Campy

After studying the 6 or so camping areas and viewing the 800 or so campsites via the Internet map The Don & I select what we think is the perfect site. Lakefront, a stone’s throw from the bath house & in viewing distance of the boat launch it seems ideal and the great thing is there are no other sites booked on either side.

We head to the vast wasteland that is our 2 car garage and start unearthing & assembling the  camping equipment we have amassed over 35 years. When my son, Matt stumbles upon us and sees 2/3 of the garage contents scattered across 5 acres of property he correctly assumes we are preparing for a camp trip. The sight of all this junk must stir some deep-seated memories of historic Russo camping adventures like six of us crammed into one downhill corner of a tent in the Great Smoky Mountains or breaking down along a dusty back road near Appomattox Courthouse in 95 degree heat for 5 hours or my personal favorite epic canoe trip along the Delaware Water Gap where we almost lost a canoe and drowned in rapids – ah, adventure!

I start quoting literary works that evoke the essence of the pioneer spirit I delude myself into thinking I posses: Walt Whitman’s, O Pioneer!, JRR Tolkien “not all who wander are lost” (Matt chimes in with “Camping is great, if you like pretending you’re homeless”) Imagine my surprise when Matt actually decides to accompany us with Damian. Once he commits, Matt now assembles his own version of a “bug out bag” which includes a flare gun, paracords and military style water bottles. He also has 3 knives of various sizes strapped to various appendages (one even has a compass embedded into the hilt and is filled with waterproof matches). He resembles what I imagine the Unibomber looked like when he was hiding out in the Montana wilderness.

(Note large knife strapped to side)

Now it’s into the car and onward Christian soldiers! As usual the Russomobile is jam packed with camping “necessities” like 2 computers, 3 portable video game systems and a cast iron frying pan.

(Russo men bearing bungee cords)

It’s a gorgeous day to drive and our check of the weather promises a nice 2 days with what I hope to be luminous lunar looking tonight. We head down 95 to 85 and then it gets interesting once we follow our directions onto the rural roads that will take us to our destination.

While driving along NC 39 we encounter a woman walking a herd of goats along the side of the road. She harbored an expression that I myself have shown when I was impatiently waiting for my children to stop playing with the ant on the sidewalk & get into the damn car! The goats were meandering along consuming any and all vegetation in their path and their mistress looked like she just wanted to get home. The goats showed no such interest. Where they came from and where they were going to was pretty hard to figure out since we were IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. A little further down the road and we passed a roadside farm stand (well, it was more like someones house with a card table and a few boxes out in front) with a sign advertising & I quote, “TOMAYTERS/MELLUNS” We assumed that somehow the goat woman and this household shared a connection.

Not long after this close encounter of the goat kind we arrive at Section 1 site #8 in the Henderson Point area at Kerr Lake. It is everything I have envisioned and we quickly get to unpacking and setting up camp.

(What? You don’t camp with a canopy and carpet?)

It is beautiful and the lake beckons so Damian notices some children out in the water & I notice that the campsite directly next to mine (and NO OTHER) is occupied.

I am not sure if you are big fans of The Simpsons, however, they hold an honored place on the Russo Tivo schedule. You know when shows post a disclaimer that any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is a coincidence? Do not believe it. We are camping along side the actual family of Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel.

Oh Sweet Jesus Please Help Us!