Camp from a Beaver's perspective

(Note from Rob:  For this post, I am going to do something I have never done before...  have a guest author.  My son, Matthew, asked me if I would be willing to put something he wrote on this blog, so he could be part of the 'Welch Camp Blog' experience.  This is Matthew's final year as a camper at Indian Acres... he is an upper 'Beaver', and here are few words about what this very special place means to him.  Enjoy!)

Da Beaver
Photo by Laurie Endsly
Photography

I once was asked by a newly-made friend at a pizza place how in the world we could leave everything behind, and go to Maine and live in the woods at a camp for 2 months. At the time I didn’t have a great response, so here is my long-overdue, long-winded response on why I attend summer camp at Indian Acres, 04037 in Fryeburg Maine.

I read an article written by a lady who was talking about how she sent her kids away to a sleep away camp. The article opened with a comment from another woman “Do you even like your children?” The article goes on to talk about getting ready for college, summer school, and so on; but I wish to focus on another line: “They adore camp, and it’s actually harder on me than it is on them. I often tell people the first year they were both gone, it felt like I had lost an arm.” 

While Ms. Clydesdale wrote a magnificent article, after reading it I realized that I don’t have that problem-- my father works from home, so he and the whole family can come with me; also that article was about why a ‘Parent’ would send their kid to camp, but in my case, the question is-- why would a ‘family’ continuously attend?

I cannot speak for the rest of my family; I can only speak for myself, so that begs the question: why do I go to camp?. The answer is simple--if I did not go to camp I would be a 16 year old taking care of a house without a car or a driver’s license, with no one to care for me and I would be eating ramen noodles basically every day. So a better question is, why do I want to go back to camp? Because I enjoy camp; so perhaps the best question is why do I enjoy camp? 

Camp means songs and cheers, campfires and guitars, sweat and hard work.  I may be giving up a summer of hanging out with friends at home, and preparing for college but I gain a whole bucket worth’s more in memories, creativity, and experience.

You know the old saying “Let kids be kids?” Well, that doesn’t happen anymore: yes, teenagers need

responsibility; yes, they are older than younger kids who play in the mud and say “BAUBBLES!”-- but even older teenagers need to have fun. In our hectic world, every adult needs some rest and relaxation, and we long for the care free days of our youth, but those memories won’t be of college prep classes and internships, but of skies full of stars, friends, and stuff that happens past midnight. 

Without camp I would never be the man I am today, I would never know people from other countries and keep in contact with them, I would have never have been out of the United States. My favorite stories to tell-- ‘almost robbed in Canada’ and ‘smuggling a mini-fridge,’ would not exist. Two of my closest friends would be strangers, I would never have a emotional attachment to the numbers 04037, and most importantly I would have missed out on a chance to hone my musical, artistic, and athletic skills.

You want to know why I come back to camp every year? It is because when I am old and talking to my friends in the nursing home, I won’t remember the college prep course my mom made me go to (which I did enjoy mind you!), I won’t remember the days spent making a resume for college, or trying to learn how to save money there. 

I will remember doing musicals like Grease; I will remember starry nights, silent meals, camp crushes, card games, camp outs, smuggling candy, singing, dancing, eating, laughing, campfires, and swimming in the Saco river at my home away from home: Indian acres, 1712 Main St, Fryeburg, ME 04037. 

Categories: camp, Maine