The many facets of the Montanan skyline are jetting, jagged and raw. There are things and people and surroundings that you never thought even possible. As time passes slowly there is an effervescence that seems to blanket the landscape. The people are hardworking and just, they’re frontiersmen and they’re strong willed women. They’re the start of a new generation and a generation that’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect their land. There are some that will do anything to turn the land they call home into countless dollars.
As you drive into the endless canyons and crevasses and jutting rocks, you never really see the end of the skyline and you start to realize why they call it “Big Sky Country”. There are fields of green and brown, cows and buffalo that graze tirelessly, farmers hoping for one more day of rain.
As Big Oil has started to move in, you start to notice the strife of what used to be. There are people who rely on that money and there are people who will do everything in their power to protect themselves from these blood-sucking companies.
There are days where you seldom see more than 10 people and there are days when you see more people than you can count to. It’s an ebbing and flowing conglomerate of degenerates, natives, workers, families and farmers. As the constant tide of change rolls in, few are readily accepting.
Time is indifferent here, the passing of the seasons, the moon skimming the stars and the ever so sharp tick of the clock as each second passes is like something out of a movie, time is sluggish and lazy. Everything you do is in slow motion from waking up in the morning to the car ride to work. Time just moves slower here, no one knows why.
This glorious state has so much to offer and so many secrets to keep.
A/N: Within this post are affiliate links to products I believe in and actually use.
Camp is one of those places where you feel at home, where an adventure is steps away and where a smile never really leaves your face.
Being a camp counselor is the best job you’ll ever have. Hands down.
There’s something about waking up in the morning and loving what you do. In every sense of the word. There’s something about being surrounded by kids who look up to you unabashedly and that think you’re the coolest person they’ve ever met.
There’s something about swimming and laughing and playing and creating and making and loving and jumping and running and dancing and laughing some more.
I work at a camp in Maine and you can read about that here. But, I have to admit that I was completely lost when I found out I had gotten the job. What do they wear? What should I expect? Do we decorate our own cabins? There were so many questions that wouldn’t be answered until I got to camp, but I figured I’d write about my packing list to make it a bit easier for everyone.
The camp I work at employs us from mid June until the beginning of September so I need to pack enough to last me 2 months, barring small shopping trips. Since I’ll be flying up, I’m limited as to what luggage I can bring. I will be bringing a backpack for my carry-on and 2 suitcases as my checked bags.
My backpack is a Thule Enroute Backpack.
- My Phone with charger
- Wallet with necessary ID’s, check with your Program Director as to what you’ll need for paperwork
- Extra pair of clothes and swimsuit, just in case
- Books for downtime, I suggest “A House In The Sky” and “All The Light We Cannot See“
- My Macbook
- Pressure Reducing Earplugs – I have terrible ear pain on flights
As for my suitcase, I have the tried and true Samsonite luggage. It’s the perfect size, it’s durable and it’s been to 10 countries with me.
If you’re more interested in just bringing one large backpack worth of stuff, I have a great High Sierra Appalachain 75L that holds everything that I need, barring linens. Your camp might specify that they provide linens, so just ask!
When it comes to clothes, comfort takes precedence over everything. You will be running, dancing and composing absolute tom-foolery, so looking good kind of goes out of the window. Think about what you wear to work out in when no one is looking, now think a little grungier and you’re pretty much there.
My luggage packing list goes a little like this:
- 6 T-Shirts
- 5 Running Shorts
- 5 Yoga Pants for sleeping, exercising, etc.
- 3 Crazy patterned leggings-look here for some ideas
- 5 Tank Tops- make sure to find out if there’s a dress code regarding tank top strap thickness
- 1 Rain Coat
- 1 Pair Rain Boots
- 2 Pairs of Tennis Shoes
- 2 Pairs of Flip Flops
- Shower Shoes (an old pair of flip flops work perfectly)
- Undergarments, enough for at least 2 weeks
- Socks (mixed thickness, it can be really hot and pretty cold)
- Sweatshirts-it can get down to 50 degrees at night in Maine
- Ben’s Bug Wipes-so much easier than a spray
On to toiletries. Keep in mind that you may or may not have access to shopping during the summer so make sure you know how much of each you should pack. At my camp, there’s a Walmart about 10 minutes away so a few people don’t pack any toiletries and just buy them all when they get there. Up to you.
