by Margie Lawrence
If you’ve never met someone who is “directionally challenged,” then let me introduce myself! Hello! Today, I’m known as ‘Margie Lawrence,’ but back in my Camp Huronda days, I was known as ‘Marg Bennett.’ I joined Huronda’s staff in its second year of operation. I was a camp counsellor and Drama Head in 1972 and ’73. Fran Bishop and Mary Priestman shared the Program Director role in 1972 while John Betts and Sue Lepage shared that role in 1973. The next year, Sue’s younger brother, Dan, and I shared that role. Then in 1975 and ’76, I went solo as Program Director.
I’m sharing these specific details with you because this story really wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for a young and aspiring camp counsellor and Trip Hut assistant, Dave Bolt, who REALLY WANTED to be Program Director. It was most likely during the summer of 1976 that Dave worked alongside Keith Anderson, assisting Keith with the Trip Hut program.
When you came to the Trip Hut, you learned the names of the trees and flowers like Devils’ Paintbrush and Queen Anne’s Lace, how to make tea from mint leaves, how to cook a meal over a campfire, how to tie knots, how to lash and construct a lean-to and pull a travois, how to pack a knapsack for a hiking adventure, how to heat rocks in a blazing fire for the camp’s sweat-lodge, and of course, how to sweat! For campers who were extra keen, there was the option to camp out for a night on the Ridge with another fellow camper. The Ridge was its own unique and magical place. To get there, one had to leave the camp, cross the main road and then follow a path uphill through the woods.
Dave Bolt was super keen. I think it was during the summer of 1976 that he told me how much he’d REALLY love to have a chance of being Program Director. So I began to wonder – perhaps Uncle Don (who was Huronda’s original and most awesome camp director) might allow me to trade portfolios with Dave for two weeks during C Camp… I explained how I could mentor Dave while he oversaw the program, and I’d take Dave’s place, assisting Keith at the Trip Hut. How hard could this be? When I approached Don with this idea, I was impressed that he was open and receptive to my plan.
So, that’s what we did. Dave eased into his new role overseeing the program, while I assisted Keith at the Trip Hut, learning the names of all of the flowers and trees, and, as well, encouraging enthusiastic campers to earn a badge by camping up on the Ridge for a night. Surprisingly, there were a handful of girls who began to express interest in partaking in these solo overnights!
All went well during this camp session. Dave thrived in his new role, while I quietly enjoyed being his mentor and working alongside Keith, who ultimately became a mentor for me in nature lore and tripping. I recall that during the last few days of camp, two female campers expressed their desire to camp out for a night on the Ridge. “Pleeeeze? We really want to do this!” I think they must have been around 12 or 13 years old. And they were relentless! The problem was, we only had two evenings left. Keith and I agreed that the best night for their overnight would be after Camp Show. Earlier in the day, the girls prepared their lean-to on the Ridge and had their knapsacks packed, ready to go. Right after Camp Show I would escort the girls up to their overnight camping location on the Ridge, help settle them in and then return back to camp.
Way back then, we had a couple of Camp Show traditions. One tradition included me and my good friend, Jill Harrison, doing a mime act. Following the practice of true mime artists, we always used white face makeup, eye liner and lipstick to highlight our facial expressions. We wore black leotard tops and bottoms, and our entire act was sketched out in pantomime. At each camp show, we created a different mime story.
When we finished Camp Show, it was time for me to take those two gals up to the Ridge so they could settle in for the night. The sooner we could get up to the Ridge, the better. I hastily rinsed off the white face paint and borrowed a flashlight from someone. I threw a pair of jeans over my mime costume. It was getting darker by the minute. Note to self: In the future, trips to the Ridge should be done in daylight!
I felt good though, because the girls had a bright flashlight, and they were really excited about getting their badges. I felt good about being able to give them this opportunity.
