A Campground Community Garden

Every year at Lock 30 Woodlands we introduce something new to our returning campers, something slightly out of the ordinary they might not expect to see at most highly-rated campgrounds. One year it was the swimming pool’s big “Block O” displaying our passion for the Buckeyes in an Ohio State’s National Championship year.

More recently we decided to celebrate the Western Reserve Heritage of our corner of the state by giving a facelift to our barn red clubhouse. Maintenance head and carpenter extraordinaire, Jim Simpson, designed and installed hand-crafted shutters, similar to what one might have seen on the cozy homes of that historic time. Later this summer we’ll do a phase two to that Historic Sandy & Beaver Canal Lock 30 Woodlands’ facelift and erect twin cupolas on the rooftop.

This year our signature surprise is a “redo”of something that has fallen into and out of favor: a community garden where campers can pick a handful of parsley or sage, a ripe tomato for a sandwich or even a sprig of dill for a freshly -caught fish.

Does a community garden ever fall “out of favor”? Not really. But the effort ten years ago met with limited success. We were among the earliest of campgrounds to introduce composting to campers. It was a failed education campaign. Too many half-eaten hot dogs and not enough apple peels made their way to our compost pile. Just about the time we thought we had it nailed, the raccoons held a summit conference and declared our compost pile a top-rated, snack bar, convenient, no less to the equivalent of a raccoon’s full service mall. (Next door to our 68 acres of pine woods is farmer Bowen’s prize-winning corn field.) Seems to me I heard one raccoon describe it as “one stop shopping on Beaver Creek.”

So we abandoned the composting effort and focused instead on adding to our herb pick-as-you-need garden, close to our swimming pool and clubhouse. An eager lifeguard once stripped the sage right to the nubs, then later returned to “dig that weed out”. What can I say?

Then there was the camper who added a full cup and a half of fresh oregano to her spaghetti sauce and well, it was more like a medicinal tonic than a hearty Saturday night supper.

But last Thanksgiving—or at least the weeks leading up to it—took the prize when it comes to community garden flubs.

We had a camper’s fall potluck featuring family favorites from backyard gardens. Campers are great cooks, resourceful and imaginative. An apple cobbler tied with a pumpkin dessert to win top nods among desserts. There was a particularly flavorful chili, robust, but not overly hot with peppers. Lock 30’s staff contribution was a stuffed turkey and the trimmings. That’s where things got complicated.

The days leading up to the potluck were full of surprises, including my being bumped from several flights to Pittsburgh. So Tracy bought the turkey and camping guest, Alice, volunteered to pop it in the oven. Problem was she’d never roasted a turkey, so Karen gave instructions from the tarmac on slicing and dicing onions and celery for the stuffing. Adding sage from the herb garden was a must. Turkey without sage dressing is well, a day without sunshine, I insisted.

Minutes before we carved our “communal “turkey, I discovered a branch of rhododendron, plucked from the garden, resting on the cutting board, where one might ordinarily find the sage garnish.

Despite objections from happy campers, the rhododendron-laced dressing made its way directly from the serving bowl to the garbage disposal. Rhododendron is not for consumption. Eat enough of it and you‘ll be spending a day in our award-winning bathrooms!

So, now we’re tackling a community garden re-design. No ornamentals among the herbs and veggies, we’ve decided. I’m consulting the Farmer’s Almanac for “best planting “days and Tracy has started the seedlings. Jim is rounding up plenty of organic fertilizer and leaf compost. Our workampers, due to arrive May 1, are getting prompted about our mid-month garden landscape project.

We’re excited about this communal effort. Camping is all about community and when you can share a harvest—knowing that you helped create it, it’s that much better.