A couple times each summer in the 1990’s my dad would pack us three kids into his truck and hook up the pop-up camper and head on over to ‘Pinchot’. Arrival was a ton of work which often included setting up the camper, unloading the canoe, getting a fire set to light, and finding the nearest bathhouse.
But it was the anticipation of what was to come that kept us motivated. Riding bikes through the campground, swimming in the lake, fishing until dusk, spending time with each other and taking advantage of all the possible activities before us. Our imaginations in this place were limitless. What we always just simply called ‘Pinchot’ as many locals do, this place and all those who made it possible, shaped the principles of how my siblings and I understood the natural world around us.
Recent Comments