September 9, 1995

Dear Mom,

The apple pie was delicious. Couldn’t have been better. You’ve still got the magic touch with crust. We shared one slice for dinner when we got home– For lunch yesterday, we split the other piece with cheddar cheese melted on it. No gourmet had a better dessert.

Yesterday, Gerry spent some time herding cows. We’ve four black ladies in the campground and they are making it a cow-pile mess. It was quite a sight seeing Gerry, carrying one of his fancy walking sticks, strolling along with four cows trotting along in front of him. He herded them into the woods and across the creek, hoping they’d find their way home. Maybe they did, but they didn’t like it so they came back, and he herded them again. They came back and spent the night with us; they’re here this morning. Gerry says his herding days are over. We keep reporting them to the rangers, the rangers call the owners, but the owners don’t come and get them.

On the way home, we saw a fawn on our road–still wearing her baby polka dots. She leaped away and into the woods, looking sweet and graceful. This morning Gerry saw six elk. Two adults and the rest young. We’ve seen an armadillo strolling along, nosing the ground, thinking about something else, not seeing us at all even though we were quite close. Very distracted. Maybe he was humming or practicing his multiplication tables or hoping something juicy–a worm, or bug–would arrive in time for his lunch.

We walked to the highway, yesterday, and picked up trash along the way. Three bags full. Picking up other people’s trash is dirty, frustrating work. Some folks don’t care that they make this beautiful area ugly for the next campers. We pick up trash and clean in the campground as well. (We do not pick up cow piles.) We don’t have to do this job. We just do it because it’s a good project, we want this place to look its best, and it helps earn our keep down here–the free electricity, sewer, and water.

A man and his eight-year-old son arrived after dark last night. He told Gerry he wanted a campground that was safe and secure and that he was sure glad to see our trailer all lighted up after driving down that long, curvy, bumpy road. We were amused but I guess if you aren’t used to such roads, it might seem scary in the dark. We’ve been told by the rangers that our being here makes a big difference. That trouble makers stay away from areas where there are good hosts. Other campers have told us that they appreciate our patrolling the area several times every night. They know we have a two-way radio and a phone in the trailer. This feels like a safe campground. We love being here by ourselves. It’s like having a huge front yard, with woods all around, and our own chunk of the river just past a few trees and down the bank. Right now, we have, maybe, eleven campers here. Mostly families with children. On the weekend, a bunch of the local folks come down and have a huge volley ball game–right across from our trailer. Lots of laughing and cheering; the sounds of fun. It only lasts until dark.

We enjoyed lunch, Thursday. Thanks again for the pie.

Love, Rosalie and Gerry