Hudson Valley Astrologer

Sure! I’ve been camping! As a kid I was part of summer troop of campers from Camp Dom Bosco in North Jersey selected to visit an abandoned Salesian retreat near the Ice Cave Mountains in Ulster County New York. I hadn’t thought about it in years but on a hike in the Sam’s Point Area of Minnewaska State Park Preserve recently, where the Ice Caves are located, the memories came flooding back. We walked along the Verkeerder Kill ( meaning stream, creek, or channel), and camped at the top of Verkeerder Kill Falls. This was the early 70’s, and I remember being entranced by rush of the water and the sun breaking through the canopy of leaves, beaming down to leave illuminated jewels on the surface of the water if only temporarily.

We slept out in the open, under the stars. The temperature dropped more than anticipated but it was no trouble at all since we had built an incredible camp fire. The smell of cedar logs burning on top of a bed of red oak is one of those unforgettable aromas. Like the smell of a New York slice, or strong morning coffee on the brew. But something about the warmth and smoky sweet-smell of that camp fire mixed with the fragrance of the Mountain Laurel in bloom stays with me to this day.

In the morning, we woke up to dew ladened sleeping bags and the pungent smell of burnt coals, being reignited for breakfast. First, we had a job to do so we had to scurry, dress, and put our hiking shoes on.

Equipped with small plastic buckets we roamed up and down the top of the falls, along the whoosh and hum of the Verkeerder Kill looking for wild blueberries. They were everywhere! And as we silently sauntered along on our mission head down, picking one plump blueberry after another, no one seemed to noticed that the stream yawned open into the wide blue sky from underneath a veil of oak trees and evergreens. If an adult hadn’t been there to shout “STOP!” and order us to turn around we might have walked right off the ledge with the rushing water, falling into the clear pool 250 feet below. Which in itself was a win, but we also had the blueberries, without which breakfast would have been incomplete.

When we got back to “camp” the fire was roaring again but now there was a contraption placed across the fire and a cast iron griddle attached. The cook was obviously waiting for us and took my bucket with one hand as he dipped a ladle into a huge bowl filled with batter… he ladled out the batter into plate sized circles and expertly dropped blue berries onto the batter just as small bubbles form on top and the bottom of the pancakes began to firm. He knew they were ready to flip when he peeked underneath the cake using a spatula to discover they were golden brown on one side. This was an all you can eat affair and after the first bite you might think you’d never stop eating these blueberry pancakes. They were that good! We finally did stop eating but only after we had our fill — there was a gallon of batter left and an infinite source of blueberries — and we weren’t able to take one more bite.

I’ve been camping numerous times since but none of those times has ever quite risen to the same level of the wonder and pure joy of discovery of the great outdoors.

HVA

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