Camp Tales - High Ropes

At one camp, part of staff training involved teamwork activities, one of which included a high ropes course that was a part of the offerings at camp. For those not sure what a high ropes course is, it is like an obstacle course build up high in tress or poles. Ours was located up in a bunch of trees that were reached by a high ladder and ended with a zip line across a field. Every person who went up on the course was required to wear a harness for safety and support that high up. (Part of our naturalist staff was trained and certified in this.)

The first year, I made it up the ladder to the platform, but my fear of heights was so severe that I didn't make it any further and ended up coming down. I helped catch people when they came off the zip line.

The second year, I got a little braver. Despite my nearly debilitating fear of heights I got up the ladder, hooked up to the harness, and through the course... somehow. My high ropes course partner was just about as afraid of heights as I was and we spent a large amount of the course with me wrapped around a tree and my partner wrapped around me and the tree. We made it through, taking the shortest route we could and even made it across the field on the zip line. Facing our fears is not always an easy thing to do, but it can be done and there can be great rewards as a result.

Camp Tales - A Clown in Camp

It's not easy been a clown... but it an be a lot of fun.

My first summer at camp my roommates learned that I did a little clowning on the side, not the typical side hobby, but since do I go for typical. One of my roommates had her own county coming into camp and asked me if I would be willing to clown for her county for their carnival night. I agreed and we let their staff know, making the necessary arrangements.

My roommates had never seen me in clown costume and make up, let alone watch me get ready The guys were watching TV when I started getting ready but putting on my top and tights then laid out the colorful make up. I started with my layer of white make up, covering up my skin thoroughly then sat for a few moments in front of the fan, letting it dry completely. The guys soon seemed more fascinated with watching me put on clown make up than whatever they were watching on TV (probably a movie they had already seen, since we had no cable and only got about 1 1/2 channels depending on the day and the wind being just right). Before long they had watched me transform from me to a face painted, costume wearing, wig wearing clown. Then I headed down to the recreation hall for the carnival.

I am a silent clown, often prone to bouts of shyness in response to shy kids. (It also helps keep my identity from kids who might know from the Craft Hall.) I spend the time making balloon animals for kids and having visiting adult staff trying to catch me up and get me to talk (which I did not let them succeed).

After the carnival, the kids headed to the next event on their evening agenda while the staff got to play on the bouncy thing without them.... even the clown. (And there she did talk.... or scream as she played with the rest jumping, pushing, and being pushed.)

Camp Tales - Underground Railroad

Many camps offer a variety of activities that not only get the kids outside and having some sort of adventure, but also teach. At the camp I spent the most time working, we offered an Underground Railroad program. It was a combination project that gave the kids a background in the Underground Railroad, then divided them up into groups, and sent them through the woods to go through a number of "Railroad Stops", while not being caught or shot (water gun) by slave chasers (often their counselors). Each stop had different things they had to successfully maneuver, while getting their entire "family" group safe into the North. It was a combination of adventure mixed with history. One summer one of the staff decided he wanted to bring an new element to the project and offered to dress like a runaway slave and give an mini scene as part of the presentation. He came to me about creating a costume for him.

Using an old white shirt from the paint shirts in the Craft Hall I went to work dying it in multiple couples from my tie dye buckets to give it a dingy appearance, let it dry. I even rolled it in the dirt, stomping on it as I went. (Receiving a few interesting looks from passing campers and staff that didn't know what I was working on) I placed it on his body then armed with a pair of scissors I went to work shredding the sleeves and edges, then made slips across his back like whip marks.

Using what I had on hand, which happened to be make up, I bloodied up the edges of the whip marks with red lipstick mixed with mascara and blush.

We completed the costume with an old pair of jeans he had, a beat up pair of unlaced boots, a chain we borrowed from something on camp, and a walking stick he found on camp. Using more of my make up, I made marks on his skin underneath the slits on his shirt with my light colored concealer (it looked great on his dark skin for this effect), red lipstick, black mascara and eye liner, with a mixture of eye shadow and blush.

