Thursday, May 8, 2008

WE OPENED CAMP

We opened camp this past week.

As I wrote the first draft of this item, it was late, past midnight. The temp was in the low thirties, cold even for Michigan.

The sky was an Up North Sky, black-blue and sparkly starry.

The drive North is several hours, a fun part of the opening ritual. Routine pit stops and food stops.

Opening a Camp after six months of a Michigan winter is a busy proposition. There is always a lot to do. You can get a little dirty.

Opening up and airing out; water and sewer reactivation; greeting neighbors doing the same things; walking down to the lake; making endless lists of things to do; running errands here and there; cleaning out cupboards and storage lockers; refilling propane tanks; cleaning the grill; and planning when to get the boat down to the dock. And the list goes on. And on.

And there are the sunny days; the rainy days; the warm and cold days and nights. Really cold some nights.

There are the first cooking of meals: the first cocktail hour; the first lighting of the grill. First times are always special. That must be one of the special things about being a kid, always doing things for the first time.

There is the homey smell of the closed up camp. So full of...so many memories.

How sweet it is.

And here and there the wildflowers are peeking up through the flotsam of the winter.

We passed a two small groups of deer on the way in to the camp: five in one and three in the other. And wild turkeys.

And the birds which we never see or hear downstate.

And there are the favorite restaurants, in all three of our favourite nearby towns. Manhattans in one are $3.50, the best I have had anywhere in the US and in the UK. And the salmon and the perch and the burgers.

The towns appear sleepy at the end of April. Some eateries are not even open, or open only for a reduced scheduled. They are waiting for folks like us.

How sweet it is.

A fantasy would be to be among the folks waiting for the ‘summer folk’, the Fudgies, the Downstaters.

A fantasy. Maybe being a Fudgie is the next best thing.

And there are the birds we never see or hear at home…always a treat to see one we have never seen or have forgotten.

And the rekindling of memories…of so many years ago…memories of this Camp and of others of our youth.

Our neighborhood in The North acquired wireless this year. Yep! We have to rough it with a laptop and martinis in paper cups. What ya gonna do?

We passed one bear crossing sign. What can I say? We kept an even sharper lookout.

We make it a habit, as far as possible, not to shop the Northern branches of the downstate chain stores. We have two superb local groceries; miniature drug stores; and a whole host of delightful venues to take care of most needs.

The big guys we use when we have to.

The North lives.

Thank the Good Lord.

1 comment:

Upnorfjoel said...

Beautiful Paul! My "homesickness" for Leelanau just increased ten-fold reading your article.

I'm writing tonight from our hotel in Chicago. An advanced scouting trip for a new home, school, etc.. Just trying to understand the locale.

A bit down tonight as we have realized the real distance from what is so familiar to us in dear old Michigan. And Leelanau is part of that. By all estimates, close to six hours from here! That is beyond our threshold for the standard weekend (Friday night to Sunday night)which I have been part of since I was six years old; heading to various spots "up north".

Of course, then there is the price of gasoline! How will that affect all of us "up northers"?

No wonder we're feeling down. Trips will be much fewer and far between. Not sure that we'll even stay in Leelanau beyond this coming season. If we do, it will become even more precious to us.

Sigh.........