Scotch eggs, wrapped in foil and heated by the fire during set up
Hot Dogs. buns, ketchup, mustard
Mountain man breakfast with biscuits
snackage and drinks
Pot roast with taters, parsnip, onion, celery, mushroom brown gravy
pie, ice cream
pie iron waffles, syrup, bacon
my brother, a bushcrafty minister without a flock, the white sheep of the family.
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.
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.
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.