Back in the ’90s, I was an avid hiker and camper. My day hikes tended to be in the 4- to 8-mile range and my camping trips were usually three days and two nights of roughing it with the guys after a long, strenuous hike to places with scenic vistas. And, once a year, there would be a large weeklong camping trip, on a large parcel of private property, but it would be a car trip. While there were zero amenities, not even a bathroom, you could drive the average four-wheel drive vehicle through the woods to our spot. It was a beautiful place, several hundred acres in the Catskills with a mix of forest and open field, and a medium-sized stream running through it.
These trips were primarily a guys’ trip of shooting, four wheeling, open-fire cooking, and a lot of drinking. Needless to say, as sweaty and dirty as we got, with a shower unavailable and the stream
