life of andyman

Even though the theme for this week is “Western,” and all the little girl campers dress up like Jessie from Toy Story 2, the theme for the beginning of the week should have been “rain.”

images/inline/week5rain.jpg” align=”right”

From Sunday until Thursday or so there was at least a rain shower a day. People who have been here more than me say that this is what it is more commonly like here–that apparently it’s been particularly dry this summer.

We were taking some kids canoeing, and slowly creeping up on us, closer every minute like someone trying to easedrop on a secret conversation, was the black cloud of death. The kind of cloud where you lose track of whatever you were talking about and say, “Oh…crud…we better get the hell out of here.” We had to get in a canoe ourselves and tow some kids in who weren’t very good paddlers.

Also, every Wednesday night we pack up all our stuff, tents, clothes, food, tarps, and hike about an hour away. This week I went to “Jake’s Meadow.”

images/inline/week5jakecamp.jpg” align=”left”

We were making our dinner, Ramen noodles, when another giant, looming storm cloud crept up. I only just finished the cooking when it began to rain. That night on campout it stormed as we fell asleep in our tents.

Because of the rain, we didn’t hang our “bear bag.” Since we’re in Colorado there’s a (slim) chance of bear’s being attracted to food, should we leave it out. So, standard procedure is to gather all your food and trash and hang it from a tree far away from your tents. But, as I said, on account of the rain, we skipped that standard procedure. Don’t get excited–we didn’t have any visits from bears. But, once, in the night, a strong wind blew the rain tarp off our tent, and at the same exact moment my co-counselor in the tent with me, Travis, let out a tiny little snore. So, to put yourself in my shoes for a moment, I’m sleeping soundly, when all of a sudden there’s a really loud tent-shaking noise and a quiet little growl. Scared the crap out of me, but I managed to figure out what had happened. By then, the storm had passed, but off in the distance, over the mountains, the sky still lit up every few seconds, the full moon shown through some thin clouds, and cool mountain breezes made the tent rustle.

images/inline/week5rock.jpg” align=”right”

In the morning, I looked around the meadow we were camping at and saw, about a quarter-mile away, a rock above the tree canopy. I grabbed a couple campers and said, “See that rock? Let’s climb it.” (Incidentally, that’s one definition of fun for me: “See that [fill in the blank]? Let’s climb it.”) And we did, and it was the best rock-climbing I’ve done all summer. It was gorgeous and just perfect because there were really challenging places to climb, but it wasn’t very high, and not too dangerous–which was good, because instead of bringing ropes and harnesses with me, I brought 12 year olds.

I had another wonderful group of kids this week. They were very enthusiastic, quite mature, no real fights or complaining, and willing to have fun.

Today I walked out on a little trail behind my cabin and some birds flew away from me. In fact, they didn’t fly away from until I nearly stepped on them, so it scared the crap out of me. I watched where they landed nearby, and I think they were wild pheasants (or quail or whatever other fat little bird people hunt–I don’t know the differences between any of them).

images/inline/week5kitty.jpg” align=”left”

A word about talking in one’s sleep: Most of the time I’m at camp, I’m in a cabin armed with up to a dozen 12 year olds and one co-counselor. I don’t know whether it’s that 12 year olds talk in their sleep a lot, or whether all people talk in their sleep that much only I don’t usually sleep in the same room as 12 other people…but there’s a lot of sleep talking. The other day my co-counselor, Travis, woke up and said, very urgently, “HOLY COW…HOLD ON GUYS, HOLD ON, holdonholdonholdon…[repeat].” I frantically searched around for my flashlight, turned it on and asked what was the matter. His response was slow, and confused, saying something like, “I was freaking out…” and then going back to sleep. Meanwhile, a kid in a nearby bunk kept doing long, voiced sighs all night: “MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmm….” Sometimes these sighs seemed to last 10-15 seconds.

images/inline/week5note.jpg” align=”right”

And I was absolutely delighted to get my first note/drawing from a camper, a sweet, quiet kid named Justin. It said, “I had fun at Camp Jackson…To: Andy, From: Justin.” My eyes got watery.

Next week is my last week: see you soon, love you,
Andy

images/inline/week5sunset.jpg