The two girls and I began our trek up the Ridge with gear in hand. That involved crossing over the main road and then following an uphill path through the woods. The girls had their sleeping bags and their knapsack of essentials for their adventure. We arrived at the top of the Ridge where the land levels out and found their campsite. The girls began to arrange their sleeping bags on top of their ground tarps under their lean-to. Great! It was a good thing it was a clear night. I was happy to see them settle in with enthusiasm and confidence. I made sure that they were feeling comfortable , but by then, night had really fallen.
Before I go any further with this story, let me share a little about where we actually were. To get to Camp Huronda, one needs to drive from Ravenscliffe Road in Huntsville and then along South Waseosa Lake Road for quite some time before getting to the camp’s entrance. The road makes a rather sharp right-hand turn near the camp’s entrance, and the Ridge is across the road, up there in the middle of two sides of South Waseosa Lake Road. Another thing to share is that cell phones didn’t exist in the 1970’s. If a staff member wanted to make a phone call to a loved one, they had to walk to the end of the camp’s driveway, where there was a friendly telephone booth waiting for your quarter!
So now I’m at the part of the story where I was feeling content that all’s well with my lovely two campers. They were fine. They were happy and ready to welcome slumber. Evening temperatures in late August can be quite cool but cozy if you’re all tucked in for the night. I reviewed with them what they were going to do when they woke up, and how I’d be looking forward to seeing them after breakfast. Perfect. I said, “Good night,” and began to make my way back to camp.
Here’s what I’ve discovered about being directionally challenged. When it’s dark, it’s REALLY easy to become disoriented. (Truth be known, it’s really easy to become disoriented even in daylight, especially when you’re in the woods)!
Instead of following the path downhill to South Waseosa Lake Road and then into the camp, I proceeded to walk downhill in another direction (which at the time, felt quite like the path the girls and I had originally taken less than an hour ago)! I also noticed that the flashlight I had borrowed was one of those flashlights that, once the batteries died, you simply threw the flashlight out. The light was becoming dimmer and dimmer. I was wondering why I hadn’t yet reached the road. “Hmmmm, where’s the path?” I asked myself. I heard in the distance the sound of a car driving along Waseosa Lake Road. I decided to walk in the direction of where I thought I heard the car, saying to myself, “once I’m on the road, all will be well”.
This was not a good move. The car was long gone. The road was nowhere to be found. Somewhere during that time, I had an “ah ha” moment, a recollection from one of my Humber College outdoor education classes, and that was this: If you think you’re lost in the woods, stay put – don’t travel deeper into the woods. Wait for your rescue party. And do what you need to do in order to survive.
So, now I was kicking into survival mode. I succumbed to the reality that I was here in these woods for the night. Stay put. The only thing about staying put, is that when I was walking downhill (to what I thought would be the road), I walked myself directly into to a rather marshy and damp piece of ground. “Am I in swamp land?” I wondered.
So, in the dark, with just a titch of light remaining in my flashlight, I began to break off the bows of some trees nearby (balsam, hemlock or cedar perhaps), laying them down on the ground in an area to serve as my evening mattress in hopes of staying dry. The kicker was, that around that time, my flashlight TOTALLY gave out on me, and while gathering more tree bows, I lost sight of where I had even laid the original bows that were to serve as my resting space! Double kicker.
I again returned to that little voice in my mind saying, “stay put.” I decided to place the bows I was holding at the base of a very large and sturdy tree. It was so darn dark. I couldn’t tell you what kind of a tree it was. This, however, is where I settled in for the entire night; sitting on my cedar-scented bows, leaning up against this tree. I wasn’t scared. I was more miffed with myself for being in this situation!
One nice thing about August temperatures – gone are the black flies and mosquitoes. August temperatures at night though can be chilly. That it was. I remember pulling my arms out of my long-sleeved mime top so that I could hug my body inside my top to stay warmer. Being a light sleeper to begin with, sleep did not come to me that night! I can’t remember what all of my thoughts were that evening, but I’m pretty sure that I sang the entire repertoire from Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” album, for those songs were permanently etched in my DNA. Singing probably helped to keep any wild beasts at bay (if there were any to speak of).
