Megan and Glenn’s Annual Father/Daughter Camping Trip: #1 (August 24-25, 2006)

Ages:

Glenn: 36

Megan: 5 ¾

Place: NEW YORK (North/South Lake; Catskill Mts.)

Duration: 21 hours

Activities: Reading Goosebumps book in the tent as rain blankets the entire Northeast

Fun rating from Megan on scale of 1-10: 10!

“Big Fat Meanie!???” … so goes the (endearing?) moniker that Megan used for me inecessantly on this 21-hour whirlwind of a trip to the Catskill Mountains. Yes, Megan decided after having watched a recent Spongebob episode that “Big Fat Meanie” would be a funny thing to say to her Daddy. In fact, she started calling me that right after I got her a large milkshake from Burger King in New Paltz as we started our drive towad the Catskills. She wanted chocolate, but the chocolate one I initially got her was banana-laden … so we had to return it for vanilla – my having done so is what initially earned me the revered title of Big Fat Meanie …

I couldn’t help it – I laughed and laughed! OK then: Big Fat Meanie it is!

So the plan was to drive to NorthSouth Lake – the largest state-run campground in the Catskills – to camp, fish, hike, boat, swim, and bond. I love my little girl so much and she’s growing up SO FAST. The idea for this annual getaway came from SUNY New Paltz president Steve Poskanzer – he and his daughter do an annual trip each year. When he told me about this idea, it immediately clicked with me – what a great thing. I figured we could make it a camping excursion (I don’t make presidential money … yet) – and I figured we could start easy – one night in our homestate (Steve and his daughter do a new state each year).

So that’s the idea.

40% chance of rain, according to the weather reports – I’ll take it!

Well, as it turns out, “40%” translates, roughly, into “absolutely, unequivocally, without-fail.” So as we travelled up the Thruway, the rain starts. When we get off the exit toward the campground, we hit the detour – totally poorly marked. It added an hour to a 50-minute trip. That was OK, though, as it allowed for about 200 extra gleeful shouts of “Big Fat Meanie” from the peanut gallery in the back of the Subaru. Or was it 250?

As we made it further into the mountains, rain turned to intense downpour. Great.

Finally: The campground! In the middle of NOWHERE! Perfect! As we parked the car to register for a site with the ranger, downpour turned immediately into hail-laden thunderstorm. Fantastic! Megan caught several little balls of ice. She stomped in puddles. She was delighted!

“We’re hoping to camp in the rain tonight.” I say to the ranger. It turns out there was a site available for us!

The only factor on the trip more constant than utterances of Big Fat Meanie was, as it turned out, of course, rain. “That’s OK – it’s good for the plants,” offered Megan – a wonderful phrase couched between Big Fat Meanies.

“Yes!!!!!” replied I. That’s exactly the kind of attitude I want to help develop in this girl! Not too hard, as it turns out. When it gets down to it – once the going gets tough (yeah, after 36 years of living – 9 of which as husband, 6 of which as father – I realize that sometimes this happens), Megan invariably rises to the occasion. So nice to see!

The campsite is a beautiful mud puddle surrounded by bits of grass and dense, old forest. We set up camp by about 6:30. In spite of the ubiquitous dampness, I make a roaring fire! (years of campfires in the backyard – I’m finally getting the hang of it!). As I’m setting up camp, the ice cream man appears!!!! … Iconic white truck and all! Totally surreal! I buy Megan a Spongebob pop (which, I could swear, mumbled “Big Fat Meanie” as the wrapper came off …).

What’s after ice cream?! Dinnertime! Given that I had complete control over the menu – coupled with my penchant for simplicity in all aspects of life – I brought 6 hot dogs and some old, frozen hamburger buns (for sides, we had cashews and bananas – fancy!!!! Kathy would have loved this menu!).

The hot dogs end up all burned on one side and cold on the other. We eat them anyway – generally happily – and refer to them as ‘warm dogs.’

Of course, it rains and rains and rains. And rains. And rains.

Megan is covered in my Gore Tex jacket – her little face poking out toward the fire. I’m in shorts and t-shirt on this lovely evening -- 62 degrees and sopping.

By 7:30, Megan says she’s ready to go into the tent. Now I teach Statistics and I know a thing or two about math. If we head in now, and wake up at 7:30 in the morning, we’ll end up spending 12 hours in my one-person, 5’ by 7’, backpacking tent. That just doesn’t seem good! I stall. I pretend to not hear plain-spoken words such as, “I want to go in the tent now, Big Fat Meanie!” I try to play up the fun side of sitting in the rain and shivering. By 7:45, we’re in the tent …

A miracle – dry and cozy inside! We got into PJs and dry sleeping bags. Nice.

“Where’s Froggy, you Big Fat Meanie?” … Of course, Froggy is the can’t-be slept-without stuffed animal that travels everywhere with Megan. OH NO!!!!! …. HE’S IN THE CAR!!!!! I explain where Froggy is and that I’ll get Froggy when I get up to pee in the night (an occurrence that usually tranpires 2-3 times … at least … not exactly the highlight of camping for me …). “OK, you Big Fat Meanie.”

Really?! Phew!!!!! Gosh, there’s that rise-to-the-occasion attitude again! Love it.

So by light of my reliable old flashlight, we read the Goosebumps book we brought – about the lawn gnomes that terrorize the neighborhood. We love that book – it is so funny!

And we sleep.

And it rains.

By 8am we’re up. We exit the tent into the wetness that hasn’t ceased.

We drive to the local diner (along with all the other people at this 200-site campground in peak summer). We have breakfast after about an hour of waiting for service.

We drive back to the campground. We try to fish for 5 minutes. In the rain.

Then, as Megan sits dryly in the Subaru – practicing the mantra Big Fat Meanie like a highly experienced Buddhist monk on a mountaintop – I take down the stuff and pack up the car. Wet, wet, wet!

Then we drive home to New Paltz.

On the drive home, I have to ask: “Megan, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 meaning not fun at all and 10 meaning very fun, what would you rate our first father/daughter camping trip?”

At this point, she’s smiling contentedly in the backseat. She doesn’t hesitate: “10 you Big Fat Meanie!”

Success!

Rain or shine, this tradition will continue in 2007!