The Week Past

Updating the blog has been difficult this past week because the new staff have arrived at camp. There has been an intensive period of training and a great deal of entertaining.

The students arrive at camp later today and I am currently in a bar using the internet. I am not sure when my next day off will be because the camp session lasts for 3 weeks, but I will try to update sometime soon.

Some of my highlights this week have been.

• standing 30ft away from a baby brown bear (outside a pub)
• going on a canoe trip accross the lake in darkenss (on the way back from the pub)
• seeing a bald eagle up close (on my way to a pub)
• going on a four hour canoe trip trhough the national forest (on the way to a pub)

There is other news to write about, and I have pictures to upload too, but all this will be documented and posted sometime next week because all these trips to the pub have been keeping me busy. 

bx

PS: Hi to Tyler, my new Italy based reader! :)

Living in a deserted summer camp

Every summer camp has a ghost story, and the one at my camp is ridiculous. The story involves a local woodcutter with one leg called Stumpy; this ghostly character chopped his own leg off in a fit of madness and now roams the forests looking for students to behead.

Every ghost story at a summer camp serves a purpose, and the one at my camp is brilliant. The Stumpy story stops students from wandering off into the forest alone, prevents them trying to run away and ensures that they travel in groups around camp.

When I walk through camp at night I rarely think of Stumpy, but I do think of the student who drowned in the lake in the 1950’s. His body was kept in the ice house for preservation and you can still read official school documents regarding his death. Members of staff have supposedly ‘seen’ the ghost of this boy around camp, but it is a story the students will never hear because it serves no purpose, we don’t need them to be afraid to swim.

For the last nine days I have been living in a deserted 200 acre summer camp with only the caretaker for company. It has actually been more fun than I expected, and I have had plenty of time to study. Despite this, my two most impressive thoughts today occurred outside of a university book. I was swimming across the lake this afternoon when I realized the following.

1.       I should not swim across the lake when the nearest person who can help is miles away and not aware of my location or activity.

2.       I should swim back to the beach, get dressed and make a video of the camp before the season begins. It will give you a break from reading my written words and stop me from nearly becoming a ghost story myself.

So here is my video below.

click: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVlrU9inJ5o

 bx

Aliens, Babes, Cowboys and Dave

“My daughter is just like Dave, she goes where the fun is, or she makes the fun herself”, remarked Ruth as we emptied rainwater from a rowing boat. I briefly looked up the beach towards Dave’s lodge but could not see him, so I carried on scooping out rain water and talking to his sister. I had just told her about the time Dave turned up at a bar driving a monster sized truck, and how he let me race it along the roads at 11pm at night.
Dave and his wife Brenda own a historic lodge which used to be a hideout for legendary Chicago gangsters. There are bullet holes in the walls from poker games gone bad and gun turrets to scare off unwanted visitors. Now Dave and Brenda operate the lodge as a hotel and there is no such thing as an unwanted visitor.

I was at the lodge to help prepare for the first guests of the season. I was supposed to be helping Dave move chairs from the lodge into his truck, but he had got sidetracked working on an invention in the basement with his brother. I could have remained with Dave, except his brother Charlie hunts aliens and Bigfoot; our initial conversation went like this.

Charlie: Have you ever woken up with strange markings on your body and you can’t recall where they came from?

Me: Err, no I don’t think so.

Charlie: So you have never felt that you have been taken somewhere else in your sleep?

Me: No, I can’t say I have.

Charlie: What about during the day at camp when you’re walking around? Do you ever feel that you are being watched?

Me: Nope.

After the first few questions I was fighting to stay composed. Jokes, sarcasm and laughter were all churning up inside me, so I removed myself from the situation to avoid causing offence.













Ruth and I in front of Barker Lake Lodge













The lakefront and boats

Both Dave and Brenda have backgrounds as mysterious as the gangsters that built their property. Nobody knows precise details regarding their previous occupations; nobody knows quite how they ended up in North Wisconsin and nobody knows where their money came from. In addition to the lodge, they have a beautiful house twenty minutes up the road. I sometimes wonder whether Dave and Brenda are direct descendants from gangsters themselves.














