug this problem before any future serious outings are contemplated.

People: Items to score people on as camping companions: 1) Are they interested in the same recreational activities as others in the group, or, if not, will they cheerfully amuse themselves? 2) Which better describes their attitude towards the food that Sweetie and I cook: "grateful" or "picky"? 3) How picky are they about sharing a tent? 4) Do they spontaneously do things like pack and unpack, set up and tear down tents, start campfires, clean up the campsite, etc., without prodding? I don't know where I'm going to find too many folks who get high marks on all these measures; maybe I should start going to organized outings such as AMC or Sierra Club stuff.