The camp is slightly to the left of the exact Middle of Nowhere. As I found, it was six miles from the nearest gas station and ten miles from the nearest diner. I was so pooped out I was just going to head back to camp and mush out, but I came across an incredible view of Mt. Greylock and had to paint it.

The first weird thing is that when I was unpacking the car I came across a journal from a painting trip I took in 2010. I don't recall putting it in the car and we didn't even own this car eleven years ago., but there it was. Weird...

The second thing was that when I got back to my tent site there was a perfectly clean child's sock laid neatly at the entrance to my tent. Someone would have had to step down five feet from the road and then a further ten feet to my tent in order to get there. Double weird...

The third weird thing is a group of teenage boys I saw wandering around the camp grounds over the next two days. They looked to be 16 or 17, and they were all carrying teddy bears. Triple weird...

That night, as I lay in my tent, I heard all-male chanting from a site further in the woods than mine. It sounded like a meeting of the Esoteric Order of Dagon. Too far from the sea for that; maybe it was just a plain ol' meeting of the Cthulhu cult.

Quadruple weird.

On Sunday I drove to the top of Mt. Greylock and did a painting. Took me about five hours and I really burned the snot out of myself in the process. I went back to camp and all of sudden, sirens, an ambulance, and about six emergency vehicle appeared and drove up the steep roads of the campsite. Turns out some guy (in his mid-30s, I learned) had collapsed and was "unresponsive" when the EMTs appeared. Weird thing #5.

I had wondered briefly about bears when I stopped at the camp but didn't see any signs of the sort you see so often in bear country, so I didn't figure it was an issue. As a result, I was not particularly careful with the tuna jerts from my dinner that night. I dumped it in the fire pit.

Sunday night I was sitting in my campsite reading my Kindle, when I saw a bear walking through the woods in front of me maybe 20 feet away. The bear stopped and looked at me. I stood up. The bear took a step towards me and I said, "Um, I don't THINK so." The bear took off. I put all my food and trash in the car and rolled up the windows, then walked down to the office to tell the owner, but he didn't seem too concerned. "Happens three or four times a years," he said. "Just speak loudly and they'll run away."

"I did," I said.

"Good. You should also put your food and trash in a closed car."

"I did that too."

"Good. Nothing to worry about."

I decided not to fill in Joanne on this latest event until the next day. When I got home, SHE didn't seem all that concerned either.

Monday morning I packed up my camping gear and drove back to Greylock for one last painting, then drove home. Last weirdness: Waze did not work in the Williamstown/Hancock/Lanesborough area. Like, at all. As in, constantly beeping and recalculating the route. "Diddleydoot. In 1 mile, turn left on Mountain Road. Diddleydoot. In .9 miles, turn left on Mountain Road. Diddleydoot. In .8 miles, turn left on Mountain Road. Diddleydoot..." I finally turned it off and relied on Google Maps, which may have taken me a less efficient route but at least seemed to know what it was doing.

Had a blast. Would do again.