July 4th calls for beaches, bonfires, fireworks, grilling, burgers, hot dogs, and of course the consumption of fine American alcohol. So to obtain our perfect Fourth of July, and make our founding fathers proud, we headed to the state where freedom was founded - Massachusetts.
The locals know Cape Cod as “The Cape”. They are prideful and take ownership of the nickname. If you were to ask a local which cape they are referring to they may something like, “The Cape, Cape Cod, what other cape is there?”
So at The Cape we found ourselves pitching tents at the North of Highland campground. It was more populated than most places True and I normally frequent. We are usually somewhere a little more secluded, and tend to run from populated areas. I personally don't think it is really camping if you can see staff members driving around on golf carts. Yet with a cooler full of beer and delicious food, surrounded by friends, and a short walk from the beach, it didn't matter to me whether we were lost in woods or at site #546.
We spent our weekend rising with the sun.
We spent our weekend rising with the sun. We fried up the bacon until it was crispy in a hot cast iron pan, and scrambled the eggs quickly behind, to make use of the left over bacon fat. With our stomaches full, we headed to the beach, wading in the ice cold water. The sun rays warmed us as we threw the frisbee and soon our limbs acclimated to the freezing water.
At night we lit the grill again, and spun around some skewers over the coals. Our bellies quickly filled with mouth watering steak and fresh vegetables and soon after, we hiked back down to the beach to admire the sun set. We dug ourselves a pit in the sand and stacked up some firewood. The flames warmed us while the cool ocean breeze made its way to shore. We drank and talked as the sky danced with the most mesmerizing shades of orange and blue. We watched until the dance faded and the sky became black and painted with bright stars.
It may not have been the bare bones, rough-around-the-edges adventure True and I were used to, but it was most certainly the one we needed.
We sat there and watched the orange light of the burning fire. It crackled and snapped. Instantly the entire beach was illuminated with a bang. A group down the shore was giving the beach its own private show, and we had front row seats. They exploded like thunder and our lungs erupted with laughter and screams of encouragement. The fire died and our eyes fell heavy. Our glasses became empty. We retraced our steps back to our tents and I couldn’t help but think that maybe for the locals this is a way of life; that summers should be spent on the beach laughing with friends until your ribs were sore. It may not have been the bare bones, rough-around-the-edges adventure True and I were used to, but it was most certainly the one we needed.