I also knew that no one would be missing me at camp. After the campers were put to bed, and Shirley the Night Nurse began her rounds, staff who were hungry would go to the staff lounge for their evening dose of peanut butter on white toast. Because I was a senior staff and lived at “The Inn-on-the-Park” cottage, any of my female colleagues who also slept there would retreat at their leisure after evening program and staff snack and wouldn’t think twice if someone wasn’t yet in their bed. Keith wouldn’t have worried about me either. He had no idea that I was directionally challenged! Neither did I, come to think of it.
I discovered it’s a long night when you’re not sleeping. Nevertheless, daylight eventually made its way into the forest. I wasn’t wearing a watch, but I welcomed whatever time it was. The morning temperature was crisp. Again, I began my search, finding my way back to camp. I still had no idea which direction I was going. I simply wanted to see a glimpse of that road! Somehow, I covered a lot of ground, going in a large circle through those woods. At one point, I came across the frame of what would have been a primitive home. It must have burnt down, for only the foundation was remaining and a few household remnants, scattered close by.
“This place,” I thought to myself, “will be awesome to hike back to on a “Subee Day!” (A Subee Day was a special half-day program where staff would choose uniquely fun and creative activities to lead, and the campers would sign up for whatever interested them).
Reality check – keep looking for Lake Waseosa Road! It was around this reality check time that I began to deliberate. Sometimes, before breakfast, if I had a buddy to swim with, I’d enjoy an early dip at camp. I remembered which direction the sun came up when I was in the water. I decided to walk through the woods in the direction where the early morning sun shone. Perhaps I’d then find my way to the lake – or the road. I’d be happy to find either. So, I followed the sun through the bush, and about an hour or two later, I found the road!
After getting my bearings on the road, I discovered that I was quite a way from camp. I was blown away when I saw the “Store Open” sign; this was a little store that staff might choose to walk to on a day off. I was definitely discombobulated! At least now, I knew where I was, and I’d only have to walk for about a half hour to get to the camp entrance. I can’t tell you how HAPPY I was to be on that road! Life was good.
It must have been around 7:30 am or so when I walked into camp. As I was passing by the dining hall, a staff member waved to me (I think she was most likely a camp counsellor who offered to help pour the juice that morning into the little dixie cups for our campers to have after they had their morning’s insulin dose) – and she said, “Hey Marg! Do you know where the orange juice is?” I can’t remember my exact response, but I’m sure I suggested something reasonable, for she contentedly went off to find the juice. I headed towards the Trip Hut, where Keith’s quarters were, to tell him about my evening’s adventure. I also wanted to make sure that it’d be okay if I skipped breakfast. Keith was amazingly supportive, so off I went to luxuriously lie down for an hour on my delicious camp cot bed in my most precious “Inn-on-the-Park” cabin.
No sooner had I laid down when I noticed Uncle Don sitting next to me with an empathetic and enthusiastic smile on his face! I shared my story, especially the part where I was excited for us to try to find that lost burned-down house in the forest, perhaps on a Subee Day for a picnic hike. (Cool enough, we did end up hiking to that location during another camp session with Uncle Don leading that adventure with compass in hand!)
The next day was the last day of ‘C’ Camp. That evening, we celebrated Banquet Night, with cake and ice cream for dessert. Campers received their ‘H’ awards. My two Trip Hut campers got their “Solo-ing on the Ridge” awards. And I got the coolest award too! Keith presented me with an artistically hand-drawn award on a round slice of wood. Sketched on one side of the award was a knot. It read, “The Stick-to-Tying-Knots-Next-Camp-Award.” Love, Keith xxxxoooo. The other side read, “Don’t Worry! Just a Joke. You did the Right Thing and You Should Feel a Sense of Accomplishment! Luv Ya! From Keifer.”
This story took place nearly 49 years ago! Keith’s award continues to keep my living room company, reminding me of magical times at Huronda, including my night spent on The Ridge. And thanks, Dave Bolt, for being Program Director for those two weeks back in 1976!
Editor’s Note:
To those who read this piece and fret
That being lost on the ridge could happen yet
Remember when this event occurred
GPS, cell phones and walkie talkies were all obscure!