81 N, PA destination Beacon, NY. We pulled into Mathew's Arm campground around 9 pm last night shortly after sunset. Located in the Shenandoah National Park, we had to break for a young black bear on our way up the winding, ascending Skyline Drive.
Up until now, we have been staying at state park campgrounds. This was the first National Park and the differences were stark. We were called twice to confirm our reservation; once at 5 pm and again at 7. When we arrived, we were greeted by an unexpected $20 entrance fee (on top of the camping fee) followed by a personal tutorial of the rules and consequences by a highly proud and decorated, top of her class Park Ranger. Just short of a quiz, I had to initial a card indicating that I read and understood the camping protocols. This Edward Scissorhands campground was neat, tidy and overflowing with children and dogs. The upkeep of the grounds and the clockwork staff of air-powered rangers that floated by ever 20 minutes to thwart shenanigans was in contrast with the single toilet facility that could barely handle 10 campsites let alone 100. The first dry, cool temperatures on this trip thus far promised a good night's sleep. But alas, the loud chairman of the board across from us who needed to make sure everyone else was up at 6 am crushed any opportunity for a full rest. After some experimental data collection, it seems he could go no longer than 6 seconds without hearing his own, entitled, tree-echoing, inane voice. Coffee, breakfast, roll it up and pack it in. We celebrated our last night camping with a hike around the 1.7 mile Trace's Trail to spy another bear grazing not far from the campground hoping one of the children might leave a half-eaten bag of munchies unattended only for Mom & Dad to be fined $80 and have their food impounded. I would have passed a quiz.
Up until now, we have been staying at state park campgrounds. This was the first National Park and the differences were stark. We were called twice to confirm our reservation; once at 5 pm and again at 7. When we arrived, we were greeted by an unexpected $20 entrance fee (on top of the camping fee) followed by a personal tutorial of the rules and consequences by a highly proud and decorated, top of her class Park Ranger. Just short of a quiz, I had to initial a card indicating that I read and understood the camping protocols. This Edward Scissorhands campground was neat, tidy and overflowing with children and dogs. The upkeep of the grounds and the clockwork staff of air-powered rangers that floated by ever 20 minutes to thwart shenanigans was in contrast with the single toilet facility that could barely handle 10 campsites let alone 100. The first dry, cool temperatures on this trip thus far promised a good night's sleep. But alas, the loud chairman of the board across from us who needed to make sure everyone else was up at 6 am crushed any opportunity for a full rest. After some experimental data collection, it seems he could go no longer than 6 seconds without hearing his own, entitled, tree-echoing, inane voice. Coffee, breakfast, roll it up and pack it in. We celebrated our last night camping with a hike around the 1.7 mile Trace's Trail to spy another bear grazing not far from the campground hoping one of the children might leave a half-eaten bag of munchies unattended only for Mom & Dad to be fined $80 and have their food impounded. I would have passed a quiz.
