Return to Gray Island, Pt. I

'Sup, gang.

Well, it's that time of year again. Time for Midland's premiere friend group to once again besiege the legendary Gray Island of Grayling's Jellystone campground.

What has quickly become the second-most anticipated event of my summer (behind Brocation, obviously), this camping trip sees about nine or ten of our tribal families descend on a concentrated area of the Jellystone campground for three days and four nights of swimming, bonfires, feasting, and shenanigans. This year, the DeBoers had to back out at the last minute, but other than that it was the same hands on deck as last year: the Johnsons, the Larsons, the Colliers, the Butterfields, the Griffins, the Sheahans, the Nadgaudas, and, of course, the Houghs. Even the Bos family - who despise camping with a passion - drove up for an entire day on Saturday.

We didn't golf this year - like we did a year ago - but we did return to Pere Cheney to check in on the witch's grave, as well as to poke around the ghost town a little more. The weather was flawless, without any rain to speak of, and hovering in the high 70s/low 80s from Thursday to Sunday. As we packed up at the end of the weekend, it was the group's overall consensus that this was, hands down, the best camping trip we've had thus far at Jellystone.

So, dear readers, I'll leave you know with the first of multiple installments chronicling this year's return to Jellystone and Gray Island.

Behold. . .

As we have the previous four or five years doing this, Kris and I drove separately to the campground. With four girls in her van, and most of the luggage and gear, it's a pretty tight squeeze (even with the topper on the van.)  Yours Truly always loads up the tents, tarps, and other such camping essentials that need to go up first (since I always beat her there by an hour or so and start setting up headquarters) as well as the dogs. As I was loading up the last-minute essentials into the vehicles Thursday morning, the dogs were clearly on to the fact that adventure was afoot. . .

Alayna took this pic as I was about to set off out of the driveway.  Totally looks like Samson has a lazy eye, here.

Once we hit US-10, Samson crawled into the trunk space of my SUV, which was piled high with tents, totes, and all the other aforementioned camping gear. I took a pic with the dogs once we pulled into Shelby's K-9 Kennel - our go-to dog sitter, located in Coleman and on the way up to Grayling - to share with the kids.

An hour or so later, I was the first to arrive to Jellystone, sometime around 12:30pm.

Check in wasn't until 3pm, and the past few years no one has really cared that much if we want to access the camp sites and start setting up early.  This year, however, the grounds are under new management, and there was a $35 early check-in fee. . . I definitely wasn't having any of that.

I may have been a bit curt with the young lady working the Ranger Station, but she had it coming. Pacing around the parking lot - and enjoying a margarita - I began texting with the rest of our Jellystone thread and giving them a heads up.

Ill omens abound - the giant Yogi statue that used to adorn this bench is no longer there.

Morgan and Erik showed up about an hour after I did, and by then I had just driven back over to Gray Island and began the process of putting up my tents.  Upon their arrival, they informed me that a new lady was working in the Ranger Station. She was fine waving the fee, so I ran over there and formally checked in.  This new management frickin' sucks.

Sophie and Ella pass the time with a card game, as the Colliers arrive (in the background) and begin their own set-up process.

Erik always bring along his fancy Blackstone grill, which comes in handy when preparing meals for groups as large and chaotic as ours.

Headquarters established, just waiting on Kris, the girls, and the rest of our gear (Kris had to wait around for Alayna's friend, Lexi, to be ready to go.)

The Butterfields - old friends of the Colliers who live downstate, similar to what the DeBoers are for we Houghs - arrive to Gray Island.

The Shantytown starts to take shape. These canopies always work out real well for communal cooking/dining/hang out space.

Jams are also essential.

After sweating over tents all morning and afternoon, this was a welcome beverage indeed.

With camp more or less established at this point, some of us walked over to the campground's swimming pool to check in on the kids. Lexi and Alayna were just getting out when we rolled in.

More of the crew off to the right, there.

Deanna, Kris and some handsome guy.

I'm sure it's filled with little kid pee, but this pool was a godsend this weekend.

Back at Gray Island, the adults relax in the kid-free quietness of post-set up.

Stefanie, Tom, Susan, Omkar, and Deanna.

Morgan, Courtney, and Erik.

The Colliers and Butterfields teamed up for the weekend's first dinner - tacos, nachos, and all other things Mexican.

The Three Amigas - Ella, Abby and Sophie.

The food line.

Larsons, stuffing their faces.

Alayna - in her self-described 'pool outfit' - and Lexi head back to the pool after dinner.

Wasn't uncommon for adults to go back for seconds and thirds - if anything, this group can eat.

While kids returned to the pool - old enough now where they don't require constant adult supervision - the adults more or less just sat around drinking and playing cards.  Here's the moms. . .

. . . aaaand here's some dads playing Euchre.

The moms switch to cornhole - another Gray Island staple.

We switched to microfiber towels a couple years ago, and they're an absolute must for camping.

Morgan's a happy guy.

Panoramic shot of Gray Island.

Nor surprisingly, it fell to me - once again - to get the evening's campfire up and running.

Folks begin to settle in around the fire after a day of sweaty set up. . .

A few of the moms stayed up until 2am, but for the most part most folks were exhausted and retired around 11pm/midnight.  A pretty chill evening. . .

. . . with the exception of a few late-night drive-by's (as seen here), courtesy of our familial teenagers.

Found this picture on Abby's phone, taken around 1am.  At least we Houghs are raising our kids right. . .