- DEODORANT, you may or may not shower for 4 days at a time
- Room Spray becomes a necessity especially in the boy’s cabins
- An abundance of hair ties
- Shampoo/Conditioner- there are some really great biodegradable ones if you will be bathing in lakes or rivers
For your cabin, find out what the living conditions will be like. Typically, we stay in a cabin with 3-10 campers depending on age and we have a dresser and a bed to ourselves. While my camp provides bedding, especially for International counselors, I prefer to bring a few things of my own. Most counselors bring their own pictures and decorations from home to showcase who they are and their interests. Contact counselors that have worked there before to get a lay of the land! I will be bringing:
- 1 Comforter
- 1 Sheet Set
- 2 Pillows
- 2 Tapestries
- Pictures From Home-it’s always a nice reminder
- 2 Strands of Christmas Lights-it definitely helps if you have really young campers who might still be afraid of the dark or for “flashlight time”
Obviously each camp is different and depending on where you’re located will adjust what kind of clothes you’ll be wearing but this is just a basic guideline for those embarking on counselor-ing for the first time.
Enjoy your summer!
There’s an old saying that goes something like;
Find what you love to do and you’ll never work another day in your life.
This past summer, I did just that. Hopelessly lost one day in January, I was on Facebook dreaming of all the things that I wanted to do this year, all the things I wanted to accomplish. I saw an ad that, for some reason, stuck out to me. It read “Change Your Life This Summer Working With Kids” and had this picture of a counselor smiling and a camper smiling even harder. I made a mental note of it, but didn’t act on it, after all, I was too busy dreaming.
Two days later, the same ad popped up. I decided to check it out. You know how God sometimes opens up doors for us that we didn’t even know were there? This door was a camp called Kingsley Pines in Raymond, Maine and God seemed to have flung open 20 doors at once.
I applied, was accepted after an extensive interview process and made travel plans to start working in June. I was to be teaching Ceramics and Pottery and as the time to leave grew closer and closer, I realized that I physically could not wait. I researched articles on how to be a good camp counselor, I brainstormed ideas for games and I daily checked out pictures of KP. The calm waters and the pine trees and the distant mountains seemed to be calling for me.
I packed, repacked and reached out to at least 6 counselors on what to pack. I felt like I was in such new territory. I had been to camp as a kid but I couldn’t remember what to bring, I couldn’t remember what I wore and as I was to stay there the entire summer, I didn’t know what to expect.
But the day finally came where I took everything I had fit into two suitcases and a backpack and headed towards my new home.
I was greeted at the airport by a guy holding up a sign that read “Welcome to KP Stephanee” and it had a (very well drawn) buffalo. This struck me, I remember. I was born in Montana and there are buffalo everywhere, just roaming and free. Montana is my place to gain clarity, to see things wholly again and having a buffalo seemed to be a sign that this was where I was meant to be and I just remember smiling so hard that it hurt.
I was here. It was beginning.
We picked up another girl who was a newbie just like me and we could barely contain our excitement in the backseat of that van. As a 23 year old woman, I have never been more giddy. It was like we were the kids on our way to camp.
We talked about our goals for the summer, how we were both searching for something, anything to give us direction. Both of us had reached a point in our lives where we lacked not a purpose, but a passion. We had high hopes that this place would be the answer to that dilemma.
As the van pulled onto that gravel drive and we drove past the greenest grass and the thick woods blending and swirling into this beautiful landscape; it was like an oasis for the weary, a jolt to the heart of everyone who felt lost.
That first day, no, that first week was a blur. We were in and out of meetings and orientations and trying to sleep whenever possible.
The day came when our first campers came, and I honestly don’t know who was more excited; the campers or the counselors. I was assigned to Hatcase with 7 girls who were all 13. At first, I was intimidated. That’s a whole lot of early teenage girls but the second they arrived, all of my worries were dispelled. They were goofy, charming, sweet, and even more goofy.
They were at this age where looks and what everyone else thinks are starting to matter but they’re not quite ready to let go of their childhood and they recklessly abandoned their worries. It was 3 weeks of laughing and giggling and dance offs while cleaning the cabin and absolute tom-foolery. They were my nuggets.
