Bearly camping in the Catskills!
The excitement for it all began in Spring 2020 when one particular traveler’s social media feed was loaded with photos of unique cabins in the woods. Picturesque landscapes, cozy fireplaces, s’mores, and more. Covid’s arrival only accelerated the longing to get out of NY boroughs and into other burrows out in the wilderness and neck of the woods. A short road trip would do it!
So, as soon as the stay-at-home orders started lifting, she narrowed the gazillion Chrome tabs into a few cabin experiences she had shortlisted ranging from an Airbnb in Lake George, to a Getaway cabin in West Catskills. Some offered breathtaking gorgeous views at sunrise, while some had the charm of DIY meal prepping or tech detox options where you had to put your phone away into a box. Some cabins were more real-life camping than glamping where you were not necessarily assured hot water or electricity — admittedly, not exactly her cup of hot water.
So, after some, not much, deliberation, she decided to book a cabin at EastHill in the Windham mountains of Catskills. Much unlike other more spontaneous getaways, this one was booked months in advance.
As the travelers approached Labor Day they began to gather all the weekend essentials including but not limited to, clothes, toiletries, bug spray, flip flops, sunscreen, a book, some wine, wine opener, hiking shoes, some cigars, cigar cutter, energy bars, chargers and so on. The excitement was getting real!
On Friday morning, as per road trip rituals, one went to get the car while the other made a quick stop to get some coffee and breakfast for the journey. While en route Catskills they hit upon a gorgeous seafood grille by the Hudson River. Chargrilled oysters and prosecco for lunch? What a great start to the long weekend. Blu Pointe grill deserved to be starred on Google maps.
Two hours later they arrived at EastHill and directly reached their Cabin — Cabin G. They didn’t care much that the passcode to enter the cabin was as simple as A–B–C–D. Best not to mess and change it in case they have one too many wines and lock themselves out for the night. Soon, they dropped their bags and headed to the main reception building to meet the lovely host couple, Zara and John whose hospitality they had heard so much about. The whole property, from the writer’s rooms to the cabins in the woods, was small and intimate. Zara was the direct point of contact via text for anything from getting breakfast baskets dropped by the cabin to requesting for the firepit to be lit and some s’mores to be delivered.
The locals always know best! And, if their recommendation was a sommelier’s secret wine garden the wine enthusiasts had to pay a visit. So off they drove a mile along the road and reached the quant Ze Windham Wine Bar. Warm and fuzzy fireplaces, a bottle of great Cyprus wine — it couldn’t get any better.
Friday evening ended with wine and some ‘za. Much to the traveler duo’s surprise, they became those morning people they so often heard about. It was lights out by 10:30 PM in Cabin G and the campers were ready to make the most of Saturday. Falling asleep while watching the stars from the glass-paneled cabin wall was an experience like none other. And, waking up to the sun rising but no alarm buzzing was like being in “Headspace” land!
As Eat Pray Love as it sounds, the early birds arrived at the EastHill lawns, perched on a yoga mat, in the company of other fellow Labor Day weekenders, practicing yoga asanas. They returned to find the breakfast basket awaiting them at Cabin G. The menu included homemade butter croissants, freshly squeezed OJ, yogurt, and granola with fresh strawberries and cinnamon and some black coffee, boiled eggs, and assorted fruits. This lifestyle brought alive the “athletic” in athleisure.
Before noon, they set out to Katterskill falls for a medium grade 4-mile hike. They were exhilarated to get the much-needed dose of Vit D and fresh air. Hopping from one activity to the next, they were back at the property in time to get ready for the Argentinian Char with some live country music in the great lawns. This menu included BBQ’d meats, roasted mixed veggies, corn on the cob, freshly baked bread paired with some local craft beers! The one thing that didn’t excite them was chargrilled pineapple — apologies for that John!
The second night, the Chateau Ste. Michelle was poured and the firepit, along with the Arturo Fuente cigars, was lit! There was a little music set up going and as you’d do under a starlit sky they began identifying constellations while making more s’mores. It was romantic, to say the least until it was interrupted by an SUV that pulled over to an adjacent cabin. To be polite, they turned down the music and said hello to their neighbor who was by himself moving bags into his Cabin H. Their very gregarious hello probably went unheard or was not welcomed, who knows.
A loud thud awakened them with a jolt. It was 4:30 AM!
The creaking was accompanied by scratching on the front walls of the cabin and the cabin door. Both of them tried their best not to react or shout out with fear. Creak. Brief pause. Scratch. Pause. Creak, creak. Scratch. This went on for a good 7–8 minutes while they barely gathered themselves towards the door. The whole cabin was shaky as it’s built on stilts so they all the more hesitated to inch towards the door, not wanting to alarm what’s outside. One of them, the optimist, believed that it’s property maintenance staff clearing the area before sunrise. In the meantime, the other went on a wild goose chase with vivid imagination straight out of a Kristin Hannah novel.
Were they caught in an attack where a serial killer had gone wild into the woods? Or is this John’s way of dealing with guests who waste food, and here they are paying the price for not eating that damn pineapple? Or, what if some other guests on the property just got drunk and were messing about?
One of them texted Zara to ask her what could be causing this disturbance, while the other snuck out of bed and grabbed a bottle of wine — just in case anything or anyone were to enter the cabin! There was nothing seen from the glass-paneled back walls of the cabin. No response from Zara. No more noises outside. Definitely, no more sleep. Every minute took a month to pass, until…
Fast forward to 6:30 AM, Zara responded to their SOS text with a “We’re in the wilderness so it could be wild animals.” Wild animals!!! Do you mean wild as a raccoon? Or wilder as in wild bears? These rookies hadn’t read Camping 101 if the probability of a bear attack came so much after serial killers, haunted houses, and cleaning staff. With no clue what to expect when they got out of the cabin, they managed to inch their way out. Nothing there!
Literally, “nothing” that was kept near the firepit or their cabin was as it was left the night before. The breakfast basket, although empty, had been rampaged and gnawed at. The paper wine cups were tattered and all over the place. The not-so-friendly neighbor's icebox was overthrown and its remnants were scattered. There was not a soul to be seen or a sound to be heard. It was like a new Instagram filter — beautiful red oak, chestnut, pine, and balsam fir trees, with shrubs dominated by huckleberry and lowbush blueberry, with an added “crime scene” layer that would have been apt for Halloween!
Surely, the EastHill cabins had a visitor. A black bear or two! Maybe several!
The state Department of Environmental Conservation estimates there are between 6,000 and 8,000 black bears statewide in the areas where they can be hunted. Of that 50–60 percent are in the Adirondacks, with 30–35 percent in the Catskills. Although apparently, they are generally shy and elusive.
Now, would you believe it if I told you that this is a personal anecdote?
