The name of the camp wasn't Granada, although the lake did have a sign that read, "Beware of Alleygators." And I did hear tell it was full of leeches. Other than that, however...

Have you ever been encapsulated for an extended period of time with people who can't sing but insist on doing so anyway, talk nonstop about boyfriends and ex-boyfriends and makeup and people you don't know, and who ask you to explain what an adjective/adverb/plural noun is every time it's their turn for Mad Libs? (Insert derogatory comment about California educational system here.) For seven and a half hours on Sunday, this was my situation. It was more than worth it, though.

My father, brother, I and two of my Scout girls arrived at Camp Emerson Sunday evening to take part in a Venturing camp called Ranger Quest, so called because its focus was on helping complete Ranger (an outdoor skills award) and Quest (a sports award) requirements. It was a small group, only seven of us youth and four adults, but was an incredibly fun time. (Plus, since it was staff week before summer camp starts, we got to socialize with all the staff.) One girl was focused on sports, one on wilderness survival, one girl and both the guys on shooting, and three (myself, my dad, and one of my girls) on earning our lifeguard certification. That turned out to be more of a challenge than I was expecting.

We'd brought wetsuits just in case the water was freezing--and it was. And when we put them on the next day in front of Warren, the brand-new, 21-year-old jack*ahem* of an aquatics director, he told us we weren't allowed to have any "extra equipment." That included wetsuits (which provided "an unfair buoyancy factor"), goggles to keep my contact lenses from coming out underwater, and earplugs for the other girl, whose ears hurt when they got water trapped in them. He would give us a hard time about us wanting to get used to the water and about things like me finding it difficult to retrieve a ten-pound weight from the deep end when I couldn't open my eyes underwater and wasn't allowed to wear goggles. He'd complain about us to everyone, even my brother and the other youth; crack extremely off-color jokes; and was very demeaning to both of us girls and the girl on his staff. I don't think I found anyone all week who liked him.

Anyway, the first afternoon we were training with him and his staff, we had to toss a ring buoy past where he was floating and within arm's reach. Now, normally I have terrible aim. As I did at first. But he started making fun of how badly I was throwing, and something in me just snapped. My aim was nearly deadly accurate for the rest of the session. I kept nicking his ear, hitting his shoulder, etc. I very nearly took his head off--and not for the last time, either. I couldn't help a huge devilish grin. "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?" he said. I just grinned bigger. One of the staff high-fived me and the others snickered.

And then suddenly it became "that time of month." Oh, joy. I was feeling really rotten one day, and Warren was giving me a hard time about resting in the middle of the 400-yard swim. Finally I just said, "I've got really bad cramps, OK?" and the entire aquatics staff--all guys--exploded with laughter at his expression.

On Thursday afternoon, we had to go to the lake--yes the leech- and giardia-filled one--and rescue someone from both a canoe and a rowboat (I praised God that we didn't have to get in the water). I learned my rowing skills leave much to be desired. However, I am quite good with a canoe paddle. There were two "victims" in the water--Warren and Scott, one of his staff. The girl doing the course with me looked at Warren and said, "We're not going to rescue you". So Warren, thinking he was going to have some fun with us girls, swam up to the side of the canoe where I was and grabbed it, trying to capsize it. I took that canoe paddle and whacked the water near his head. I have never seen anyone swim so fast in my entire life. Then, to prove what an idiot he was, he did it *again*. And so did I. He shot away a second time, laughing, "Never piss off a woman on PMS!" "Never piss off a woman PERIOD!" was my reply.

That evening, we took the exam. We all passed, but none of us got our certification papers, meaning we can't say we're certified lifeguards and (horror or horrors) can't get the patch. There are at least three people at camp who have volunteered to harrass Warren for them, one of whom is an adult leader and has threatened to "deal with him." Hee.

In spite of all of this, it was an incredible time. I got to see some folks I hadn't seen for a year, and I got to make some new friends, mostly guys. Sadly, that awoke the part of my ego that wants to be "noticed" by guys, and now requires suppressing. Sometimes I wish I weren't so opposed to having relationships.

But I digress. We did silly stuff like water balloon volleyball (which we were informed Cub Scouts did better than we did), put on a campfire for the staff, and taught line dancing. We shot pistols, went down a zipline, saw wilderness survival shelters, did CPR and first aid certification, and competed in a fun pentathalon of darts, badmiton, water volleyball, etc. They had a forge set up, so we got to make our own belt buckles and knives, which was awesome. We also learned how to silkscreen and made our own shirts.
And we all had an inordinate amount of fun picking on Chris, one of the staff guys (who thinks I'm scary and is slightly afraid of me--and he's like the third guy I know of that feels that way O_O).

Late the last night, I wore "Uncle Willie's duck hat," a hunting hat with a stuffed dog-toy-duck that quacks sewn to it, to the campfire. Another of the staff guys, Curtis, thought it was the silliest thing he'd ever seen and couldn't stop cracking up. Every time he tried, someone would quack the duck and send him into hysterics again. This continued for about an hour. Then we went inside to watch a DVD Chris put together about the camp. We watched for about three minutes before the video showed a duck swimming on the pond and Curtis collapsed laughing again.

No one wanted to leave Saturday morning. I've been invited to come to the Southwestern Rendezvous, a regional Sea Scout competition, at the end of November; been volunteered to be the assistant director of the equestrian program for Ranger Quest next year; and been told that the next time I'm seen, I had better darn well have earned my Quartermaster award (the Sea Scout equivalent of Eagle). It was such an awesome experience that I've decided to work summer camp at Emerson next year. So if anyone's near Idyllwild next summer and wants to come visit, you'll know where to find me. I'll be Scouting.

La"Yes, I'm nearly 20 and I still love summer camp!"Zorra