Three Days of Gluttony

The Adventurer, Vernon Wade

Vernon was born in the Pacific Northwest and still lives in the shadow of Mt. Hood, near the small town where he grew up. Vernon has spent decades wandering the hills, hunting mushrooms, camping and riding motorcycles into the remotest nooks and crannies to be found in the region.

 3-day Menu 

Day 1


Scotch eggs, wrapped in foil and heated by the fire during set up


Hot Dogs. buns, ketchup, mustard

Baked beans

Day 2


Mountain man breakfast with biscuits


snackage and drinks


Pot roast with taters, parsnip, onion, celery, mushroom brown gravy


pie, ice cream


Day 3


pie iron waffles, syrup, bacon


The Gluttons



my brother, a bushcrafty minister without a flock, the white sheep of the family.

Cap’n Ron

co-worker and mighty woodsman, Paul Bunyan and Anne Raynd’s illegitimate love child


The most eligible and most dissolute bachelor at the Beth-El Shalom

Bridget and Nolan

My niece and her husband, who were under the misapprehension that camping with her uncles would involve something more than constant eating and an endless river of liquor.


My dear friend of forty years or so, who still condescends to camp with me, after all these years of misadventures.


Yours truly, a legend in my own mind.


            Since I organized the expedition, I chose the theme for our campout: gluttony. Activities would revolve around cooking, eating, drinking and repose.

            I met Mike and Cap’n Ron at the trailhead Friday after work. We hauled the water and canvas into camp and set up the tipis, finishing just as the sun set. Mike and I headed back to town for the rest of our gear and provisions, leaving the Cap’n to hold down the fort until our return the next day.

Cap’n Ron, Mike and I set up the tipis Friday after work.

With the tipis set up, Mike and I went back to town, leaving Cap’n Ron to hold down the camp.






We would return Saturday morning with the provisions and the rest of our kit.


           Saturday morning, Robert showed up at my house as I finished loading the truck. We arrived at Chanty Camp shortly before noon. Andy and Mike got there about the same time.

            Cap’n Ron had stretched canvas over the kitchen wickiup and kindled a fire. We hung a Dutch oven filled with frozen Scotch eggs over the flames to warm while we humped our luggage up the trail. Walter Dawg pulled the heavier loads in with his cart.

Oreo keeps an eye on lunch while we retrieve our gear from the trucks.




Robert and Walter pass on the trail. It took numerous trips to get all our gear and provisions into camp.








Walter hauling the kitchen into camp.




  Our bunks were made, the kitchen organized and the Scotch eggs were piping hot; we had just popped open our beers and were preparing to enjoy our lunch when Walter alerted us to the arrival of Bridget and Nolan. They had driven past camp but found us on their return trip, showing up just in time to eat. And so it began.

Camp pitched, waiting on lunch.

Cap’n Ron in front of his lodge.

Scotch eggs, hot from the fire.







After lunch it was time for dinner, so we retired to the kitchen shelter to roast hot dogs..






The camp glowed softly as dusk gathered around us.

Robert brought out his harp after dinner.

Carrying a shovel full of coals, we moved the fire into the lodges.










Leaving the dishes until morning seemed like a good idea – until morning came.







We had coffee, expresso, and tea all brewing at once.










We had a Mountain Man Breakfast baked in the 12″ dutch oven.







Of course, there were more dishes to do after breakfast (thanks, Andy).





After breakfast, Cap’n Ron set out to cut some firewood (safety third).

Andy took some nature photographs.
















The rest of us scattered through the woods and amused ourselves for a couple of hours before returning to camp.

Andy lashed together a new frame for our table.

I changed into my party clothes and fired up the dutch ovens to start dinner cooking.





While dinner was cooking we snacked and had a few drinks

….and whiled away a pleasant afternoon in sedentary pursuits.










There was pot roast with vegetables…

….and hot cornbread and brown mushroom gravy.











I baked a rhubarb pie for desert.

Bridget helped me dish up. The ice cream survived on dry ice in a cooler inside another cooler.









After dinner, recreational drinking resumed in earnest.


the revelry continued well after dark.







When local gravity became too intense, we retired to our lodges and eventually slipped into unconsciousness.







Sunrise Monday morning, our last day in camp.


We gathered in the wickiup to wake up, each with a steaming cup of tea or coffee.







When we had a good bed of coals, I preheated the waffle irons, fried the sausage patties and mixed up some batter.







We took turns cooking our waffles to a golden brown.

Apricot syrup!









After breakfast we started to strike camp, unlacing the covers..

We folded the canvas back and dropped the lifting poles to the ground.









We rolled up the canvas and stuffed the covers in the bags.

After the tipis were packed it was simply a matter of carting everytning else to the truck.









It took until mid-afternoon to get everything packed..

But finally we had the trucks loaded, garbage policed and fires drowned dead out.

















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