Home away from home

It's taken me awhile to translate this post from brain to cyber-world. We just arrived home recently from a vacation on child-hood pasttime river banks in Fairmont, WV. I can't remember what age I was when I last swam in the Tygart river, hunted for turtles the morning after a "clapper" thunderstorm, or lay tuckered out on the squeaky mattresses awaiting sleep to come and take me under the mozy rhythym of a floor fan: a pathetic attempt to cool the room in late-July's raging humidity.
Mom thinks I was 15 or so,... I can only think of being 9 yrs old there. My family, on the otherhand has been a faithful visitor to our camp, old Glen. Every year, pockets of our distant family gather to unwind in the sticks of WV- on the old Tygart river, who gains more conversation than the weather; "How's the river looking this year?" "She's a bit low today"... or "She's a bit high". They rally to enjoy everything beautiful about this timecapsule paradise: The ropeswing, canoe trips, swimming thru narrow daredevil tunnels of rocks as old as the sun 8 or so feet below the surface, fishing, exploring, lazy hammock swings, campfires, tasting the local brews, funnel cakes in town and taking ruthless runs down Pinchgut Rd.
We took the whole fam this year: The first time for Brian and the boys. We met up with my immediate family, who traveled from Maine and New Hampshire in the stead of a trip out to New Hampshire (on our part). I'll have to split up the pics into different events since so many lovely things happened in short days. For now, here's just a glimpse of camp.