Two hours later, tired from rowing, they beached their boats back at their camp and gathered wood for a fire, grilling hot dogs and hamburgers. Later, when the moon had risen, one of them suggested going out on the water again. The idea was greeted by a mad scramble to the boats. In less than 10 minutes, they sat in the center of May Pond under a three-quarter moon, listening to the mournful wail of loons.
Today the rowboats are gone, replaced by canoes and kayaks, but the campsites remain as undeveloped and rough as they were all those years ago. Pillsbury State Park still offers a portal back to a simpler, more rustic time, when the day's defining events were sunrise, sunset, and moonrise. The state classifies the park as primitive, which means it has only pit toilets (outhouses), spigots for water, and no showers or electricity. (Campers can show their permits at nearby Sunapee State Park for free day use, which includes showering and swimming.) This may account for the fact that, despite its accessible location in western New Hampshire, the park offers a sense of seclusion rare in a front country campground in midsummer, when even the rugged backcountry of the White Mountains teems with escaped city folk. In short, car camping in the East doesn't get much better than this.
The hiking trails -- six, including a stretch of the 51-mile Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway -- are where many visitors find the solitude they're looking for, but it is water that sets this place apart. There are about a dozen ponds and wetlands pocking the park's 5,500 acres of forest, though most of the 41 campsites are clustered around May and Butterfield ponds. Here, especially at dawn and dusk, the slow glide through still water opens a curtain on an experience too many have never known or have forgotten.
At nightfall the loons take center stage. Campers drop into sleep listening to their plaintive calls and awaken at first light to the raucous scoldings of crows. The sun backlights reeds glistening in the spectral mist.