He prepared his own scene to introduce himself as a runaway a slave before the kids were sent off on the journey and was waiting for the in the "North" when they got there. The reaction of the kids to his character and the whip marks we created was amazing to us both. A couple of the kids forget we were playing and were afraid that touching his painted arks would cause him pain. It had a definite impact on a number of us and brought a new depth to the project that any of them had participated multiple summers.

Camp Tales - Staff Quarters

Living at camp whether in a cabin or in staff quarters can be an intersting eperience. I never lived in a cabin as a counselor, instead I lived staff quarters or in a cabin with my dog. The upside of living in staff quarters is a certain freedom that can not exist in the rest of camp. Of course, putting five girls in one room is an experiment in social constructs. Even when living at camp where most live in jeans, shorts, t-shirts, or bathing suits there is a question of closet and drawer space.

Between the girls and the guys room next door we learned to share. We did get sick of each other at times, but we learned to deal with each other. We shared our bedrooms, a living room with a kitchenette on one end, bathrooms, and a washer and driver. Inside the staff quarters we cooked together, watched movies (we only had one or two channels on a good day), played games, and terrorized each other.

Mostly the quarters were pretty decent. Bugs and insects found a way in and there were a couple larger critters that found their way in, including a raccoon and a snake.

Camp Tales - Fashion

Living at camp and need something nice to wear to dinner? Why not make something out of what you have on hand... like black and white garbage bags.

One warm afternoon, while our quarters were being bug bombed, we were trying to come up with something to wear to a "nice" dinner. Lucky for us, I had a stash of plastic garbage bags in the Craft Hall. We fashioned dresses fro large black trash bags accenting them with strips of white garbage bags for bows, belts, and even hair ties. Once we were all 'gussied' up we needed needed dates to escort us with we made from balloons with drawn on faces. They were a huge hit with the campers, counselors, and other staff. You use what you have, and we had garbage bags.

Camp Tales - Can You Hear Me Now?

Have you ever tried to make a phone call in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever wandered around with your phone out in front of you trying to find a spot where you can get a single bar as you watch your phone at "no service"? Live at camp in the middle of now where and you will understand.

At the Ohio camp I called home for more than one summer cell phone rage was a big hit or miss. We had a land line that rang into the staff quarters, but it also rang into the kitchen and the office. Some cell companies didn't get any service at all, many of the locals had a service that that was sketchy, but most of us had to climb a big hill and wander around until we found that lucky bar that allowed us to check messages and get calls out. I had a system of going to the large wooden cross at the top of the hill and then walking away from it in multiple directions until I found service. Once I got service I could move around more, sometimes adjusting as needed.

Most summer camp programs don't allow campers to have cell phones, but staff is a whole different story. Trips into town often involved cell phone message rings going off the closer into town we got. I found that you might wander a bit to get ell phone reception but you could get a great view in the process.

June Poll - Summer Camp

Since it's the first day of June it's time for a new poll (located on the right hand side right below the slides show). In honor of the summer sun and the years I spent at various camps I'm asking you about your summer camp experience, whether as a camper or staff/counselor.

Summer Camps are such a great American experience and growing up I always looking forward to hauling my sleeping bag and duffel into the woods. It's something I carry with me always.

Check out the tags for Camp, the Craft Hall, or  Camp Tales to read more about some of my adventures and time at camp.

Camp Tales - For the Love of the Spiders

Most of my rules and daily life at camp involved creativity, creation, and the safety of those who spent time in my Craft Hall. I encouraged my campers to create and assured them in their creativity was one of their greatest gifts. But there was another lesson I was trying to constantly instill in my young charges - to constantly respect the natural world around us and the creatures that made this place their home during the months we were there and the months we were not. Protecting the spiders and the webs in the corners of my raft Hall was nearly a constant battle. Somehow any of these kids saw the spider webs in the high corners of the pavilion that sered as a Craft Hall as a threat that needed someone clean out. Perhaps it was the hippy in me, but the one rule that I had to constantly remind both campers and counselors was to respect my spiders. I reminded them that during the months that we were not there, the critters were the only ones who called this places home. I reminded them that the critters called this place home year round and not a week at a time, like they did. I reminded them that the spiders had an important job to catch other bugs and mosquito's, the very ones they often complained about biting them. I reminded them constantly, that the spiders were my friends and did not like my friends being injured or their work undone. Somehow, my spiders were generally left alone and I hope that a few kids gained a new light about the world around them.

