(JKM's Note: This week in my dad's journal, he ponders the pull of the Great Outdoors, and the impact of nature on his life).
Under Blue Skies & Canvas
By Ken Muir
If we are fortunate in life there is a place where an arrival lifts our spirits immediately. For me that place is the woods. Ever since I was quite young, arrival in a patch of woods lifted my spirits and raised prospects of fun.
I mull the possibility that my very early experiences on my grandmother’s farm in Gore, Oklahoma, kindled in me a love for being outdoors. (This part of my life would have been during 1944-45 while my father was still in combat in Italy.) According to family lore, I was given a measure of freedom in roaming the farm property. Robert’s return to Gore in June, 1945, changed everything and set in motion our family life.
Settling in our rented spaces, first on Fairfield Ave. in West Caldwell (the house, barn and outhouse are long gone) and then at 212 Baldwin St. in Glen Ridge, allowed this penchant for “woodsy wandering” to grow even further. But our 1952 relocation to 115 Winding Way in Cedar Grove (the first house the family owned) gave wide room to my desire to explore undeveloped and forested areas. There was a small patch of woods literally a stone’s throw from our backyard, as well as a larger one at the north end of the block.
Peckman’s Brook, which winds through much of the center of Cedar Grove, along with the large, open acreage around the Essex County Mental Hospital (Overbrook), gave us spacious areas to discover and use for imaginative play and for hunting down poor amphibious & reptilian creatures. “Playing guns” was our default activity, with either WW II or the Cowboy West being our chosen milieu. Using my father’s cast-off military bits and the German Army helmet he brought home from Italy; a spice of historical reality inspired our combative fantasies.
As we were permitted to roam further and further from home, the large, forested area west of Fairview Avenue became our favored playground. While on a map this is “Second Watchung Mountain,” we knew it simply as “the mountain.” Comprised of scores of acres of woodland, the area was completely undev-eloped as late as the 1970s. The climb was demanding, quite steep in places….rock strewn, vine entangled. During the 1930s there had been a competitive motorcycle climb here. Carrying our hunting knives, we climbed and ran about joyously.
Nestled in this mid-fifties time frame was the event which likely had the greatest influence; one month at Camp Hunt during the summer of 1955. Situated in the rolling hills and farm country outside Hubbards-ville, NY, this first stay at camp was the happiest month of my life up to that point……new friends and experiences, Nature close at hand all around, freedom from Ellen’s repressive regime….There was a subtle magic here for me.
The boy campers stayed in army surplus, eight-man pyramidal tents, sleeping on wire-spring, steel-frame cots. The mattress was 2-3 inches thick, covered in cotton ticking. A sheet and an army blanket from home completed the accommodations, and the bed had to be made up for a demanding inspection each morning, a quarter made to bounce from mid-bed. When not in the daily Bible-based classes and worship services, I amused myself with Huckleberry Finnand Goodbye Mr. Chips.
The greatest joy, however, came from our daily activities, most of them out of doors. We swam in a true, mud-bottomed, reed- filled, frog-equipped swimming hole almost every day. Softball and other group games were frequent, but the games of “capture the flag” with more than seventy participants were the greatest joy. Frequent trips, on foot or by auto, spiced our daily routine; Chenango County waterfalls, wilderness fire towers, swim spots in the Finger Lakes region, “snipe hunts,” and just plain old hikes through the woods by day or by night——-all entertained us and made the days pass quickly. And every night the canopy of brilliant stars soared above us, undimmed by light pollution.
And the end of each day was unvarying; the playing of ”Taps” by the bugler and the settling down under canvas fragrant with the paraffin solution used to preserve it and keep it waterproof.
Thus began my lifelong love of tenting.
A return to Camp Hunt three years later, this time with Jerry accompanying me and for only a two-week stay, lacked the magic of that first sojourn. But that first month, in July, 1955, was jewel-like, garnished with bumptious “canteen” visits every afternoon where candy and “soda-pop” could be purchased via our personal accounts.
And sweetest of all was my first romantic crush…on Millie Summerlin, a student from Freed-Hardeman College who worked as a camp counselor. She was eighteen and I eleven, but what the heck….I could dream..…!
My returning home with the “Best Camper Boy” medal—-and the Verona-Cedar Grove Times article it triggered—-was sweet also. My Dad said little but was proud.
Seven years later, TNT club outings at Harding College just reinforced this love of living outdoors, even if I had only a single blanket for ground sleeping in late October. Farmlands and woods hosted our adventures.
An eleven-year hiatus then intervened as “our life” took on whole new directions. Marriage, jobs, children, housing ——a host of more important concerns shouldered aside any possibilities of camping out.
Brookdale Park and the other lovely Essex County parks (Edgemont Park and Verona Park were also among our favorites) subbed in as outdoor spaces when Lara and John were very young. Each park possessed its own beauty and wonder.
But soon the kids were old enough to carry stuff, and we were off to parts and parks previously unexplored!! Hacklebarney State Park, Stokes State Forest, Tillman’s Ravine, Ringwood Manor Park
and many lesser woodsy and historic places soon joined our list of destinations.
The acquisition of the “old blue truck” (1955 International Harvester Step-van) from our neighbors the Alts again changed the rotational axis of our world.
