All my life I’ve heard the story of my mom’s singular camping trip. My dad (an outdoor enthusiast) took my mom on what should have been an exciting tryst with Mother Nature, but instead turned out to be a rainy, un-air conditioned nightmare without indoor plumbing. Now, my mom is no prima donna (LOVE YOU MOM), but she likes her air conditioning. Needless to say, she never went camping again. Ipso facto, my brother and sister and I never went camping as kids. Flash forward to last weekend, and there I was chopping wood and sleeping in a teepee in Woodstock, NY.
Pit stop at Cornwall, NY sculpture park on the way to Woodstock.
Lindsey’s friend Joy had found a teepee for rent on Airbnb, so the three of us and Roe drove up to Woodstock for an outdoorsy weekend. When we got to the site, we quickly took stock of what was in store for us: a teepee, an axe, a woodpile, an outhouse, an axe. As we started unloading the car, our nice hippie landlord greeted us with a Father Time beard and a glass of wine. He showed us how to chop the wood and build the fire. So this was really happening. We rolled up our sleeves, chopped some wood and got to work. Roe stoked that fire like she was born to do it. If it wasn’t for her, we might have frozen to death. Well, maybe not exactly, but we would have been really cold.
Our teepee sat on the bank of a little creek that flowed through a beautiful wood. Woodstock at this time of year is nothing short of picturesque. Amber-colored leaves and crisp mountain air really has a way with four city gals.
After driving into town for dinner at Cucina, we returned to the teepee, layered up in our Ugg survival gear and settled in for a night of serious fire building, tarot card reading and wine drinking.
^^^We built that fire^^^ Thanks for keeping it roaring, Roe!
We slept pretty comfortably considering, save for the sound of bullet-like acorns falling off branches and onto the teepee. After brushing our teeth the next morning by the creek, we ventured into town to shop and have lunch. Then we checked into our final Airbnb: a Euro-modern house that was welcome shelter after a night without indoor plumbing. The catch? The shower knew only two temperature levels: ice cold or scalding hot. That’s what you get for wanting a warm shower on a camping weekend.
Pretty nice, right?
What’s a trip to Woodstock without participating in a drum circle…
…or sitting in a peace chariot.
I highly recommend a mountain retreat with the best of friends, it’s good for the lungs and for the soul. I also recommend watching this Hyperlapse from our first night in the teepee 😉 http://instagram.com/p/uT3NiLJosH/?modal=true