Memories From Camp
The intermediate students in Mr. Turner and Ms. House's classes returned from camp on Friday. Speaking from experience there are so many memories and lessons to take away from 3 days at Camp Evans Lake. This is an example of just one student's favourite memory.
A Bus Ride to Remember
I grinned and waved at my friends in the grade 7 bus. My muddy runners trekked up the stairs into the school bus, that greatly resembled a big canary.
“Come on bus buddy, let’s sit across from Maddie and Andjela.” My friend Lauren called from the middle of the bus.
I snickered, “You should take the window seat and remember, if you’re feeling sick aim right!”
Lauren rolled her eyes lightly as Andjela and Maddie giggled. My heart ached a little while I felt the lurch of the bus pulling forward and Camp Evans Lake slowly disappearing. My mind flashed back to hiking, campfire skits, and swimming in the rain. I was zapped out of my daydream after the bus drove over a pothole and I slid into Lauren’s lap. We both squealed. Andjela and Maddie cracked up as Lauren gave me a friendly shove.
“I have to admit though,” Andjela confessed between giggles, “Your guy’s skit was really good!” Maddie hummed in agreement.
“Ours was okay, but I almost fell off my log, yours was so funny!” Lauren said playfully shaking her head, only making us laugh harder. We were all powered on adrenaline and pizza, due to our mostly sleepless nights. The rest of our classmates at this point probably were comparing us to hyenas.
“J.T in the house!” Maddie exclaimed in her ‘rapper’ voice.
The fact that now my stomach hurt from laughing so hard was not helped, when Andjela suggested that Maddie rap for us. Maddie redid her comedic rap version of Justin Trudeau’s Canada 150 speech, all of us singing off-tune, following along. The next thing I knew, we were remaking every song you could’ve heard on the radio ‘J.T version’. That definitely made the long, sweaty, and usually miserable bus ride, an amazing bonding experience and one of my favourite camp memories. I will admit, hours later, relief washed over me as the bus pulled up to the recognizable brick building and smiling parents waved. However, the feeling was as bittersweet as my favourite kind of chocolate, I was ecstatic to see my parents, but I still longed to be braiding hair or to be the worst “canoer” ever. As I waved goodbye to the craziest people I know, (my friends) I realized something. I couldn’t wait for next year.