Some memories will always stay with me and others add to the memory of camp as a whole. One memory in particular sticks out about this session. The cabin, as a whole, has to come up with a way every morning to show unity within the cabin and we seemed to be running late that morning (no surprise there…) and I was in charge of cleaning the shower. When I came back out, there were all 7 of my girls sitting on the floor in a circle writing things about each other that they appreciated.
They had, on their own, created an idea together and had governed themselves to do this act of writing out how they felt. And not just “You’re really nice” or “You clean good”…they were things like “The way you try new things at camp makes me want to try new things too” or “I really like having you in my cabin because you’re my best friend”. It’s amazing what a few words strung together can do for a teenage girl’s self esteem.
I honestly have to say my favorite thing about Session 1 and Hatcase was the absolute gut-wrenching laughter that happened every day. Whether it was laughing at the girls being silly, laughing with the girls at a camp fire skit or laughing at myself, it brings a smile even thinking about it.
Opening Day was always hectic for me. It’s moving 200+ kids into cabins scattered all over. It’s lugging trunks and suitcases and bags. It’s airport runs, It’s integrating campers into their new environment and affirming parents. It’s teaching and learning and absorbing. It’s a beautiful chaos that runs effortlessly well.
This Opening Day was no exception, I had come back from an airport run of picking up 8 campers in Portland and I learned that I would be with the OGC that session. I was excited, scared, nervous, and thrilled all at the same time. The OGC is the Older Girl’s Circle and it’s for the campers that are 14-16 years old. I would be in Androscoggin and I loved that little cabin, I think the most of any I stayed in.
I would have 3 campers staying with me and 3 that would reside in the one next to it. I had the oldest of the older girls. They were bright, they were smart, they were gracious, they were beautiful, truly, inside and out. They had these big ideas and a tenacious love for life.
The wonderful thing about Older Girls is you don’t need to keep track of 6 different schedules because they know where to go and when to be there. You don’t have to constantly check up on them because they’re little mini-adults and they want to figure out how camp works on their own. I learned that the more you stepped back and let them thrive, the more they wanted to flourish. My co-counselor and I often to referred to this group and our time together as “3 weeks of bliss”.
Every night you would close out the evening with Embers, which was a time for reflection on your day and things you wanted to accomplish in the future. The articulate and graceful talks we would have during Embers took me aback. Here were these 6 teenage girls, 2 of which spoke Spanish and 1 who spoke French, revealing their goals and insights on the world. I often went back to the counselor whom I shared the ride with that first day and we marveled at how much we were changing because of these kids, how much we were growing and learning thanks to these campers.
This session’s favorite memory was a night spent on the beach. I decided to do a star-gazing Embers and I had each girl pick a song that was near and dear to their heart that we would play and they would get to talk about why the song meant so much to them. When we got down to the beach, all bundled up in sleeping bags and blankets and sweatshirts, we looked up to see the crispest night sky. The stars looked like they were shimmering in the sky and on the lake and there wasn’t a cloud in sight.
Since KP is far away from any big cities, there’s no light pollution and the night skies are breathtaking. That night we talked about everything we could think of, showcased our hidden talents, giggled about the going-ons of camp life and every now and then, the entire group would fall silent just to marvel at the sky.
Everyone was starting to become aware that camp was ending soon and this being the last session of campers, we all wanted to make the most of the time we had left. I was again placed in the OGC and was so grateful; I had found my niche. I was in the cabin trio of Brandy-Nubble-Crystal and resided in Nubble. I had 3 quirky, fun and awesome girls. We had this tradition of saying one thing that you liked about someone else in the cabin before bed. It honestly made my heart swell each and every night.
Here are 3 teenage girls who know little to nothing about each other but every night they consistently found something about their bunkmate to compliment. With this particular group of girls I never knew what to expect. The compliments towards me ranged from, “You’re the chillest, most swaggiest counselor that works here” to “I honestly want to grow up to be like you.”
My two co-counselors and I this particular session decided we wanted to do everything in our power to knock things off the girls’ bucket lists. Since we had 9 girls, this was no small task. Our first Embers, we came up with a Cabin Contract and a Bucket List. The Bucket List was at least 15 items long with things ranging from; star gazing to climbing a mountain at sunrise.
