Although I was born in Ogdensburg, when I was just two months old, my family moved out to Washington. My parents purchased a small piece of mosquito-infested property on a river roughly two hours away that was wide enough for boating, but that a reasonable athlete could probably throw a stone across.
The property was just over the state line in Idaho and it was there that my love for camping, swimming and nature truly began.
I remember packing into a van with the seats pulled out and the excitement building on the trip as my brothers and I formulated plans for the weekend.
The property had a steep decline from the road to the river and we had a three-wheeler we’d have to pop the clutch on to start and on the way down, then turn out of the way before hitting the water.
It might not have met modern safety standards, but we had a lot of fun.
One year, my brothers and I even attempted to carve a canoe from a fallen tree. We hacked away at the log with hatchets all summer until there was enough room to fit inside, but our adventure was short lived when the log rolled, since we hadn’t done much to the outside of it.
We moved to New York when I was nearly 12. And I was again fortunate enough to live on a farm where woods were accessible. I’d often make my way out into those woods and camp. A few times I even went on horseback, which was also a pretty neat experience. It also made for some great “capture the flag” paintball games.
In high school I spent a lot of time out on the St. Lawrence River, camping frequently on what many call Big Island, near Lisbon beach. In those days it was also a hot spot for high school parties, with sometimes well over 100 kids from surrounding areas attending.
After returning to the area as an adult after finishing college, I still often camped on that island and I slowly began to learn just how special this area is for those who enjoy the outdoors.
Not long after moving back to the area, I tried backpacking. One of the first…
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