WOODSMOKE AT TWILIGHT

Published March 4, 2018 by rochellewisoff

There is a road some fifty-three miles NNE of New York City with a strange reputation. This week, Pegman has stranded you there.Volumes have been written about Clinton Road in West Milford, NJ, but you only need to write 150 words. The only limit is your imagination.Feel free to capture your own streetview. If you’re not up to a weird tale, feel free to wander anywhere within the state of New Jersey for your story.Once your 150 words are polished, you can share with other contributors using the Linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting this challenge that gives me 50 more words to play with. 😉

While the photo below is taken from the Pegman Buffet, I must confess, despite the directives, I didn’t stay in New Jersey. I went to Rickey Road in Raytown, Missouri, where, as with Clinton Road, the stories abound. 

Genre: Fictionalized Memoir

Word Count: 150

WOODSMOKE AT TWILIGHT

            I looked forward to my troop’s wilderness excursions. Had it not been for scouting, I might never have seen the great outdoors beyond my backyard. My parents, while not religiously observant, adhered to the eleventh commandment—“Jews don’t camp.”

            Overnights were the best. Following an afternoon of dodging poison ivy and climbing hills, we’d gather around the campfire. Our mouths and fingers gooey from roasted marshmallows, we topped off the day with ghost stories about the infamous and spooky Rickey Road.

            “My uncle found a man’s head in the grass,” said Lucy in a loud whisper.

            “Ooooooo,” we’d giggle. “Gross!”

            Margo’s cheeks glowed in the blaze. “It opened its eyes and screamed, ‘I want my golden arm!’”

            Our childish imaginations kicked into overdrive. Each storyteller sought to outdo the last.

            Back home in my own bed, I wouldn’t sleep for a month without a nightlight.  

            I miss those good times.

 

*********

 

Troop 499-Can you find me?

 

48 comments on “WOODSMOKE AT TWILIGHT

    • Dear Frances,

      How sweet to see you here. I seem to remember your mom and mine connecting on a mother daughter hike. 😉 Hm. I wonder if the Bennetts might be part of the lost tribe.
      Your presence here validates my story. Thank you.

      Shalom,

      Rochelle

      Like

  • This story will probably bring memories for all of us. We had tons of scary stories growing up. Nice story. P.S., you have been on Rickey Road. We used to drive up it of Noland Road. Twisty, narrow woods lined road that invoked many stories..

    Liked by 1 person

  • That’s a lovely portrayal of a camp (although I’ve never understood the delights of toasted marshmallows!). Childhood can be such a wonderful time. Those camps sound like an ideal place to nurture imagination and story-telling. You conjure up the atmosphere wonderfully!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Penny,

      I loved those marshmallows blackened on the outside and then smooshed between two graham crackers and chocolate bar. I’m pleased that the atmosphere came through for you. My mission has been accomplished. 😉 Thank you.

      Shalom,

      Rochelle

      Liked by 2 people

  • Dear Rochelle,

    What a great story. Man, that brought me way back… Camp Wilvakin – in the Eastern Townships of Quebec… Grade 5. Bloodsuckers. Ghost stories. At least a hundred years ago!

    Lotsa love,

    Dale

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Josh,

      I suspect that those ghost stories circulate and take on different names and locations, but are pretty much the same all over. 😉 Those campouts are amongst my fondest memories. They lit up my childhood. Thank you for the “charming” comment. 😉

      Shalom,

      Rochelle

      Like

  • I remember those wilderness excursions and campfires as well. The girls, the campfire, and the campfire stew:

    Brown hamburger in medium pot, drain off fat.
    Add 2 cans tomato soup, 2 cans vegetable soup, and 2 soup cans full of water.
    Stir well and heat through.

    I spent time several years ago tracking this recipe down! I remember how delicious this tasted in the chill of the evening!

    Thanks for the memories, Rochelle! So glad we shared these memories together all those years ago!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Margo,

      Thanks for the recipe. I remember making campfire dinners, too. Hamburger, potatoes and carrots wrapped in foil and put in the first. I also remember the little stoves we made out of #10 cans.
      So many good times we had. I, too, am glad we shared those memories together and can share them together again. I love this photo and am so grateful to you for sending it to me.
      So sweet that you came around to comment. Adds fuel to my campfire. 😉

      Shalom,

      Rochelle

      Like

  • Ah, youth the time for thrills and the time for joy all shared ’round a bonfire. Good job with the writing exercise! If you have a look at my posts – if I am lucky enough to deserve a look – please do not hesitate to leave a feedback, negative or positive. I want to improve, desperately, as a writer.

    Liked by 1 person

  • I’m thinking second from the left in the middle row?
    There are so many things I miss from the days of innocence. Like innocence, for a start 🙂 I never did an overnight camp-out, that would have been fun. Nice one!

    Liked by 1 person

  • I love this. That sweet sense of excitement and adventure you only get when you’re small and away from home, your gooey fingers, the whispered, gross-out stories – the fact you couldn’t sleep without a night light for a month! Perfect level of detail, lovely story – would love to read more of this, even if it was embroidered with fiction, you strike such a good tone. And I honestly guessed that was you, second row second from left – you haven’t changed a bit! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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