For the love of my spiders... leave them in peace.

Camp Tales - Flooded

In honor of the recent heavy rains...

At the first camp I spent my summers in the Craft Hall, the camp was divided into two sides and connected by a driving a bridge and an iconic walking bridge. The boys cabins were located on one side, with the pool, a Recreation Building, and a scattering of other buildings. This was usually refered to as the "Boys' Side," for obvious reasons. The other side, included the multi-purpose building (that housed the staff), the camp offices, the dining hall, the Craft Hall, and of course, the girls cabins. (This calling it the "Girls' Side.) Each side had bathrooms and showers and a road to get in and out (although the one side was less used and needed a vehicle capable of rougher terrain.) The bridges were very important to movement back and forth connecting camp, as well as for non-resident staff to get to the staff parking and for delivery trucks to the dining hall.

Boards were placed in the car bridge regularly to dam it for canoeing, a feat that often took multiple staff members to achieve safely. We had to be careful in times of rain, especially rain as the water would rise a start to lap over it. With caution some vehicles could get over this like going through a puddle, but after one very heavy rain driving over the bridge became impossible for ANY vehicle, not matter how high they sat. The high water flooded over the driving bridge and onto the bank, too fast and deep to risk any vehicle, and leaving access to the two sides of camp to a higher sitting walking bridge. (Where all these pictures were taken from.) Extra caution was taken and food delivery trucks had to be unloaded on one side of camp and carried across the foot bridge and across most of the camp to get to the kitchen/dining hall. The real adventure was seemed to be on the smaller cars "trapped" on the other side of the bridge, unable to leave without using the back road, a rough one through trees and up a steep hill. With caution, it could be done, but there was a very real fear of bottoming out or getting stuck.

Camp life was rarely boring and one never knew what might lead to the next adventure, even heavy rain and a low lying bridge.

Camp Tales - The Freezer

The first summer I was at camp, I started the summer off with cleaning, organizing, sorting and taking a general account of supplies. (This would become typical for the beginning of these summers at camp.) I had become begrudgedly accustomed to finding the the occasional dead furry thing amongst the boxes of yarn, fabric, popsicle sticks, old magazines, markers, beads, thread, & so on. (I had an agreement with the Head Naturalist/Environmental Ed Director that as long as I didn't freak out over the dead things or the live ones I came across, he would make one of the naturalists remove the dead animal from my space.) It was common to come across where animals had sought refuge bedding and food especially during the old months when the raft Hall was closed up. I had entire cardboard box of twine that had been so destroyed from wintering mice, that I ended up heaving into the dumpster.

As I cleaned that first summer, I found any things from summer's past as I sorted through through boxes crates, spider webs, and dirt. As I moved boxes I was prepared for things that moved, slithered, and crawled. Beneath a pile of boxes I found an old freezer. It was a smallish chest freezer, still decorated with ice cream stickers from when it had lived once in the camp store. It was not uncommon to use old freezers for storage against ravaging critters and I wondered if it still worked or if it was full of more craft supplies. I opened the lid slowly, not sure what I would find, but not prepared for what I did find. Eyes stared up at me, but not the living kind. I slammed the lid tightly, before slowly opening it again. It was a working freezer full of carefully wrapped dead birds and tiny mice and baby bunnies mostly in clear plastic. For a moment it felt like something from a horror film and I was suddenly recalling how any such films took place at a summer camp deep in the woods. I didn't scream. I didn't yell I didn't run. I quietly closed the lid and left it be until I could figure out what the heck was going on with a freezer of dead animal in my Craft Hall.

