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The last time I camped at Inks Lake was high school. My art teacher and a few classmates packed up firewood and fishing reels for the Thanksgiving getaway. It was three days and three nights of rain soaked, gray-sky’d misery. The weather dipped below 30, my tent leaked, and my sleeping bag at the time was rated for summer camping. At one point, I deliriously ate raw chicken to replenish the insane amount of calories my body was burning just to keep itself alive. When we finally drove out on the last day, the sun came out.

This trip is exactly the opposite of that. Mainly, the difference is this trip is perfect.

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Slide show