Letter From Camp # 4

Letters From Camp 4

Letter 4

Can you believe it’s been two months already? Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been incredibly busy. We--and when I say “we” I mean my bunk mates, the Fighting Otters--are the camp champions for the end of camp relay! (Note: I’m not sure if otters actually fight. We just thought that “The Otters” by itself was kind of lame.) The relays are a yearly camp tradition where all of the bunks (Cabins A-D) compete in three physical competitions that spanned across our second-to-last day here.

The first event was elimination paintball, where our team mowed over our enemies, the Wombats, the Gorillas, and the Biting Snakes, like Rambo in First Blood: Part II! Well, sort of like several of Rambo’s extended family who aren’t as physically active as him but are still trying. This was only the second time I have ever played paintball, but I enjoyed it much more this time around, seeing that I am a smaller target (-30 pounds and counting!). Interesting side note, some members of the Biting Snakes actually do bite, which makes this my third visit to the first-aid hutch this summer. As soon as I got there the nurse snorted teasing and said with all the time we’ve been spending together they might as well have moved my bunk down there. She chuckled at her little joke...while I stood there bleeding. Nice lady.

The second event was the advanced rock wall that the other camp members have appropriately named Doomsday. Oddly enough, this is where I excelled. I have been dominating the rock wall ever since my second day of camp. It’s a full-body work out and the main reason why I have lost as much weight as I have. So much so that Richard, my nickname-giving bunkmate, says that I could totally get away with just a training bra now. That’s what’s so great about Richard. He’s always looking for ways to help people...even when they don’t ask for it.

The third and final event was the swimsuit competition. Just kidding...it was the one-and-one-half-mile fun run. They lined up the entire camp, and we raced. I like running as much as the next kid, but I thought calling it the “fun run” was a tad bit misleading. It really didn’t matter how you did though; there were people walking, sprinting, jogging--all that mattered was that we finished. That’s something I have learned here: always finish the goals that you set out to reach, and even if you don’t do that well you still accomplished something. Interesting development, Head Counselor Chip kept pace with me the whole time. Gotta be honest, old Popeye and I had a pretty good time talking and running. He mentioned that I was beginning to “find my fit.” I laughed slightly and then suggested after the race we could find some fish from Lake Whinniepoopoo...there was an awkward moment when Head Counselor Chip revealed that a fishing accident was how he had lost his eye. Apparently there’s a segment about in on When Recreational Fishing Goes Wrong. I’ll have to check it out sometime on YouTube.

Either way, with all of The Fighting Otters’ times added together and with us winning the rock wall and the paintball challenge, we ended up taking first place over all! They took our picture by the large trophy (which looks as if it hasn’t been removed from the trophy case since the camp’s founding) and gave us all mini-trophies to take home. I was a little offended when they added, jokingly, that the trophies were not made out of chocolate...but not even that could hurt me today.

Looking back on my time here I can only say...thanks. I mean, I’m gonna be honest with you. At first I thought you were doing this to be a pain in my ass (sorry for swearing, Mom), but after all Dr. Folmack has said about the dangers and boredom of living a “sedentary lifestyle” (or what Cheryl so politely calls “sitting on my fat ass playing video games”), I can see now why this meant so much to you and why it should have meant so much more to me. I always felt bad about ditching out when my friends would all go hiking or something, but I never really felt motivated enough to make a choice and change all that. Guess you can’t always take things at face value, huh?

Well, we are loading the buses bright and early tomorrow. You should probably get this before I get on the plane to come home.

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease!

Your son,

Billy

P.S. But seriously, Cheryl got to go to Maui? What the hell!?