Beagle Nationals

Once a year, as the oaks begin their surrender and the nights turn crisp enough to justify a second flannel, a small and frankly unqualified group of friends assembles in the woods for what is — by unanimous and unverified declaration — the most prestigious autumn gathering in the greater tri-county area.

We call it Beagle Nationals. We call it this despite the observable fact that no member of our group has, at any point in our collective tenure, owned, fostered, walked, or been in direct custody of an actual beagle.

Some say the name is aspirational. Others say it was chosen at two in the morning by a man named Russ who had eaten four s'mores and made a decision. Both are correct.

We gather the weekend nearest Halloween at Delaware State Park. We erect tents of varying structural integrity. We award trophies. We keep records. We go home Sunday with our lives mostly intact.