Memories of Monongahela National Forest part 1

From in the tent, you could smell the camp fire already going. You could hear the voices of my Uncle Ervin and and cousin Robbie talking. It was already light enough to see inside the tent, but there was no direct sun. I could hear the sound of zippers opening and closing other camper's tent. I notice how the sound changes as the tension of the fabric changes, I climb out of the my sleeping bag and then the tent.

There are half a dozen people already up, setting on folding chairs or thick logs and drinking coffee from a beat up tin pot, which is kept on hot coals. I am handed a Pop Tart, find a seat and just enjoy watching the fire for a while.

In a few moments, my brother and cousin Ray are up. We decide to walk down to the river. It is not that far, but we get permission from the adults and head out. You can't see very far anywhere, because of the mountains and thickness of the forest, until we get to the clearing by the bend in the river. It is hear we can clearly see that the sun has not yet burned away the morning fog. The river seems to disappear into the mist and you can't even see the swinging bridge that allows you to get to the walking trails on the other side.

We pause when we get to the clearing, and then we hear it. Past the line where the trees fade into the fog, someone starts playing a bag pipe. The acoustics are strange, at first you think you know the direction it is coming from, but as you look around if feels like it could be coming from anywhere. Maybe everywhere. It is a slow rendition of Amazing Grace. It feels for a moment like we have fallen into a movie. A touch of real life magic.

We play for a bit, skipping rocks before we head back to the camp site. It is time to go swimming. More of our family joined us, parents more cousins. I think it was my Aunt Cy who first alerted us. A copperhead was in the water, swimming toward shore. After this declaration it took about... 1.5 seconds for everyone who had been swimming to be on the beach. The group of us watched the water looking for it. My Uncle Haven grabbed a big stick. When the snake hit the rocky area beside the beach, he was waiting. We watched, fascinated. He just clipped the snake and it took off. Toward him, then away dodging swings. The snake got to a spot under a kind of cleft. My uncle switched from stick to a baseball sized rock. The final throw and the fight was over, the critter crushed by the rock. With the danger cleared we got back into the cool water.