I found out later about the freezer and like with any things there was a reasonable explanation. Our camp had a full Nature enter full of stuffed animals that had died of natural causes. Some of the birds and creatures were ones that they were waiting to be taken to the taxidermy when funds were made available. We were also a Bird of Prey Rescue and the frozen mice and baby bunnies were ones that were used to be to be cut up and fed to injured birds in need of food. (It made me very glad not to be one of the Naturalists that this task often fell to.) It all made sense when explained, but looking back the explanation would have been nice to come BEFORE I opened a freezer of dead animals looking up at me.

Camp Tales - A Rustic Life

Five Girls - One Shower

Camp is a different world and if you have never gone, it's hard to understand. When you live and work there for an entire summer it is a VERY different world. There is a rawness that seeps from and through every aspect. AT one camp my craft hall consisted of a pavilion with a storage space on the end I shared with the naturalists, at another I had a real room, but it was still on the rustic side. Showers, meals, cabins... everything tends to favor the rustic side of life, even the staff. For many kids, it is their first time away from home and their parents. It is not uncommon for counselors to have to strongly remind campers to shower or brush their teeth. Admittedly, the staff often looks a little different than they do in real life as well, adapting to life in the middle of now where. It's not surprise that camp life often a attracts people that tend to favor what many might consider among the hippy variety. While we showered and I know of no staff that let personal hygiene lack, I admit that it was no uncommon that my one roommate and I had a tendency to wait to brush our hair AFTER breakfast. As staff we couldn't get away with pajamas in the dining hall (dress codes), but we highly valued our time sleep time in the morning, choosing to make our tea and pulling hair into pony tails or loose knots over taking the time to actually do something with it. We brushed it, after breakfast when we had more time.

Even when we weren't pulling our hair into a knot for breakfast, camp brings out a different part of a person and their appearance. My long hair was usually pulled back into a variety of pony tails, braids, and pig tails. While the staffs I lived and worked with embraced the more natural and rustic life, we also looked forward to dressing up a bit. One summer on one of our first visits off site our excitement evolved from a heading into town for dinner to being able to wear the things we couldn't on site (tank tops & halter tops not going with our working dress code) to actually going through the process of doing our hair and even applying some make-up. The guys we lived with shook their heads, but later that evening many of the campers we spent our days and meals with didn't recognize us. I would find surprise later with campers and counselors that I ran into after camp was done and we all went back to our regular lives.

Yes, camp life is different. It's special and allows a bit of rawness that the rest of the world doesn't always have a place for. For some people it's just a summer, for others it gets into their blood.

Camp Tales - A Sinking Feeling

At one camp the Craft Hall and the Nature Center worked together whenever we could to combine crafts & nature. One of our favorite shared projects was to make plaster castings of animal prints. We kept our eyes at for good spots; along the nearby river or the on-site pond served rich with tracks of animals coming in for water.

One sunny afternoon a small group of staff (including me and the toy Pomeranian that lived with me on site) took a group of kids and headed towards a creek that was fed by the river. It was rich with tracks of deer and raccoon of all sizes. There were some wonderful & delicate tiny prints from baby raccoon. To make the castings the animal print in filled in with the plaster of paris mixture, let dry, removed, allowed to dry thoroughly, and cleaned. (We always made sure to put the camp name and year on the bottom as well.) This meant you had to get to the print to fill it and then again after it set.