But, we did it. We did it all. We star-gazed the last night of camp in the middle of the common field, all squeezing on a much too small blanket. We climbed Rattlesnake Mountain before dawn to catch the sunrise, or the “Sun Ball” as the girls called it. We built a human pyramid on Quaker Ridge and may or may not have stolen snacks from a certain camp photographer.
The greatest thing about this group of girls,though, was there were no two that were even remotely similar. You could not have picked 9 more different teenagers. But as the two weeks drew to a close, we realized that their differences made them a stronger unit. They were helping each other and joking about how diverse they were. They were making each other friendship bracelets and talking about past camp memories.
The one memory that resides with me the most from this group was an Embers we did on one of the last days of camp. We got a huge assortment of beads and each girl picked out a bead for every other girl. We then went around the circle and told the girl why we had picked that particular bead for them. Although it was a small gesture by each person, when you have a bracelet full of beads with stories behind them, it amounts to so much more. I still wear mine around my ankle and I received a snapchat from one of my campers and she was still wearing hers. It made my day.
Teaching Ceramics was like a dream. Every day I woke up and walked to this shack that was lined with handprints and names written in clay. Where the sound of the pottery wheels drowned out the noise of the radio. It was this place tucked away into the woods where campers could build anything they could think of. They could build pots and bowls and cups and animals and plaques.
Some of the funniest and most honest conversations I had with campers happened in the Ceramics Shack. We taught 3 periods that lasted 50 minutes long and each one seemed to be like a party. We had music and dancing and we were creating these works of art.
I loved literally every second of it.
I can’t put into words what this past summer meant to me. There are too many memories, too many people to thank, too many smiles and laughs, too much fun, too many moments that took my breath away. It all adds up to this beautiful, chaotic, wonderful and sometimes crazy thing we call camp.
Related: What To Pack: Camp Counselor Edition
This out of the way, middle of nowhere gem is one of the places you literally stumble upon and then you wonder how the hell to get out.
If you’ve ever seen The Spongebob Squarepants Movie, it looks exactly like the shop where they go to die. With fish and shells and sponges in every size, shape and color imaginable. It’s a quaint little street with restaurants and gift shops and it’s bordered by fishing boats that have been there for generations.
It’s obvious it’s inhabitants are proud of where they come from, and they’ll tell you everything there is to know about what they do and how they do it. And it’s oh so fascinating.
There’s an air about these streets. It’s like being in a coastal town in 1950’s Greece. The old men are sitting on the benches puffing away on whatever is in their mouth and making gestures towards anyone whom walks by. The women are huddled, talking, while simultaneously getting chores done.
Tourists walk about but no one seems to be in any kind of hurry. There’s a saltiness to the air. The shop’s bells all ring in chorus and the conversations of those who walk past create this harmonious symphony.
You could easily spend a whole day here even though it’s only 4 blocks long and all the shops seem to be carrying the same things. But there’s something about it. Something wonderful.
Alaska will always hold a special place in my heart. It was the last vacation my family went on before life became extraordinarily hectic. It was the majestic scenery that I needed in my life in order to realize that I could attain all of my goals. It was the breath of fresh air that my body needed and it was the place that completely shifted my focus.
There was one part in particular that took my breath away. Kenai Fjords National Park.
We took a boat ride set up through the Alaska Railroad that departed pretty early in the morning and lasted a half day. It wasn’t enough time, I could have easily spent a lifetime in those waters.
Time seemed to be nonexistent; the lazy waves idly crashing against ageless glaciers, the rocks so smooth from decades of movement. It was surreal.
Kenai Fjords National Park is place that makes you feel micro on such a macro scale. Not in the “I’m insignificant” way but rather the “world has so much to offer and I could have the opportunity to see it all” way.
The way that the Grand Canyon makes you feel like there’s something so much bigger than all of us. The way that mountains make you a little weak in the knees just realizing their power and prowess.
That place is one of the only places on earth that I’d like to see every day. Like an old friend, I could see myself sitting with the glaciers and occupying such a small amount of space but I know I’d feel right at home. I’d feel safe surrounded by gaping crevasses and jutting ice, like the earth itself is opening it’s doors to you; like it’s saying, “Look what I have to offer. This is me, raw and unpolished.”
