I had to cancel out on a three-day trip to the Jersey shore because it was planned for the week before I leave on a two-week cabin camping trip to the Allegheny Mountains. I just have too much to do.

When you go camping, even in a cabin, you still have to bring everything AND the kitchen sink. (I have to bring something to simulate a kitchen sink – cabin has no plumbing.) I spend a day reviewing the clothing, gear and food lists. This isn’t as hard as it used to be, as I’ve neatly printed all the things I KNOW we need every year in a vacation diary. The menus may change, but the staples and gear don’t.

Then I take stock of what we’re allowed to eat this year, plan the menu, list what food to pack and what I still have to get. I’ve cut down on the weight and packing this year by making my camp chili (this year it’s venison and pork, last year’s was elk) in advance and freezing it. (There’s going to be a Park Guard waiting on our porch for his chili, I just know it.) The Tupperware cereal container filled with frozen chili will serve as a giant ice cube in the cooler, replacing a whole bag of plum tomatoes, ground meat, onions, peppers and a giant can of kidney beans. Now I have room for my peeler/corer for when I make my apple crisp from scratch. Last year’s steak knife endeavor left scars and took forever. Hook that baby to the table and the apple is peeled and cored in ten seconds!

After the tenth time I ask hubby to bring up the camping bins, I pack the non-perishables and stuff I won’t need this week. (One year I packed the pots too early — good excuse to order out!) The key here is to conserve space and control the weight. I put everything I can in lightweight plastic containers or plastic bags. Instead of taking that big box of oatmeal, I fill several plastic zipper bags with one cup of oats, one cup of dry milk and two tablespoons of brown sugar. I just dump one into the pot, add two cups of water, cook according to directions (which I write in my diary), and voila, two servings of oatmeal. (I know there’s instant stuff – gar-bahge, as we call it.) I also pre-measure the topping for my apple crisp (oats, brown sugar and flour) into a zip bag.

I pre-grind my coffee beans (this takes a while because you have to stop every now and then to let the grinder cool off, as I learned when I burnt one out last year), and put it in one of those tall, narrow Tupperware containers. It holds just as much as a 48 oz can, and takes up way less room. I avoid round containers, they waste space. I save those little plastic ketchup, mustard and mayo bottles you pay a fortune for at the convenience stores, and refill them every year. Same thing with the dish soap. I keep those little spice bottles and fill them with whatever seasonings we need. I put sugar and flour in Tupperware, and grape jam in a 30-year-old cartoon character glass jelly jar that has sentimental value to us.(And this, dear hubby, is the answer to your eternal question, “Why are we saving this crap?”) My husband and I aren’t getting any younger, and the lighter the load the better. Plus, it’s easier on the truck.

After the tenth time I ask hubby to bring the heavy stuff up from the cellar, I do the gear. We have an old kitchen trash can ( which sits perfectly inside the dish tub), in which we store the bow saw, hatchet and wedge; charcoal and lighter fluid; trash bags, Tide, Bleach, Yard Guard and mosquito candles (did I mention we’re really sissy campers?). Checklist — clothesline/pins, cleaning supplies, tarp, bucket, rags, fishing gear and camp chairs, camera, binoculars, novel. Oh, yeah, the bikes. ( We squabbled over taking them this year. He said we don’t use them enough. I said at least they’ll take us down to the river, because I’m NOT walking there.)

Then there’s washcloths, dishtowels, tablecloths and DON’T FORGET THE PILLOWS!! I pack pillows, towels, blankets and sleeping bags in collapsible mesh hampers and, once we’re there, use them for a hamper and a kitchen trash receptacle (lined with a bag) because the ones in the cabin are never big enough. Then there’s the toiletries. Same principle – condense and lightweight. ‘Course, now we need an entire bag just for our freakin’ medications! But, on the bright side, since my cataract surgery last year, I no longer need to pack glasses and contacts and all the folderol that went with them.

After the tenth time I ask hubby to get the suitcases out, I do the clothes. I always leave the stuff we need for camping on top when I store the winter clothes. Hubby can pack in half an hour – 14 each underwear, t-shirts, socks; 6 short sleeved pullovers; 6 flannel shirts; 2 sweatsuits to sleep in; 5 pair of jeans and a couple nice shirts to go out in. Bam. He’s done. I can’t even tell what year it is when I look at old vacation pictures unless I check what’s written on the photo album — he’s had the same clothes forever! I’m a little more complicated. You women understand. I do have a few things, like my PJs, flannel shirts, sweat suits and a couple sweaters that are the same every year, but I pack to mix and match and every year’s different. We take winter jackets — autumn nights can get really nippy up there. I always take my pink fringe leather, too, just to make a statement.

We need sneakers, hiking boots, shower shoes. I usually end up living in my Birkies, though, I just wear socks to keep my feet warm. Good thing, because today I banged my right big toe and cracked my nail right in half. No hiking boots for me this year! Finally, since we’ll be away over our 28th anniversary, I can’t forget that card for hubby.

When that’s all done, if my arches haven’t fallen, I’ll bake applesauce bread (one for us, one for the two ladies down the road, and one for the Park Guards) and freeze them. I’m tossing around the idea of marshmallow brownies this year. You gotta buy those big bags of marshmallows now (whatever happened to those cute little boxes) and there’s always way too many just for s’mores. (Calories don’t count above I-80.)

Okay, now that you’re looking for my picture in the dictionary next to the word “anal,” or perhaps “insane,” you have to realize that this is all part of the fun. Yeah, we could just go food shopping when we get up there, but we’d waste a day, spend twice as much money, and have a whole lotta crap to tote home. Besides. What WOULD I do with myself the two weeks before we go? (Uh, maybe go down the shore?)

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