FORT de CHARTRES - The stars are brilliant and silvery and feel close - for the first time in many years. Man-made artificial lighting dims God's creation in all too many places and spaces. But not here.

This is the Fort De Chartres Historic Site in rolling countryside between St. Louis and Carbondale. Eighteenth-century-style tents dotted the grounds earlier in June for the 38th Annual Rendezvous, a re-creation of the traditional French fur trappers holiday.

Campers in clothing ranging from the 1720s to the 1820s carry glowing candle lanterns after dark - resembling slow-motion, over-sized fireflies at a distance.

With one water faucet to be shared, people visit while waiting in line. No one thinks anything about dumping water on their head and clothes to cool down.

Bathing means a cloth dipped in a couple of inches of cool water from a metal pan in the privacy of a tent - with the candle lantern strategically placed so there is no shadow show for passers-by.

Meals like barley soup or ham and beans simmer in a metal pot over a charcoal fire.

There is no electricity, so cell phones are turned on discreetly and briefly to check for emergency messages. Radios were on the list of things not to bring. Personal space is reduced to a cot with a sleeping bag on top and you have to make sure the tent is tied shut if changing clothes.

Because this is a state park, there are portable toilets. And on the weekend, when day visitors arrive, concession stands sell food and drink that would have been available in the 18th century - but it is served on paper or plastic.

You could buy bagged ice at the fort store or get it when youths in period clothes pulled it around camp in a reproduction wooden wagon - before tucking it into coolers hidden from view.

Items for sale either in tents or on blankets had to be in compliance with authenticity standards of the 1720 to 1820 period, according to the Fort de Chartres Web site. On the list of items that could not be sold were dream catchers, pop guns and "artsy/crafty painted stuff."

Campers ranged from quiet families who said blessings before every meal to those who became more animated as the night went on, a bottle or two in hand. People could be found at various times, especially in the evenings, playing musical instruments, including one man with bagpipes playing "Amazing Grace."

The Sunday morning service was singing old-time hymns in a park shelter in the shadows of the restored stone fort.

The best part was the people and their stories. Day visitors can savor that by stopping to talk.

One merchant said those hunks hanging at his tent were 30-year-old hams cured by a secret recipe since lost, and the hams could still be used to make red-eye gravy. Others said the ham story had to be bogus.

Among others were:

w A woman who reads time travel novels and believes she has lived before, so she is at home at re-enactments.

w Listening to a man who practices gentle discipline with his oxen. He said they are loyal and sometimes die of heartache if their human owner or partner ox dies.

Perspectives sharpened from that Thursday afternoon to Sunday evening of primitive tent camping.

We really had it good. There was enough food, safe water to drink, and while heat and humidity were high, it was a safe place to be. Too many Americans take showers and flush toilets for granted - something I will never do again.

The best discovery was realizing there is a subculture of people typically not seen in great numbers anywhere else. Some are more outgoing than others, some are feisty - but it is fabulous knowing they exist and keep skills, crafts and traditions alive, all while being true to their authentic selves.