I once told Meghan that I could not be married to a woman who has never spent a night in a tent, and she promised she would one night remove that final caveat. A few weeks ago, she made good on her promise and we loaded up the motorcycle for a two-night wilderness extravaganza.
I had plans of exploring New York’s State Parks, and having never had a problem camping before, decided on a lark to call the park and make a reservation “just in case.” It turned out that EVERY state park in the tri-state area was “sold out” for the Saturday night of Memorial Day weekend. I was not aware that you could “sell out” of room in the woods, but I guess I am used to finding some ground and pitching a tent, not contending with motorized land barges some call “campers,” and staying at sites with their own electrical outlets.
We decided to head north to Vermont, where there is a large National Forest that allows camping anywhere. Within the forest we managed to find a State Park offering flush toilets and some other rudimentary amenities that seemed like a good compromise for Meghan’s first night in the woods. We setup camp, and then rode to the nearest grocery store for provisions. After a false start, we procured some sausages and other goodies, and Meghan made the official “hot dog sticks” for cooking dinner. A long ride and nice meal behind us, we settled in for a good nights sleep and woke up early to break camp.
We next headed to a park in CT, one of the few with “room” on Sunday night. The place was packed with kids, campers and the general teeming masses. I was impressed when Meghan said she preferred the more rugged camping of the night before, and despite the crowds we had some tasty hot dogs cooked over the open fire for dinner.
Our next nefarious plan is to head north on two bikes, riding to Nova Scotia and perhaps even taking the ferry up to Newfoundland to see why all the Canadians make fun of their “Newfie” brethren. Stay tuned…