Help Me Remember Summer Camp!

[lisa123414]

okay, i warned you....

Comet!
It makes your mouth turn green!
Comet!
It tastes like gasoline!
Comet!
It makes you vomit!
So drink some comet,
And vomit,
Today!

Comet
It makes your mouth turn red
comet
It makes you wet the bed
Comet
It makes you vomit!
So drink some comet,
And vomit,
Today!

 

[3113]

Comet!
It makes your mouth turn green!

Okaaay. There are some things I'd sooner *not* remember about summer camp and that was one of them. My brain is tainted

 

[Guest]

I remember I had this truly great summer hat that I loved. Very cool.

The wind took it one day and blew it halfway across the lake. I was sad (ok - I was probably 10) but one of our camp leaders stripped to her undies and swam out and got my hat.

She was also very cool.

 

[Dar~]

I went to a Girl Scout camp when I was young. I sold a lot of cookies so I could go for free. I won the Hiker award. I am from Montana, it's spectacularly beautiful. I miss it now. I remember taking off on one of our break periods. I got a big stick and just climbed the hill we were camped on. I sat on this huge rock and looked out over this beautiful valley as the sun crested the hill on the other side. It was amazing.

I also remember sitting around the campfire on the night we were going to do the skit for my cabin. Each night a different cabin performed a skit for the other cabins. I vaguely remember ours was about swim suit fashions or some such and we had asked a counselor to toss a bucket of water on us at a specific point in the skit. Well, someone told us that they had seen Dennie (the counselor) with a bucket of paper confetti. We assumed that meant she was going to dump that instead of water, so when the spot in the skit came for us to be soaked, none of us were expecting water. Whew were we caught off guard and it was crazy cold too. The bucket of confetti was for a party the next night...being 8 year olds, we didn't associate the whole environment thing into our deduction that she was just going to paper us. She was my favorite counselor. I remember thinking something was different about her, and I loved hanging out with her. looking back, I think she was a very butch dyke. I never saw her again after that. She was from another Girl Scout district and lived in another town. I wish her well. I have many happy memories of camp because of her.

I never got to co to any other sleep away camps, but Camp Thunderbird is a treasured place in my mind.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Our Girl Scout camp is named: Camp Singing Hills.

My daughters have gone there for summer camp. One year was scary though. My eldest (she was 9 at the time this happened) slept walked out of her tent (we didn't know she had a sleep walking issue - this was the first time ever as far as we know). But anyway, she woke up in the middle of the woods. She called out for help, cried and of course was very scared. In time she told herself that she had to find her way back, so in the dark (who knows what time it was), she walked through the woods hoping to find her way back to her campsite.

She told me of how she had to pee in the woods and got tired during her trip and laid down on the ground with a log as her pillow. When she reached the meadow (the large field in the center of the woods) she knew where she was and hiked back to her tent, but stopped at the charge person's tent first and told them what happened.

In the morning when the sun was out they checked her out at the infirmary. Her hands, feet, legs were covered in scratches, and she had lots of splinters, which did for the most part come out when she went swimming in the pool. She got to swim extra long since they took her there as soon as it was warm enough and it wasn't even time for her group to go.

She decided she wanted to stay at camp. So she did. They tied a string that was attached to a bell to her tent door, so if she did walk again the bell would ring and alert the counselors. It never went off.

The following year she hesitated about going back, but I explained to her that this sleep walking had never happened again and that if she never went back then she would in time not only regret all the lost experiences, but could very well build up a fear. So she went and had another great time.

Personally... I fretted the whole week.

 

[trysail]

CAMP​

They were the happiest, most carefree days of my life. Whether it was riflery or archery or sailing or swimming or water-skiing or turning a block of wood on a lathe**, it was all glorious fun. As long as I live, I will never forget the pungent and delicious smell of balsam or the sedative of loons calling across a glassy lake or the deep refreshing sleep of a blanket-cool July night.


