Summer always makes me think about the same few places.
Growing up, we would spend a week every summer at Hither Hills in Montauk, camping right by the beach. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it didn’t need to be. Most days were some version of sand, water, and figuring out what we were doing next without too much of a plan.
The setup was always the same. There was the boys’ tent, the girls’ tent, and then the tent where we ate breakfast every morning. For a long time, we used what I think was a military tent. It felt indestructible until the year there was a storm and it tore right through it. We still took a picture afterward, all of us standing there like nothing happened, with one of us positioned directly in front of the rip like that was going to fix it. Eventually we upgraded to a newer tent, but it never felt quite as dramatic as that one.
In the girls’ tent, we had two people on cots and two people on the floor, and at night my mom would play the Harry Potter books on cassette for us to fall asleep to. That part might be one of the clearest memories I have from those trips. Lying there, half listening, half asleep, with the same voices and the same story every night, and waking up to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. It felt like my circadian rhythm reset every time, even if I wasn’t always looking forward to the trip.
Even getting there felt like part of the experience. I always thought the drive over was an all-day ordeal, and in my mind it probably still is. We would stop at the same McDonald’s every year, and that alone felt like an event. In reality, it probably didn’t take nearly as long as I remember, but as one of four kids in a family of six, and someone who has never really had a great sense of time, it felt like a whole journey.
There were a few things that always felt like part of the week. Going to Gossman’s, checking the board to see what movie was playing at the general store that night, and seeing if square dancing was happening. Some things we planned around, and some things we just stumbled into.
We spent a lot of time at the community center too. Ping pong was a whole thing, and I’m pretty sure everyone took it more seriously than they meant to. And every year there was the sand castle contest, which somehow felt very important at the time, even though I don’t think any of us knew what we were doing.
Later on, things started to shift a little. Somewhere around late middle school, we added a trip to Disney for a week, and Universal for a day. It was a completely different kind of trip, but it still had that same feeling of looking forward to it all year and then not wanting it to end once you were there.
And honestly, part of it was the travel itself. Taking the Magical Express from MCO to the hotel, sitting there watching the videos play, and somehow knowing exactly what was coming next. Gary showing up on the screen felt like part of the routine at that point, like you hadn’t really arrived until you saw him.
I don’t think we realized at the time how consistent all of it was. The same places, the same stops, the same routines, just repeated year after year until they became something you didn’t question.
Now it’s just something I catch myself thinking about.
Not in a big, nostalgic way, just in small flashes. The tents, the drive, the beach, the bus ride, all of it still sitting there exactly as it was.
– Blaze 🍞✨
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