When I Found Out That I Was Strong

I had been to summer camp before. My first time was when I was six and went to Camp Shiloh with my older siblings. I think we were gone for 2-3 weeks. I remember picking and eating fresh blueberries there, and my counselors were Dana and Bambi. I went to day camps until I went to my best friend's camp sleep-away camp when I was around 11 (Mont Lawn Camp). We were drifting apart at that time because of some of the teachings of the church my family started attending (we were encouraged not to be close to people who weren't part of our denomination), and I remember feeling very lonely at that camp because she wasn't really speaking to me. 

I went away to the Summer Educational Program (SEP) camp in Orr, Minnesota sponsored by my church when I was 15. Campers flew to the Minneapolis - St. Paul airport (I think that was my first time alone on an airplane), and then we were
taken on a five-hour bus trip up to Orr where we stayed for three weeks.

This was my first time away from New York City without my family, and although I was nervous about it at first, I loved my time at SEP. I loved my counselors and the other girls in my group.  Getting used to the bath house wasn't so bad, and I truly enjoyed the fresh air, archery and riflery classes, and the food was really good (I remember we drank fruit spritzers instead of soda, frogurt, and the ice cream sandwiches were made of graham crackers instead of chocolate).

One of the most challenging experiences while I was there was the three-day canoe trip through the Canadian Boundary Waters. There were two types of trips - one involved only rowing, and the other involved portages where we'd have to get out of the canoe periodically to carry our canoes and other supplies over mountainous terrain until we reached the water again. I don't know why, but I was selected for a portage trip. I wasn't a particularly strong young lady, and I wasn't sure how that would go, but we didn't get to opt out, so I tried to make the best of it.

On our way to where the trip would begin - a twisty winding road through the woods to the water - a moose crossed in front of our bus. Moose are SO tall and beautiful!! Side note: I tasted moose meat when I was in Akiuk, Alaska last September, and it was very good. Rowing through the water was hard, but not too hard for me. The biting flies were more of a challenge than the rowing. Talking and singing songs made the passage of time enjoyable (I never knew how much I'd come to rely on 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall 😊).

We'd row for a while, and then take breaks for meals and to stay hydrated. While we ate lunch, some of the campers climbed and jumped off of cliffs like the one pictured here. I was not one of those people. I am not friends with heights, but it was fascinating to watch the other campers jump and to live vicariously through their courage.

The portages were challenging, too - but I was so much stronger than I thought.  I carried one of the large propane tanks we used to cook our food and some of the oars each time. Some terrain was more steep and rocky than others, and I felt so accomplished each time we got from one side to the other and could continue our trip. I never gave up. Not once.

The more challenging parts of the trip included:

The Slammer:
Using the bathroom on the trip was no joke. I wasn't expecting high-end, well-maintained Porta Potties, but I was surprised to find out that the "facilities" were basically boxes in the middle of the open woods with no walls called The Slammer. In order to enjoy a tiny bit of privacy, we were encouraged to lay an oar across the path to the slammer so no one else would show up while you were out there taking care of business. That helped some, but it was still a very vulnerable experience.
Washing up/Drinking lake water:
We didn't carry water with us on our trip. Instead, we drank the water we were traveling through, which was a big adjustment for me. Prior to leaving for the trip, I heard all the horror stories about leeches and parasites in the water. It wasn't difficult to terrify me about this trip, coming from New York City. It gets to a point, though, when you're thirsty enough that you stop caring where your water is coming from, and you just hope for the best. I drank it, and it was fine. It actually tasted pretty fresh and pure. Because people drank the boundary waters, we couldn't wash up in the water either, so we had to fill pots with water, lay the oar across the path for "privacy," and wash up the best we could in the woods. Uncomfortable - yes, but eventually I stopped caring.

What I loved about the trip:
After we'd stop for the night and set up our tents, our guide (a very cool Australian guy whose name escapes me) prepared our dinner (including this really good bread our guide made by wrapping the dough in foil and placing it in the campfire), and played games. I loved sitting around the campfire, talking, laughing under the most beautiful night sky, and then drifting off into that deep sleep you enjoy after a hard day's work.

There is a section of my novel that includes a canoe trip, and I think I included it because this was a life-changing experience for me. I saw so many beautiful things, and I learned that I was so much stronger than I ever thought possible. It's important to include transformative experiences for the characters in the story where they come to see themselves with new eyes.