The trips could be arduous but they provided a tremendous sense of accomplishment.


I distinctly recall my first experience above the treeline and how cool, clean and crisp the air felt after emerging from the claustrophobia-inducing mud, mosquitoes and humidity of the forest. The craziest among us went swimming in snow-melt ponds. I remember reading the sign at the base of a mountain advising climbers to exercise good judgment and relating that hundreds of people had died on it due to exposure and hypothermia. Mid-day lunches comprised of SPAM™-topped ( I kid you not ) saltines and cheese were eagerly awaited and happily wolfed down.


I recall struggling toward the summit whilst enshrouded in the midst of a cloud bank and howling winds that threatened to capsize my 95 pound frame burdened with its 30-pound pack.


The sight of the canoe we unintentionally destroyed by getting caught against a rock in the rapids will be forever seared in my mind. It was an object lesson in the tremendous force exerted by flowing water. The portages were occasionally "character building" as we struggled with the problem of how best to move those classic sixty pound Grumman alumnium canoes over varying distances through mud and mosquito-infested woods. Those damn things sure could cause intense pain after several minutes bouncing about on the top of our shoulders.


Blissful sunny afternoons were spent paddling and sailing our canoes across the lake to the evening's destination. When the wind was right, we'd jury-rig a spar made of paddles and afix ponchos as makeshift sails. With the right combination, we'd surf downwind 'cross a lake without lifting so much as a finger. What days those were! Ne'er other souls in sight with the pine forest shores extending as far as the eye could see beyond the sparkling diamonds of lake-reflected sun.


There was the time we traipsed into the isolated and tiny town by following the railroad tracks that were close by that night's campsite. After a rare treat of somebody else's cooking at a seasonal diner in town, we were absolutely unable to locate our campsite in the dark. After stumbling back to town, the enormously embarrassed counselors were forced to place a collect call back to the home camp to request permission to house us in the town's ramshackle hotel for the night.


The eating occasioned by the bottomless appetites resulting from full days of paddling or mountain climbing was astonishing. I will never forget the morning I ate fifty ( 50 ) pancakes hot off the griddle. 'Twas where I learned to handle a Sven saw and an axe; it was a simple proposition— no firewood, no food.


There was tetherball and badminton and basketball and ping pong games while waiting for the dinner bell to ring. There were the mad pranks. One night, the twenty of us in our cabin arose at 3:00 in the night in order to hide and misplace every single item of loose equipment in the home camp. When 7:00 came, there was no bell that could be found to rouse the camp, there were no tables, no chairs, no balls, no silverware, no kitchen equipment and no plates. The administrators were forced to grant blanket immunity in return for restoration of the facilities.

... the maddest, damndest, gladdest existence ever known to mortal youth.
-H. L. Mencken

____________________________________
** One has to wonder if it is even possible to expose kids to this sort of thing in these days when the threat of litigation is ever present. The thought of all those knives, axes, saws, lathes and guns in the hands of boys between 8 and 14 years old is the kind of stuff that would have shysters rubbing their hands together in eager anticipation.

 

[favoritesgoddess]

I went to 4-H camp for a week. It was a long time ago, but I remember bug juice as being Kool-Aid served in dented metal pitchers, and the food being just a step below cafeteria food.

We slept about 6 girls to a cabin. We each I don't remember showering or bathing, but I do remember going home with a duffel bag full of wet pants because I had such a phobia about using the latrine that I peed my pants most every day. We called the bathrooms latrines.

I don't remember campfires, but we did swim every day and I didn't like the enforced sports participation, like "Okay, it's time for softball!" and everyone had to go play softball. I did learn to rock climb which was fun even though I sucked at it. At least no one was throwing balls at my head.

I sent a postcard home and I got there before it did.

I got a green and white sweatshirt that I wore until it shredded.

I cried when my mom dropped me off because I didn't want to go, and I cried when she came to get me because I didn't want to leave.