- Brian

A Return to Shantytown, Pt. I

I drove up separate and dropped the dogs off at Shelby's on the way.

Welcome back, America.

This weekend marks our annual weekend trip up to the Jellystone Campground in Grayling with our usual assortment of Midland families.  Definitely one of the highlights of the summer, for sure, and we were fortunate enough this year to have absolutely perfect weather for the entirety of our stay - no heat advisories, no rain, no flooding, no nothing.  

Couldn't have asked for better weather.

We had a few shake ups in our roster this year, though.  Kris' best friend, Kim, and her husband, Matt, wouldn't be coming up this weekend with their RV - I guess they had plans or something this weekend, I forget the particulars.  The Sheahans and Danielle's parents would be joining us this year, though, so we actually had more numbers in our Gray Island brigade than in previous years.  The usual suspects - the DeBoers, Johnsons, Larsons, Colliers, Griffins, Butterfields, Nadjaudas, Bardens, and, of course, the infamous Houghs - all returned for some much-needed shenanigans.

We always feel bad for those unfortunate souls who end up sharing the fabled Gray Island with us. . .

So yeah, I guess I'll cut this off and just jump right into things, leaving you now with the first installment of pics and video from our epic weekend at Yogi's old stompin' ground.

Behold. . .

We once again drove up separate this year, which is a necessity considering all the gear and bodies - three kids, two dogs, etc. - that we always end up hauling.  Kris had to work a half day today, so she wasn't going to be leaving Midland until probably closer to 3pm; I had no intentions of waiting around that long, and wanted to get the tents all set up as soon as possible.  Leaving Midland around 11am, I rolled in well before 1pm and had zero issues checking in at the main office - the folks that work up there are always super friendly - and right as I was wrapping up the Larsons and Johnsons pulled in next to me.

Like in 2020 and in 2021, all of the assembled families defaulted to the same campsites we've used in previous years (we're always Site 189.)

The Johnsons began setting up their tent right next to ours.  Aside from our two, I brought two additional tents: one for Alayna and her friend, Lexi, that would go to the left of ours, and one for Abby, Ella and Sophie that would go on the Johnsons' site (since you can only have two tents per site.)  This then would form our tent village's 'Northern Wall', shielding our communal setup from other folks' sites to the north.

A shitload of tent poles.  I hate setting up camp.  Not as much as tearing down camp, of course, but close.

The 'moon colony' tent Erik and I set up on his site for the Three Amigas. Straight outta some Tim Burton film, to be sure.

As families finished establishing their individual family tents, other folks started throwing up their communal canopies (to put over tables for cooking and dining areas, etc.)

The Gray Island, slowly but surely coming together.

In the late afternoon, Kris and the girls - Alayna, Lexi, and Abby - finally approached Jellystone Campgrounds.  At the spot where the road switches to gravel, Kris had to stop to allow this patriotic, bald eagle to finish snacking on this roadkill.

'MERICA

Some post-tent construction beers with the Dads.  All part of the process, folks.

Moms, sitting around clucking.

Setting up the dining canopy.

Lonnie hooks up his RV's waterline.  Griffins camp in style, unlike the rest of us peasants.

Left to Right: Tom, Ryan, Lonnie Big Balls, Omkar, and BP.

The Three Amigas - Sophie, Ella and Abby

Samwise and Deana (Omkar's wife.)

Dinnertime, at long last.  The setup process is exhausting, so folks were definitely ready to chow down by the time dinnertime rolled around.

Collier and Butterfield.

The Butterfields pumped out another kid since the last time we were all here, so we had an infant on hand this time around.  Which, being so far removed from this stage in our own lives, was kinda bizarre.

Abby works on Alivia's hair

Feasting

We brought a few snacks the kids this year.  Holy shit, this group will eat some junk food. . .

BP brought this up to share with the Dads.  Not too bad at all, we drank this neat throughout most of the evening.

Erik doesn't like the way cornhole is panning out.

Ryan, Matt and Tom

Tossing some bags.  Cornhole eats up quite a lot of time up here at Jellystone. . .

Morgan is arguably the best player up here, so it any tournament we have usually boils down to who stands against the Larsons in the championship (and loses.)

The DeBoers brought up this '80s trivia game this weekend, and we killed some time while cornhole was going on showcasing our mastery of all things nostalgic.

BP and I are pretty evenly-matched when it comes to this.

As the evening went on, and the temperature dropped, we realized a few of us had all donned blue jean jackets, so the wives demanded a picture of our denim game.  Thug life.

Ryan snatched up my SLR - something he does frequently after having a few beers (he is a professional wedding photographer, after all) - and snapped a few weird pics of the guys sitting around the campsite.  Here's Tom. . .

. . . and Yours Truly. . .

Omkar. . .

. . . and Ryan himself.

As dusk was coming on, a group of moms from some other contingency descended on our campsite and struck up a conversation with some of our wives.  Talkin' about mom stuff, probably - like hard seltzers, lazy husbands, and Live, Laugh, Love.  Stuff like that.

Personally I think they just got one good luck at the handsome assortment of dads in Gray Island and couldn't resist themselves.  That honestly makes the most sense.

The beginning of the first fire of the weekend. . .

We got yelled at for having two firepits raging right next to each other, so we had to stop this after the first night.  Whatever, Jellystone. . .

No clue what these kids are up to, but it can't be anything good. . .

Headquarters established, morale high - Gray Island has once again fallen to the barbarian hordes from Midland.  Stay tuned for more campground adventures in the coming installments. . .

- Brian