We were one of only three occupied sites that miserable weekend. We set up a tarp so we could keep a smoldering fire going and make dinner. The tarp's edges filled with water, drooped and left us wetter than if we had just stood in the rain.
It was cold. It was the penetrating wet cold of early October pretending to be winter. We had packed for rain and we had packed for cold, but we had not for wet cold that didn't seem to go away. We were young, not even married a year, so we didn't really think of it as miserable at the time. We were on an 'adventure' and delighted to have the State Park almost to ourselves.
When the boy scout troop left only a few hours after they had arrived, we began to rethink what kind of adventure we were on. We laughed it off and though of ourselves as even tougher than those wimpy scouts. We layered up with some fleece and wool fabric that I had purchased that morning at the Woolrich Outlet. Woolrich sold the scraps of fabric from the mill so inexpensively that they put it on a scale and priced it by the pound. We wrapped strips and squares around our necks and covered our backs before putting our raincoats back on overtop. We stuffed pieces down our pant legs. We looked like ridiculous imitations of the Michelin Man. We laughed at ourselves as we finished dinner of T's classic "Grolpo" (recipe below)
It was cold. It was the penetrating wet cold of early October pretending to be winter. We had packed for rain and we had packed for cold, but we had not for wet cold that didn't seem to go away. We were young, not even married a year, so we didn't really think of it as miserable at the time. We were on an 'adventure' and delighted to have the State Park almost to ourselves.
When the boy scout troop left only a few hours after they had arrived, we began to rethink what kind of adventure we were on. We laughed it off and though of ourselves as even tougher than those wimpy scouts. We layered up with some fleece and wool fabric that I had purchased that morning at the Woolrich Outlet. Woolrich sold the scraps of fabric from the mill so inexpensively that they put it on a scale and priced it by the pound. We wrapped strips and squares around our necks and covered our backs before putting our raincoats back on overtop. We stuffed pieces down our pant legs. We looked like ridiculous imitations of the Michelin Man. We laughed at ourselves as we finished dinner of T's classic "Grolpo" (recipe below)
Gralpo
(feeds two wet, hungry campers; one if you are really hungry)
T made this frequently as an undergraduate student. His roommate thought it looked like Alpo dog food and christened it "Gralpo". It stuck. So did the recipe...we still make some variation of it on camping and backpacking trips. Now that he isn't a student anymore, T adds pricier pineapple and might use name-brand Rice-A Roni for the starch.
(1) box store brand mac-n-cheese
(1) can petite peas or green beans, drained
(1-2) hot dogs, sliced
Make mac-n-cheese with milk and butter as per directions
And drained peas and sliced hot dog. Stir and heat.
Serve, or eat out of cooking pot so you need not do dishes.
[Note: you do not want to see a picture of Gralpo]
[Note: you do not want to see a picture of Gralpo]
So you might be wondering about the title of this post..."blueberry pie"?
Well, we had finishing up washing our dishes, when we noticed that a couple was taking a stroll in the rain through the campground. The only other campers in the entire 155 site campground, they stopped and chatted under the shelter of our tarp and soon invited us to join them for some pie. Pointing to their site at the other end of the campground we caught the silver glint of their Airstream trailer. They walked back to their site only after they had gotten our promise to come along when we were finished tidying things up.
When they welcomed us into the trailer it was so warm that the blast of heat made me stumble up the step. And it was dry and smelled of pie. It was dry! We were so wet we steamed.
They had hot coffee and hot pie. The most amazing blueberry pie had come out of that little oven in that little silver trailer. They regaled us with stories of where they'd been in their earlier days hiking and traveling. I don't recall the specifics of their stories; I just remember thinking as I ate the pie and thawed my bones that these people were so very happy to share their pie, and their warmth, and that I so very much appreciated that they had chosen me to share it with. In the more than two dozen years that have passed, I have often thought of that couple, and their Airstream trailer. I wonder if I am now the age they were then. And I can't have blueberry pie without thinking how I wish I had asked for their address, so we might keep in touch.
They had hot coffee and hot pie. The most amazing blueberry pie had come out of that little oven in that little silver trailer. They regaled us with stories of where they'd been in their earlier days hiking and traveling. I don't recall the specifics of their stories; I just remember thinking as I ate the pie and thawed my bones that these people were so very happy to share their pie, and their warmth, and that I so very much appreciated that they had chosen me to share it with. In the more than two dozen years that have passed, I have often thought of that couple, and their Airstream trailer. I wonder if I am now the age they were then. And I can't have blueberry pie without thinking how I wish I had asked for their address, so we might keep in touch.
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| Betty Crocker's Classic Blueberry Pie |
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