Guest Post: Memories from Ricker Pond State Park
The view from Owl's Head Overlook |
This guest blog is by Matt Parsons, longtime photography intern, writer and avid parks explorer. Check out more of his adventures at his blog The Adventurers.
I was 5 or 6 years old when our family bought our first camper. My first State Park memory is from Ricker Pond in Groton, Vermont. It was a spontaneous trip without reservations. As I recall, we could have site 8, provided that we could get the camper into the rather awkward place. Site #8 is a prime site by the pond and pavilion. My dad cork screwed our 23’ camper on to the site by going around the small camping loop in the opposite direction, thus setting himself up for a somewhat straight, but perfect landing. My dad was a hero!
Two kids and a dog in a paddleboat
To me, the whole world was in our backyard to explore. Behind us was a marsh that I could catch salamanders by day and fall asleep to frogs by night. The beach was just steps away and I played there until I was water logged. I spent hours playing on the famous rock that is planted on it’s sandy beach.
My folks loved it so much, that for a couple of years, they arranged for our neighborhood friends to join us. We all camped together in the same loop. My mom would cook breakfast for the whole ‘neighborhood’ in the fireplace at the pavilion.
At night, our neighborhood friends would regroup at the
pavilion for a game of cards by the fire. Us kids would swim, ride bikes and
run around. The pavilion seemed to glow from the fun. Echoes of laughter
rippled through the park. At least until 10 pm.
Reflections on Ricker Pond |
My life took many unexpected turns as an adult. Camping was a thing of the distant past.
Fond memories can not be easily erased however. A longing to return to better times kept growing in my heart. I searched to find vague memories and bring them to the forefront of my mind
One lonely day, I set out to find this oasis of fond
memories. It was late fall/early winter and the park was closed. I didn’t
dare cross the closed gate. I did explore the south end of the pond, a place I
had no recollection of. Ideas and dreams flooded in like a quick spring thaw. I
left that day with a new resolve.
That winter I made reservations for site #8. I invited my gritty, 77 year old mom, who is one of the toughest Vermonters I have ever known. Granny jumped at the invitation and was ready to go the next day. We relived old memories and made new ones. Mom stayed by the fire, which never stopped. She was content to read her book and cook up meals while I hopped on my bike and discovered the vast Groton State Forest, via the Cross Trail. I hiked many trails too. There is so much about the area I did not know as a kid. My world from the backyard of our camper at site #8 was plenty big enough for me at the time.
The Ricker Shelter covered in snow |
My ride that day was to Owl’s Head Mountain, where I discovered a pavilion, that would have it’s own story to tell later in my life. On a short hike, the view of Kettle Pond opened my eyes like a new world explorer. By the time we left, my dream factory was working overtime
Years later I met the women of my dreams. She too, had fond memories of Ricker Pond and site 8. (I think that is why I married her.) Since getting married, we have returned there several times to make our own special memories. At first, it was just she and I, and later my son.
Continuing the tradition |
Today we have a blended family. Our children are all grown up, but we still manage to visit Ricker Pond and invite who ever is able to come. Our grandkids enjoy the park much like their parents and grandparents before them did. Watching the awe struck wonder in our son in law’s eyes as he experienced Ricker Pond for his first time reminded me of myself not so long ago.
The kids and grandkids ask to go camping there often. I am proud of the camping legacy that my parents established in me some 50 years ago. My longing has been fulfilled.
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