The timbers

Some nights it was freezing, other nights the heat was so intense, I was inspired to take a late night swim. Some nights were spent on a squeaky cot others were spent on the hard ground. I was usually eaten alive in my sleep. Yet it was the best place I was ever aloud to sleep. As I lay in my cozy bed now, I miss those nights I laid buried in my sleeping bag avoiding mosquitoes, half freezing, staring at the stars. The long nights spent hearing the life stories of new friends, sharing our dreams and aspirations. Feeling like I could trust seven other people, I had only know for a couple of weeks with my life. I spent days waking up to the sound of the loons on the lake and made hot cocoa over a smokey fire made of soaking wet wood, Filtering water from the middle of a smelly slimy bog. I rememberThe feelings of ectasy felt as I stood on top the world staring over a sea of birch to the mighty lake that was out final destination. Then racing to the bottom of the mountain only to climb another one in pure joy. Than once I reached my temorary home for the night I swam in a water fall, only to sit around a campfire pouring salt on my leeches as the others did the same. As I reached the end of my journey I was consumed with feelings of accomplishments and at the same time sorrow. The sorrow came from leaving the wilderness behind but also the knowledge that I would soon need to leave these people behind. Not even just thoses seven but all the people at the wonderful place, we all shared the same passion for the outdoors the same lust for adventure. This summer I can not wait to return to lead the next generation of youth to a love and respect for the wilderness. I can only hope I can help them see what I saw in the wilderness so many years ago. I hope they will run for the treeline or the shore whenever they get the chance. I can not wait to finally be the person who inspired me to be so many of the things I am today.