I woke up at 9:30 because that’s when the heat of the solar furnace/tent became uncomfortable and breakfast was a hearty affair of egg/bacon/egg/bacon/egg/bacon. I was still groggy, so I passed the keys to Mike and the four of us drove to Fort Ticonderoga. Pat called shotgun and said â€œthere was a time when I would have felt bad taking the passenger seat from youâ€. I get the queerest compliments.
Fort Ticonderoga was hot and sunblasted and my camera was producing an â€œErr 30â€ which Google tells me is a shortcode meaning â€œprepare to give Canon your credit cardâ€. Here is where I would normally show you all the pictures of the fun we had but I cannot for two reasons: 1) my camera was broken 2) we had none.
The second part is a slight overstatement but most of the traditional parts of the fort were quite dull. The encampment did have a sutler played by a very learned fellow from who was generous with his time and answered every question we could conceive of. Stepping away from the table, Mike spoke for all of us when he said â€œNow it was worth itâ€.
We returned to camp along a different route that was more Interstate and less state route and collapsed into individual nap-states in our tents. After waking, we tried to go swimming, then tried to go boating, then went swimming, then went sitting. The sitting proved the most popular and a very steamy dinner was made. Mike turned in early and the important part of the weekend to me happened: we talked. Man-time!
Note: There was a previous version of this post where every major action except for Mike driving was followed by â€œSo Mike went to sleepâ€. Mike got a lot of bad sleep during the course of the weekend. May his sleep debt be paid before we next camp.