My best friend and I were recently talking about how tangible pictures have become so uncommon. So uncommon, in fact, that I have known her 5 years and neither of us has a “real” picture of the two of us. But in my room, I have 3 pictures that I hold dear to me.
One is of my sister and I on that boat ride. We’re sitting at the front of the boat with the glacial water splicing on either side of us. The snow capped peaks of the mountains are behind us and our hair is in every which direction. We have these genuine smiles that only seem to come when we’re traveling together. It’s one of my favorite pictures of all time.
The other two are of my whole family; big jackets and hats and all goofily smiling and close. A closeness that can’t be easily replicated and I love those pictures both dearly.
There’s a point in the boat tour where you’re taken to the Aialik Glacier. It’s size is easily confused because you’re required to stay back at least a half mile from the glacier itself. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see it calve.
We did. And I can’t put into words the thunderous, roaring, splicing noise that it makes. It starts with a crack, more sharp than thunder, and it generates this low rumble. You can see it falling before the sounds reach you so you know what’s coming next. The rumble turns into a grating, and the grating turns into the sound of water ripping as it makes way for this ice sheet within it’s depths. It’s awe-inspiring.
I went to many places within Alaska but my favorite was by far Kenai. It will always, always hold a special place within my heart.
My true passion in life has always been traveling.
It doesn’t matter how small or large. A midnight roadtrip to see snow, a transatlantic to the Emerald Isle, an empty flight to see Mayan ruins.
I’ve always had this intense feeling of wanderlust that I usually can’t put into words. It’s this pushing feeling against my chest screaming in the smallest voice, “Go. Be. Do.” At times this voice is a faint whisper and at times, like tonight, it’s this roaring and deafening battle cry. It’s my calling, truly and literally.
As I’ve said in previous posts, I’m only truly happy when I’m away. I’m constantly fighting the piece of me that feels like it’s too small for Florida. I sit in classrooms that teach me history of ancient lands and I’m chomping at the bit. I sit at tables and listen to stories of others who have gotten lost and I’m intrigued beyond recognition.
I’ve made plans as of late to fuel my fire.
I’m just recently went to Costa Rica with one of the girls I met in Belize. We were in the cloud forest, surrounded by volcanoes and jungle. It was paradise.
Also, my lead professor has offered me a spot on this year’s Belize trip again. And I’m seriously thinking of taking it. I’ve never pushed myself further out of my comfort zone than I did on that trip. God only knows how much more potential I can actualize while there a second time.
I know that I’m blessed for these opportunities. I know and I’m grateful.
I also know that if I don’t take these opportunities, someone else will. Someone else will get to to experience the passion and fervor and all consuming love I have for the world that we live in. And to be honest, that doesn’t really fly with me. I live for that feeling and I plan on taking it with me wherever I go.
People have told me that it’s too much.
People have said that I’m too lucky, I need to stay grounded.
People have whispered that I had too much fun for one lifetime, time to take a break.
To those people;
It’s not too much. I’m exploring the world I was placed in. There are millions and millions of things and people and sights to be gazed upon. I plan on doing so.
I can’t be grounded. I was born to fly. I’ve always been a dreamer, sometimes too much of one. But my parents raised me right, they gave me the best gift of all; creativity, imagination, love, passion and drive. They pushed me out of the nest. They knew I could fly. And for that I can’t disappoint them.
And for those who said I had too much fun. Is there really such a thing? Imagine for a moment the happiest you’ve ever been. Emulsify that into a tangible object. Would you put that object on a shelf because it was good enough? Would you let it sit there and collect dust? I wouldn’t. If I’ve had “too much fun”, then there’s much more fun to be had.
I was in a relationship for years that stifled me. It sucked me dry. I lost my lust for life.
He hated to travel. He hated when I brought it up. He hated when I went on trips. And slowly, very slowly, I started hating myself.
Then one day, I broke free.
I can’t look back to that. I can’t be that girl who depended on someone else for my self worth. Because I’m better than that.
This world is far too grand and great to not be appreciated. That’s what I’m here for.