JUNE 5TH, 2015
It was a more mild day for June, with a cool breeze brushing across the landscape. The sun was out in the open, without the shrouds of the clouds to break up it's visage. It's a shame that this is one of the more rare days that Camp Wachata has. While one can expect sunny days rather often at Camp, the breeze and cloudless sky was definitely rare. Most days, nowadays, seemed to be either rainy, foggy, or a combination of both. That didn't stop the campgrounds from enjoying those days just as much, however.
The buses, cars, and taxis were dropping off a steady supply of campers, and counselors, already. It was nearly 10 a.m. and most of the camp had apparently showed up. The long drive that was taken to reach Camp Wachata drove home the feeling of isolation. Civilization would be much farther away than a hop, skip, and a jump. The new campers and new counselors, with help from the campers and counselors whom have been here before, were expected to pick their own cabins, and bed, meet new friends, and get situated at Wachata. It wouldn't be until nightfall, that the entire camp would meet at the Wiki Wiki Fire Ring that the Campmaster would welcome this year's newcomers. Weather cooperating, there would even be a bonfire tonight.
Banners hung on The Canteen building, where the parking lot was for the campers and counselors who were dropped off, that read 'WELCOME TO CAMP WACHATA!'. While the landscape of the Camp itself seemed welcoming, it was obvious that most of the official staff, not counting the counselors, weren't as welcoming. For those that had been here before, this was a common sight. Most of the time, activities and day-to-day was to be handled by the counselors. The Campmaster and staff only showed up to organize activities rarely, giving the camp a very hands-off feel. It seemed, though, that this was how most of the camp preferred it. The corps of counselors were shown to be more than capable to organize events, with plenty of veterans whom had spent more than a few years at Wachata.
Despite the less than welcoming atmosphere, it seemed the arrivals weren't deterred. Old friends reuniting, new people apprehensive of the Camp, returning people helping the new arrivals, and some campers and counselors who simply filed away towards the cabins to get an early pick. Camp Wachata was definitely a buzz with all the activity that now permeated it.
Hopefully, this excitement wouldn't die in the following weeks of Camp Wachata's summer camp.
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Shayne Kowalski
With more than a little caution, Shayne reluctantly stepped off the bus that had carried her and a few other campers. Shayne had made a point to stick to herself, and stay away from the other campers that arrived on the bus. Now, it seemed, she'd have no choice but to interact with others. The campground was filled with the arriving campers and counselors. Somewhere, Shayne had heard that about 120 people came this year, practically a full camp.
Luckily, the sheepish tomboy had gotten a map. It was the typical Summer Camp map, cartoonized locations along with a big watermark that ready 'CAMP WACHATA!". Scoffing to herself, Shayne filed a little onto the bustling campground. This was all new to Shayne. She was used to not being shy, or afraid of interaction with others. Although, she was literally surrounded by over 100 people she had never met before, it was understandable she'd feel this way. Once Shayne could settle, the feeling of being overwhelmed would leave her, and she'd be able to interact with others. Hopefully.
Pulling her ball cap farther down on her head, she took a few steps tentatively around The Canteen. Some campers were already playing around at the basketball court, and others were chatting at picnic tables. Doing her best to not look the odd thumb out, Shayne glanced around the beautiful Camp, hoping to find the trail that led to the girl's cabins. Sure enough, there was a small procession of a few different girls heading on a trail that went around the lake. Glancing down at the map, Shayne could tell that they were headed there.
Something kept Shayne from following the girls, however. Was it a need to introduce herself to someone? Was it a want for human interaction with people her own age, something which she hadn't had for weeks? Or was it an intense desire to meet everyone at once and get the awkwardness and feeling of being overwhelmed out of the way? Whatever the feeling was, it kept Shayne stuck to the ground where she was at, looking gormless as she glanced around the fleet of arrivals.
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Caleb Holderson
Like last year, Caleb had arrived a day early, along with a few of the other veteran counselors. They had spent the previous day cleaning up, making sure everything was in standing order, and even having a small party on the edge of the lake. Now, Caleb stood solemnly by The Canteen, watching the arrivals come en masse. Caleb was content to hang back, and only help out any stragglers that were left over after the big surge of campers.
Normally, Caleb would be more eager to find people who needed help. Last night stopped any chance of that. While Caleb was his normal quiet, and calm, self, he had drank a little too much. One of the counselors, a 25 year old that goes by Riley, had smuggled enough beer to last more than a few parties. Where the beer was at now, Caleb had no idea. All he knew was, that despite him and the few others, they likely hadn't even put a dent into stockpile. It was easy enough to say that Caleb had no intention of indulging like that, again. At least, for a few days.
Caleb adjusted the straps of his backpack, pulling the strings tighter. Fidgeting. He had already claimed a bunk in Cabin #1 at the boy's cabins, leaving him with little to do but to watch the incoming campers. Slightly leaning against the outside wall of The Canteen, Caleb pulled out his cell phone. No service. Like always. Camp Wachata was behind the times in the sense of communications. The Lodge had the only working telephones, and those were as old as the Camp itself. Caleb remembered how he had spent his first year here, and had hiked to one of the summits of Lookout Mountain, trying to get service. It didn't work. Nearly cracking a smile to himself, Caleb wondered how the newcomers would deal with this. The lack of reception isn't stated in the brochures. Last year, it hadn't taken very long before a few campers were already at The Lodge, calling their parents and guardians to come pick them up.
Putting his nearly useless cellphone away, Caleb turned his attention back to the flow of campers. As diverse, and colorful, as any group of people, Caleb had a welling sense of excitement growing in his chest. Maybe instead of planning basket ball tournaments, teaching people how to fish and tie knots, he'd be able to do something a little less monotonous.