View of the lodge from the lake

By the time Ruth and I had scooped the water from the boats the sun had dissolved the clouds and the sky was bright blue. It was impossible to tell that a few hours earlier there had been torrential rain across the whole area. I mentioned this to Ruth, and she began talking about the British fixation with weather.
Eventually Dave emerged from the basement looking like a mad scientist crossed with a lumberjack. “Hey Ben, have you ever met a famous singing cowboy?” He shouted across the beach, “No, can’t say I have!” I shouted back, slightly bewildered. “Well Syd will be arriving soon, and he is going to be in a Hollywood movie next year”! I looked across the boat at Ruth and she looked as confused as I did.

Two hours later all the preparation for the lodge was complete and the whole family moved into one of the next door cabins. Two hours and thirty minutes later I met Syd Masters, singer, songwriter and cowboy.
As I approached Syd Masters I heard him say that “the only red meat I usually eat is stuff that I have shot myself”. He was talking to Brenda about cooking and the comment totally reinforced my stereotype of who I was about to meet. I expected ego, cowboy hat, horse and perhaps even a gun. Instead I met a thoroughly likable guy who has somehow been pulled into the bizarre world of Dave.
I don’t know exactly why Syd Masters knows Dave, but I could tell that they had not known each other long. When people talked to Syd about his career he replied that whilst he can make a living from his music he is only well known in small circles. Someone asked him if it is true that he will be in a Hollywood movie next year, he confirmed this rumor, but explained it was just a small role.

We all sat at a table in the sun drinking beer and watching fish jump in the lake. Brenda cooked us burgers and Dave decided we should go for a boat ride to watch the sunset and see the bald eagle. So that’s what we did.

Eagle in tree

Sunset

Me, Syd Masters, and Ruth















Dave getting in on the action

When we returned from the trip Brenda had started a bonfire and we all crowded round it. Soon more locals joined us who lived on the lake and I was happy to meet some of the older women who call themselves the Barker Lake Babes. They all remembered me when I first visited eight years ago and were soon asking about the camp.

Later that night I mentioned to Brenda that Dave was not drinking alcohol. She replied with her usual comic timing “That man does not need to drink! Drink only seems to inhibit the craziness”! Looking around the fire I had to agree, I was in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by talk of aliens, babes and cowboys.

 bx

All About Bob

Bob is the caretaker of the camp and the North Wisconsin version of crocodile Dundee. I first met Bob when I was nineteen years old and he did not talk to me or even seem to like me very much. The reason why Bob never talked to me was because I left the archery targets out on the range overnight and they were attacked by a bear. In my defense the archery targets are shaped like animals, in his defense he had already warned me not to leave them out.

Everyone has a favorite Bob story and mine involves him talking to me in a clearing by a forest. Midway through conversation he pulled out a ridiculous sized knife from his belt and held his other hand up to silence me. I immediately stopped talking and wondered what I had done to piss him off this time. Thankfully over the pounding of my heartbeat I heard twigs snapping in the forest and realized that this was what Bob had detected.

That’s right, in my first summer the prospect of a bear in a nearby forest was more appealing to me than annoying Bob.

So Bob vanished into the forest and left me standing there. Do I wait for him to return? Do I leave? Do I go get help? A few minutes later Bob returned and resumed talking as if nothing happened.

Times have changed and Bob and I are actually good friends now, which is good, because currently it is just the two of us at a very big camp. He has been cooking some incredible meals for me and introduced me to some local bars I never knew existed.

I could write more about Bob, but I have decided to let you judge a book by its cover. Or rather, I’m going to let you judge a man by how he decorates a lodge.

 

Imagine what the Christmas tree looks like… 

 bx

My First Morning at Camp

As I loaded the dead baby deer onto the back of the old blue pick-up-truck I began to fully accept that I was a long way from home. I needed to dump the body far enough away to not attract bears, so I drove the old truck round the circle then climbed up the hill and away from camp. Eventually I found a good spot, so parked the truck and launched the body unceremoniously into the forest.

This was how I spent the first ten minutes of my first morning at my camp. The deer had been killed by wolves nearby and found by the caretaker’s dogs, they were very proud of their discovery and dropped it outside my door.

My second order of business was to pick up my bottle of bear pepper mace from the camp caretaker and go for a run.

And the bear mace bottle contains this useful information.

