Walking through the Taconic State Campground at Rudd Pond I had the same thought I always have

Camping in campgrounds is not for me. It strikes me too much like my apartment or living in the city. I’m sure you’d be in big trouble if you shot some guns, burned some plastic wrappers and plates, listened to some music too loud or even spoke to loud. Or smoked some real smelly grass. Don’t forget you have to buy the firewood wrapped in plastic and quiet hours – that means complete silence is from 10-7 pm.

Such a high level of control and discipline is not for me. It’s not the wilderness experience I crave both when I stay up in the woods or when I own my homestead. I don’t want to smell my neighbors burning barrel but I want the freedom to burn whatever, have smelly livestock that produce manure, shoot guns and make as much noise as I want at the bonfire. Not just the suburban house next to a cornfield.

It won’t happen this year but I am getting closer. But in the meantime I won’t be camping in any campgrounds if I can at all avoid it.