Glamping upstate at Hutton Brickyards for our anniversary

 We got up to Hutton Brick Yards late afternoon. The reception is in this impressive Victorian mansion with a big iron gate in the front guarding a pretty skinny driveway. The gate was open and we could see golf carts parked further up the drive. 

So Tom and I spent five minutes debating whether we should drive in through the gates or park in the parking lot on the other side of the street from the mansion. It seemed like a weirdly far walk to get up to reception from said parking lot... but we decided it would be less embarrassing to park too far away than to drive up what might be their front walk in our car.

We're both incredibly familiar with driving around on front walks because one balmy evening, Tom's mom drove her rental down a walking path in Disney World and got chased by security. And then my family of course has that old chestnut about the time my father, in his VW Bug, drove my mom's very proper grandparents right through a stone archway on a college campus. Then he drove them across the grassy quad, exiting over a sidewalk curb near the music building.

So Tom and I elected to park in the parking lot due to the repressed trauma and all.

Anyway, after check in, we had our luggage put in the back of a very fancy eight seater golf cart and we drove off through a maze of golf cart paths to our cabin. It was pretty far away and our bellboy/driver chatted us up the entire time talking about the property. He had driven a moving van in manhattan at an earlier job so he was able to take the corners with a lot of confidence.

Riverview cabins. 

Not all the cabins have the full glass front, be aware.
The A/C was amazeballs, it was like living in 
a little freezer.

Cabin had that "new cabin" smell.

The Hutton property is really lovely, don't get me wrong, but the place has its quirks. When I say "quirks" I'm kind of saying that the way southerners say "Bless your heart." It's like someone in marketing cooked up the idea for the place and didn't tell operations until the last minute. Not that I would know anything about that.

Last night, Tom and I were sitting out by a firepit enjoying a gorgeous evening by the river. No bugs, coolish air. Nothing better that reading my kindle in the twilight...listening to everybody around us complain their firepit wasn't lit. 

Considering that this is supposed to be a glamping experience, and considering the pivotal nature of campfires in said experience... Tom cackled at one point, "you had one job....!"

Tom starting the fire in our firepit
that the fire starter girl didn't quite
manage to get right.

The good news was that we'd apparently been pretty early on the scene, well before the rest of the crowd realized what an excellent idea a fire might be. I had called reception early on, and luckily was able to describe which of the many firepits we were at. Because the firepits aren't numbered or named or anything. Apparently I'm awesome at geolocation descriptions, because sure enough, 25-30 minutes later, here comes the fire girl.

Then she left again because there wasn't any wood, but dutifully returned with a load of damp wood about fifteen minutes after that.

She started it up with some flare and nifty tools, but Tom was skeptical from the get go. He said she didn't use enough kindling and it turns out he was right about that. 

We snapped into action.

We burned all the paper we had on us, including our fancy Hutton excursion guide, check-out instructions, the spa package brochure and a bunch of random bills and envelopes Tom had in his backpack. Tom managed to keep the fire going for a respectable period of time.

Meanwhile, a guy showed up with a long dangling piece of newspaper and asked us if he could light it.  He said they had been waiting too long for the firegirl and they were taking things into their own hands. 

We said yes but from the start it seemed like an ass bad idea. By the time he got half way back to his firepit, he had a conflagration going. Luckily he was too drunk to notice. Also he didn't appear to set any buildings, vehicles or trees on fire, so that was good.

Then someone else walked by with marshmallows and asked if we had marshmallow sticks. Apparently there were no marshmallow sticks on the premises and it's very hard to do s'mores without marshmallow sticks.

All in all it was pretty entertaining and the only time we spoke to any of our fellow glampers. But seriously, you have one job, Hutton Brick Yard.

If you're headed up there and happen to be reading this, here's a few other tips: 

• There's no moisturizer in the rooms. Lots of shampoo and conditioner, but no moisturizer. 
• There's no food and no coffee all day unless you get in your car and drive somewhere. I'd bring food and put it in the fridge. You can get a breakfast delivered that includes a muffin, an orange, yogurt with blueberries and granola and coffee... but the coffee is, frankly, terrible and the breakfast is not customizable, so not vegan. 
• The restaurant also was not vegan friendly, at least the woman on the phone was completely baffled when we asked her if they had any options.
• Oh but the most bizarre thing? No garbage cans. I mean, except for the tiny one behind the toilet in the bathroom. It's like trail hiking I guess, pack it in, pack it out. But just be aware if you make any garbage, it'll be with you for the duration.
• Be prepared to tip. Anything you need will be brought to you from some distance by someone who assuredly deserves a tip. 

All that being said, it was fun and maybe in a few months or years they'll get their wrinkles straightened out.