“To many a city man there comes a time when the great town wearies him. He hates its sights and smells and clangor. Every duty is a task and every caller is a bore. There come visions of green fields and far-rolling hills, of tall forests and cool, swift-flowing streams…. To be free, unbeholden, irresponsible for the nonce! Free to go or come at one’s own sweet will, to tarry where he lists, to do this, or do that, or do nothing, as the humor veers; and for the hours,
“It shall be what o’clock I say it is!”
- Horace Kephart, Camping and Woodcraft, 1916
Now, I’m very much a city boy that has only spent little time camping, but I sure do know what ‘ol Horace is eluding to when that “call of the wild” comes beckoning. And as the weather gets warmer, that call gets louder. While I may not go on a full-on wilderness excursion, some beers in my backyard will do just fine!