Adirondack Sketches: Thursday, June 24, 1999
How often will a weary cashier see
long after midnight, shopping in a
Plattsburgh Price Chopper grocery
cheerful mature men, all three
giddy as kids going to summer camp?
Which we are.
Arriving near dawn,
directly to the lake we're drawn.
No need for flashlights on
this trail learned by heart
a lifetime ago.
We strip and dive
— WAHOO! —
startling the loons.
split by the moon
ice-cold on flesh
as campers, later as counselors, now as owners (and I,
friend-of-owners), we gather in late June for a long weekend to open the
cabins. There's water to turn on, pipes to repair, docks to install,
weeds to hack. In 1999 we met in the Montreal airport baggage area,
each from separate flights, near midnight and drove across the border. Customarily we
buy groceries in Plattsburgh, then drive along the Saranac River
through sleeping villages until at last we arrive at Silver Lake.
Door-to-door for me it's a 15 hour journey.