‘WARNING: Do not seek out encounters with bears. This product is a bear attack deterrent which may protect users in some unexpected confrontations with bears but may not be effective in all situations. Product should be discharged as the attacking bear is charging toward you and is about forty feet away (2-3 seconds from reaching you).’

OK then.

I am not about to go seeking confrontations with bears, but I do question whether I would faint before discharging pepper spray at a charging creature intent on ripping my throat out. Apparently there is a trick to surviving a bear attack, firstly you try to make loud noise and be physically imposing, waving your shirt over your head to make yourself seem bigger etc. If that does not work, and the bear charges you anyway, you have to curl into a small ball, covering your neck with your hands and keeping your forearms at your sides to protect important organs.

I don’t intend on finding out if the pepper spray or the curl into a ball technique works. I am expecting the flexibility of my neck to improve considerably if I keep glancing behind me as often as I did today.

I got back from my run and later that day Bob the caretaker approached me. “The dogs found that baby deer you got rid of again”.

I would ask Bob to get rid of it this time, but he would probably eat it.

bx

P.S. I never did get that bible camp T-shirt.

Not from around these parts

If you want to open a bar in North Wisconsin then here are some things you should know.

1)      Your bar should have a minimum of one dead animal hanging off the wall. Common favorites are fish, deer, elk, bear, fox, squirrel or porcupine.

2)      The color theme of the bar will be brown.

3)      You must have at least five varied neon light signs advertising Budweiser or other such beverages.

4)      The television in the corner of the bar should ideally show hunting shows or sports.

5)      There must be a jukebox and all music should be country western. Themes can vary but usually revolve around loving or losing a girlfriend, truck, or dog.  

6)      Frogs legs can be an item on the menu if you wish.

Over the past few days I have been making regular nightly visits to the bars of North Wisconsin. I am still at bible camp and I am still working hard, but now I have met up with Tony who is the director of the comparatively unbiblical camp where I am employed.

If you are not a local in a bar then you will be stared at throughout the evening and approached by a wide range of colorful characters. Opening lines usually start with a slightly menacing “You aint from around these paaarts arrre ya”? If you have ever seen the film called Deliverance then it is at this point that the banjo music begins to play in the back of your mind.

The first man we met had just got out of jail, he chatted about his love of fishing and he knew of the town in Indiana where Tony grew up. The newly released prisoner seemed to be unemployed, so I asked if he got work taking tourists out on fishing trips. “I aiiint no tooouriiist” came the shocked reply.

For some reason being English in a North Wisconsin bar gives me license to say whatever I want to whoever I want, providing I start the sentence with “Hi, I’m from England, I just wanted to ask you…” I used this tactic to find out why a blonde girl and guy were wearing matching yellow T-shirts that said ‘Divorced and Swingin’, on the back. It turned out that they were part of a local divorcee volleyball team. It also turned out that the girl liked an English accent, because she soon joined Tony and me at the bar.

Then there was the daughter-in-law of the local mayor. She started chatting and telling us about how her husband had petitioned for divorce. She explained this story whilst holding hands with a man I later established was her husband’s brother. If this was not confusing enough, the same lady also started hitting on Tony, naming him ‘the little tan man’.

We circulated from bar to bar (they were all right next to each other) and found toothless locals, flirty bar girls and outrageous drunks with enough character to fill a novel. At one bar we sat watching the hunting channel on television, as a deer slowly expired from a crossbow wound I remarked to the bargirl that the film they had on seemed to have a very sad ending.

“This is mah favorite channel”, she replied, fairly directly

“Hi, I’m from England, do you like hunting?” I backtracked

“yeea!” Aaave been huntin since ah was twelve years old”!

I later discovered the small blonde bargirl liked to eat bear and enjoys shooting deer the most.

And when Tony and I were the last ones left in the bar we decided that it was time to leave. We had to walk 2.5 miles to get back to camp  but less than ten minutes into our journey a pickup truck pulled up alongside us “you guys want a lift back to the bible camp? We live right next door”, it was the owners from one of the bars.

So we climbed drunkenly into the truck and talked to the couple with Harley Davidson tattoos about where we were from and what we were doing at the bible camp. “I need to be clear that we are not employed by the bible camp” Tony stated as we approached the entrance. “Don’t worry hunny, we’ve heard it all before”, replied the wife.