On this particular day, some of the kids found some great prints on the other side of the little creek, that seemed rather shallow. My five foot three frame started across the muddy space, while one of the younger staffers stayed on the bank with the kids and my 5 lb. dog. The bottom was muddy and my feet stuck a few times, but mud and dirt are a part of camp & nature. No big deal, right? I thought that, until I got stuck. It wasn't just a little stuck, I sunk and as mud and water moved up past my knees and towards my waist I wasn't able to get myself unstuck. I probably would have sunk more, but I found a hard surface on a log that had fallen into. (If it wasn't a log, I don't want to know and would rather continue to believe it was a log.) A few of the kids were worried, I was drenched, and my little dog was freaking out from his perch in the dog purse. (I know it doesn't sound very camp-like, but most of the staff had dogs on site, mine was just small and elderly.) With a little help from the fellow staffer in the muck and mud with me I was able to get freed from the mud and back to dry land. I was covered in mud from toe to waist, but the dog and the kids seemed much happier to have me unstuck.

We got a number of good castings that day and I was able to sen a younger staffer to find me a change of dry shorts from my cabin while we cleaned them up. I may have been stuck in mud up to my knees and water a bit higher, but mud is a part of life sometimes... and definitely a part of camp life.

Camp Tales - The Spider

Nature is a part of working and living at a summer camp. It is part of the challenge, the perks, the overall experience. Most of it is good, occasionally we run across things that are not so good - like when the bridge connecting the two side of camp is flooded (again), bug bites, poison ivy (not me, but others), bad cell phone service (and climbing a hill to get it), camp food (even from good kitchens staff gets sick of the constant repeats), shared living space (everyone gets pushed sometimes), and bathroom situations (at Girl Scout camp we used latrines). I expected mice. I expected snakes and bugs... I actually like a lot of them, defending & protecting the spider webs in my Craft Hall corners, but spending my days in a Craft Hall one does not expect to run across some of the same things a Naturalist might. I was a bit wrong.

At one camp my Craft Hall was located near the Camp Office, staff quarters, a recycling shed, and down a little hill from the kitchen at the back end of the dining hall. It was a good location, convenient, but much of my own space. I liked having the Recycling Shed nearby for retrieval or disposal of things like cardboard. One quiet afternoon I had been cleaning and organizing (a constant battle in that world) and headed the short walk to the shed, a piece of cardboard in hand. As I opened the sliding metal door, I felt something fall down the side of my face, inside of my glasses, and down. I thought perhaps it was a dust ball or something, but as I looked down to my arm, I was not expecting to see a large brown spider. (About an inch to inch-and-a-half in diameter of legs.) I knew what it was, having had a Naturalist show me a large, battle scarred brown recluse that was living in a woodpile not long before. With the brown recluse resting on the edge of my three quarter sleeve, I look around me. No one was in sight and it was doubtful if anyone would hear me call out without having to yell and even then not necessarily right away. With a piece of cardboard in hand, I made a decision and with one swift movement of the cardboard I sent the spider flying and away from me. I like spiders and had no desire to kill the thing, but I did not want it on me or biting me. It just goes to show you, that even the Craft Instructor can face down the BIG bugs that can hurt you while keeping one's cool and without needing rescued. (Although, I happily took the help when it came to removing the occasional dead mouse or squirrel found among my storage shelves.)

Check Out More About the Brown Recluse

Camp Tales - A Girl & a Drill Press

One of the benefits of working at camp as an Arts& Craft Instructor, was being able to teaching basic woodworking to kids 9-14, a good portion of them never having any previous experience with it. This was especially true with many of the young girls. It was nothing too difficult; hammering (for string art), wood burning, sanding, and the drill press (for wood games using golf tees and wooden squares pre-cut for them). I had safety lines, safety goggles, and strict rules about no one using the drill press without my supervision and wood burners needing my supervision or the supervision of one of my counselors or other staff.

I was exposed to woodworking young through my grandpa and 4-H, debating in Middle School of becoming a Shop Teacher. I took woodworking projects in 4-H and even built a cedar chest that went to State Fair (for another story). I even helped with 4-H woodworking judging at State Fair one year (a great story for another time). I wanted my campers to be safe, but I also wanted them to know that the basics were attainable.