While no truly smart person would ever have purchased the “old blue truck,” Ken forged ahead with the idea in hope that it would open up a camping future for the family. It did…after a fashion. Despite its intermittent mechanical problems, the truck, now equipped with a home-built tent storage box overhead, made possible trips to Allaire State Park, Newport, RI, the Adirondack Mountains, Williamsburg, VA, Wilmington, NC and other locations. We pitched our tents in each of these scenic spots and ..usually.. came home with dry canvas. Iconic historical sites were central to each trip, as three years of blue truck travel sped quickly by. Our appetite for truck-based camping was now fully whetted, and we waited anxiously until we could afford a new truck to extend our range and comfort.
In April of 1978 we purchased our very empty Ford Econoline. 150 van in two-tone green($5800) Its only interior amenity was a driver’s seat on a pedestal. We promptly went to work cutting holes everywhere…..for sliding, screened side windows, for a roof scoop air vent, for a commodious roof rack and for an iconic Iron Cross window in the sliding door. Long-fiber green carpet fastened to plywood soon lined all four surfaces of the truck interior, and a sofa bed and home-built cabinetry completed the rear cabin accommodations. In front, the driver and passenger relished the comfort and support of twin leatherette captain’s chairs. The engine was a “straight six.”
These improvements were bittersweet because much of the cost was underwritten by the $1,000 sale of our beloved 1968 Plymouth Barracuda ($3,400 new). But we needed the cash and no longer had room in the driveway for the new truck, the ’77 Honda Civic and the ‘Cuda.
Our “shakedown trip” in the new truck was to North Carolina during the summer of 1978. Junkyard seats served in the rear because we had not yet acquired the faux leather sofa-bed. A state park near Wilmington was our destination, and we experienced the delight of 88-degree water temperatures for the first time……..not exactly the Jersey shore!
1978 also featured our camping trip to Orlando, Florida. We toured Disney World, learned to “live wet” in tents, and we loved Christopher Reeve in “Superman”!!
1979 turned out to be the culmination of all we had been working toward…….our inaugural cross-country camping trip! First pitching our tents on the shores of Lake Michigan, we moved steadily across the Upper Plains states and the Pacific Northwest. We ultimately camped in fourteen states and stayed out for six full weeks, putting 10,000 miles on the odometer. The weather was great and the scenery spectacular.
I will not recall the details of this trip, as they are too manifold
Several hundred Kodak slides document our travels, and you kids were now old enough to remember many of the details…….and the occasional drama! Suffice to say, it was the greatest travel that I ever experienced. Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, the Badlands. and the dinosaur park in the Dakotas, the Devil’s Tower, Yellowstone National Park and the beauty of the Tetons, the Clearwater River Valley, the Snake River and the vast Columbia, Portland, the first views of the Pacific, our hideaway campsite in southern Oregon just in from the Coast, San Francisco with its myriad wonders, Yosemite National Park, redwood stands and “all things John Muir,” camping at Lake Tahoe, back to Utah for the Dinosaur National Monument and the Green River Gorge, the final descent through the Front Range of the Rockies, relaxing in the shadow of Long’s Peak beside crystal clear, snow-melt streams and waterfalls.. We filled our memory banks as well as slide trays with gorgeous images of America’s natural beauty.
Our second cross-country trip three years later was but a pale imitation of the first. Crossing the country now from the 1982 World’s Fair in Knoxville, Tennessee to the Gulf in Alabama, and then west via New Orleans, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. We arrived at the Pacific once again, this time in San Diego. Nevada regaled us with the beauties of Lake Mead and the Hoover Dam. Reno charmed us briefly, and then we headed east across Utah. Bryce and Zion national parks awed with their beauty. Colorado served once again as our gateway out of the West, and we headed for home.
Camping in ten or more states, spending almost five weeks “on the road,” we again logged 10,000 miles and witnessed America and Americans at first hand…….doing our own version of the iconic book, “Blue Highways” by Wm. L H Moon.
Inevitably, much of my enjoyment of these trips, especially the first, was informed by my considerable reading about the opening of the American West. The beautiful prose of Bernard DeVoto stands out especially here, and I am afraid that this internal, reading-based vision of the natural world around us led to seemingly interminable vistas of rock formations, lush forests, and mountain ranges. I apologize to you three fellow travelers….thanks for indulging me.
Our tenting travel took a back seat for a while after 1982, as we spent several happy summers at Deer Lake in NJ. GRHS marching band and all the panoply of high school activities took center stage for several years, and then the 1987 purchase of a home building lot in Mint Hill changed the family’s life trajectory profoundly. College plans and aspirations, critical promotions at Ken’s job, house-painting summers, and the advent of romance and marriage in our children’s lives added whole new dimensions to our happy life journey. Only at Jekyll Island, Georgia, did we again put up our tents during these very busy years.
Ken’s penchant for camping and “living under canvas” went through one more iteration following our move to North Carolina. In a first abortive attempt, we bought in Rutherford a used pop-up camper trailer which we towed down here with our F-150 Ford pick-up. It sat unused on the rear apron for eight years, as we were too busy with the new house and property and with our new jobs to find the time to use it.
Finally, in 2005, a chance visit to a camping store in Matthews introduced us to a new idea…..a camping trailer with fold-out, canvas-shrouded sleeping areas at both ends. We spent several months searching NC for the “perfect” camper, and ultimately selected a 25’ Jayco model. $15,800 later we were ready to roll!!
Life, however, had its own plan, and two cancer diagnoses in ten years played havoc with our travel hopes. We managed to pull off several trips in NC along with one to Alabama and one to Virginia.
And travel was made easier when we swapped the F-150 for a 2008 Toyota Tundra truck. It offered smooth towing power all day long!
Our new circumstances forced the sale of the Jayco in 2016, and our “life under canvas” came, too soon, to an end. The “blue skies,” however, remain!
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