Girls Camp

I turned 12 the summer of 1968.  What a summer that was!  It began with girls camp, an adventure I was not looking forward to. 

Back in those days everyone in Mesa went to Camp Lomia for girls camp.  It was a lovely place, nestled at the foot of a tall mountain covered with pine trees, just outside Pine, Arizona, a small town thirty miles past Payson.  Being the oldest girl in our family I didn't have any big sisters to prepare me for girls camp, or to tell me how fun it was, what great food we had to eat, what awesome pranks the girls pulled on each other and their leaders, or to teach me all the crazy songs girls learned around the campfire at night.  I just knew it meant leaving the security of my home and family and having to go spend a week with a bunch of girls and leaders I really wasn't comfortable with.  I did not want to go.

Mom and Dad kept trying to tell me what a good time I was going to have, but I didn't believe them.  The closer girls camp got the sicker I felt in the pit of my stomach, and the more I hoped I would get appendicitis or some other dread disease so I wouldn't have to go.  Then a miracle happened.  One of the women who was supposed to be a cabin mother couldn't go because her children got sick, and in desperation the young women leaders asked mom if she could be a cabin mother.  Mom wasn't very excited about it, she had a house full of little children to take care of, but finally she and dad worked it out so she could go.  That meant I was stuck.  If mom was going I Had to go, but I wasn't as scared anymore.

I remember riding on the bus with mom, nervous but also a little excited, pulling into the parking lot in front of the lodge, and seeing Camp Lomia for the first time.  It was very pretty.  I was anxious, though, afraid I wouldn't be able to find my suitcase and sleeping bag among all the other hundreds of bags the bus driver was pulling out from under his bus.  Mom helped me, and we found both  our bags and dragged them to the cabin we had been assigned.  The rest of the day was fun, getting to know the layout of the camp, decorating our cabin, getting settled in, and having a great dinner and fun singing songs and telling stories that night.

The next day, though, was awful.  The first year girls were supposed to go on a four mile hike that day.  We filled our canteens with cold well water in front of the lodge, gathered around the big tree there to get our instructions, and then began the hike.  The first little bit wasn't a problem, we just walked to the fence surrounding the camp and started following it.  The perimeter of Camp Lomia was supposedly four miles, but I think someone didn't figure that out right.  It was a lot farther.  Plus, it climbed straight up the front of the huge mountain girls camp nestled beneath.  Soon we were huffing and puffing, and dying.  I drank all the water in my canteen during the first half hour, trying to quench the burning in my lungs caused from climbing that mountain.  Then I was so thirsty I thought I was going to die.  I had been on lots of mountain hikes with dad  up at the cabin, but never one that climbed the face of a mountain for miles and miles.  This was awful!  My legs shook, my head ached, my lungs burned, and I felt like I was going to collapse any minute.  The worst part was that I thought everyone else was having an easy time of it.  Looking back, I suppose most everyone else was struggling, too, but I thought I was the only one.  Mom shared her water with me and helped me up the steep parts of the trail, and eventually we made it back to camp, but I will never forget how awful that hike was.  I swore then and there that I would never go on another mountain hike again as long as I lived.

That night we sang songs and put on skits and had fun again, but I was still upset about the hike.  Then, a terrible thing happened.  The lady whose place mom took came up to girls camp the next morning.  Her kids had recovered and she didn't need mom to stay any longer.  Mom was thrilled, I was horrified.  She couldn't leave!  I couldn't stay at Camp Lomia by myself!  Who would be there to take care of me, to make sure I got on the right bus when it was time to go home, to keep me from dying of fright and homesickness?  Mom couldn't go!

I suppose I put up a regular old temper tantrum. although I didn't realize that was what I was doing at the time.  I just knew I was scared and upset and I couldn't stop crying.  Mom talked and talked to me, the other cabin mothers talked and talked and tried to assure me that I would have a fun time and everything would be alright.  Mom talked to dad on the phone and then tried to talk to me again, but I was beyond reason.  I knew if mom left I would never get home again.  In the end, my poor mother gave in and stayed with me the rest of the week.  I suppose we made room in our cabin and had three cabin moms instead of two.  I don't remember.  I don't remember much of anything that happened the rest of the week, except that even with mom's help I was scared I would get on the wrong bus or put my luggage in the wrong pile, and I did not have a good time. 

Girls camp is a wonderful adventure for most young girls.  It is a chance to get away from mom and dad and brothers and sisters and just hang out, having a good time.  But, for a few insecure, immature, frightened little girls like me, girls camp is a terrifying experience.  I don't think most adults realize this, they assume it will be good for timid kids to make knew friends, learn they can get along without their parents, and grow up a little.  Maybe they're right.  I did learn a few important things that year.  Three camp songs that I love and have taught to all of my family, and the knowledge that the world keeps on going even when you are sure you are going to die, and I will live through just about anything.  But I may not want to.


My all time favorite camp songs.  (Wish I could write the music for them, too.)

Granny's In The Cellar

Oh, Granny's in the cellar, oh dearie can't you smell her?
She's cooking on that darned old dirty stove. (dirty stove)
In her eye there is a matter that keeps dripping in the batter
And that (here you make a sniffing, snuffling, sound) keeps running down her nose.

Down her nose, Down her nose,
And that (long sniffing sound) keeps running down her nose.


We Are The Spider Fighters

We are the spider fighters, we take our flash-a-lighters
We hunt them to the ground
We squish their guts around.
We pull off all their legs, we gather all their eggs
We get a great big bunch. 
They make a dandy lunch!

Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmm munch munch.
Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmm crunch crunch.
Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmm munch munch,
They make a dandy lunch!


Rose

Rose, rose, rose, rose, Will I ever see thee wed?
I will marry at thy will sire, at thy will sire.

Ding, dong, ding, dong, Wedding bells on an April morn.
Carve your name on a moss covered stone
On a moss, covered stone.

(What a shame.  Rose is my favorite song of all time, but without the mournful tune it doesn't seem like much at all.  Darn.)