One sunny afternoon, I had the usual mix of boys and girls in the Craft Hall ready to take on the drill press. A little girl of about 9 or 10 crossed my red line into the drill press area, safety glasses on, her sanded & marked piece of wood in hand. She didn't act too sure about the powerful machine she had watched others use & was now standing before. I went over the basics again, encouraging her that she was just as capable of this as anyone else. There was no rule that said girls couldn't do woodworking or handle power tools. We lined up the first hole to be drilled as she took a hold of the handle, slowly and gingerly pulling the drill bit down into the wood, making the hole. As she raised the handle and released, I watched her change as her face lit up. In an instant, something changed and suddenly the little girl timid about a power tool knew that she could do it and knew that she had done it. There was excitement and a realization that come about in drilling that first hole as well as a truth that she was truly just as capable as anyone else. That day a little girl was introduced to woodworking and maybe to the power she was a capable of.

Perhaps, it's the feminist in me or a reminder of the little girl I was, going to woodworking judging surrounded by boys, but that afternoon a little girl realized that girls can and being a girl shouldn't stop her. That afternoon, I got to be make a difference in one little girl and I got to watch it happen.

Camp Tales - The Snake

One of my favorite camp memories is about a snake. This wasn't just any snake, this was a snake that decided to take up residence in the Craft Hall for the better part of a day.

It started as a typical tie dye day in the Craft Hall. (Tie Dye Day was always weekly must.) Before my first session I was prepping the space. I had dye ready and waiting in the buckets with rubber bands, clothes pins, masking tape, & fabric markers set out in wait for eager hands, a tie dye shirt on, and was hanging multiple examples from the rafters to help inspire them. (When working with groups, especially kids, I prefer to have a variety of examples to show them everything does not need to end up looking the same.)

Standing atop a ladder, I was about halfway across the rafter hanging shirts (from my large personal collection) when I looked up, coming face to face with THE snake. I admit, I do not know my snakes as well as I wish I did and had no idea what kind it was; only that it was very large and that it was currently only a few feet above where I would soon have a group of eager campers. I calmly stopped what I was doing, climbed down the ladder, and moved quickly to the camp office next door to find the Environmental Ed Director (or Head Naturalist) to let him know I had visitor. Excited, he came to check out our new friend, who he explained was a female rat snake, harmless to my human campers that would be arriving soon. Knowing the kids would be fine, I decided to not let them know about the new friend right above them, in an attempt to have the snake left alone.

One of my campers, a little girl, was armed with her camara when she arrived and was happily clicking away throughout the time she spent with me (and the snake resting above). We made it through the morning without any of the campers realizing the what was right above one of the front rafters (not over any of the tables). The little girl was telling me about how much she loved nature and all sorts of creature and wanted to get as many pictures as possible. She showed no fear or nervousness over the dirt or bugs or critters that are often a part of camp life, so as most the campers were gone, leaving mostly just counselors, I asked the girl if she wanted a special photo op. She was eager and ready.... so we all thought.... until.... I pointed out my new friend. The little girl who loved nature and all critters DID NOT LOVE SNAKES and at the sight of the serpent stretched across my rafter she took off screaming on horror. Not the pretend kid of horror... the "I think it's going to eat me" horror. We did catch and calm her down (a bit anyway), but she did not return to the Craft Hall as long as my friend was perched above.

The female rat snake became a nearly instant camp celebrity as she stayed in the rafters for most of the week, whether stretched out along the rafter or curled up in the corner of them. The rest of the staff (from the Camp Director on down) asked about her at meals and some visited. I had an increase of curious boys doing crafts and spent some time on multiple occasions explaining why we were not going to chase the snake away by throwing things at her or spraying her with the hose with my constant conversations involving respecting nature and remembering that we were surrounded by woods. This was their home, we were merely summer visitors. We also had many conversations about the benefits of snakes and I had to put a line down on the floor where they could watch the snake while giving her some space. For the staff, many of the counselors and campers, the snake was an awesome opportunity to see something so beautiful so close. She was that week's celebrity.

Eventually, she moved on, hopefully, taking some of the mice form my Craft Hall with her.