Daytripping Summer 2023

On a gloomy day... I close my eyes.
At camp
Immediately, I am at camp again.
On the banks of the Ottawa River on a
wooded, 40-hectare haven. Living with
five other girls my age—early teens—
in a bell tent. Girl Guide members, we
have bonded during the school year.
Now we live together for a few weeks
each summer at Camp Woolsey. Away
from parents, home, and related
responsibilities. Pure bliss.
This particular year, in a lucky twist
of fate, we five have landed positions
on Woolsey’s waterfront staff. Our jobs
bring prestige, privilege—meaning we
don’t have to peel mountains of potatoes
or wash dishes in the Mess Hall. Such
duties are relegated to mere campers.
Lessons in life
However, no matter inclement
weather or cold grey river water or black
flies, our job is to teach swimming,
canoeing, and water safety to campers.
All day. Every day.
Gunwale bobbing* on canoes was our
popular time-off pastime. Today, this
game we played astride the gunwales/
sides of a canoe, is outlawed. Too
dangerous. Liability insurance is now
necessary.
And yet, gunwale bobbing gave us
the opportunity to take chances, to learn
how to balance, to fall into the water
and get up again. Valuable life lessons.
Night adventure
In the evening, after campfire songs
like Land of the Silver Birch, Fire’s
Burning, and Taps (Day is Done, Gone the
Sun...), we were expected to tumble into
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Yesterday
By Heather Rath, Burlington
our tents and sleeping bags, (flash)lights
out, and sleep.
Except we waterfront girls never
followed protocol. After leaders finished
their ‘bedcheck,’ we crept out of our tent
and raced onto the path immediately
behind our site. Circulating rumours of
a boys’ camp not far away had piqued
our interest.
We decided to raid it.
Unfortunately, traipsing along a
woodland path in the dark proved
difficult. Especially when unidentifiable
bush noises alerted suspicious leaders
that not all was normal. Also, our no
flashlight rule to avoid detection was a
liability.
Despite our precautions, our
deviously responsible leaders came
looking. We dove into nearby shrubbery
to escape discovery. When we thought it
safe, once they paraded past our hiding
spot, we ran for cover back into our
tent. All this action in darkness.
The next morning, we awoke to terrible
rashes covering our bodies. Rashes that
itched and oozed with scratchy sores.
Seems, in our haste to hide, we had
chosen a patch of poison ivy.
To this day, I swear we saw smirks on
our leaders’ faces.
Retaliation
Of course, we must retaliate.
Anonymously. We hope.
There were no modern bathroom
facilities at camp. But there were
those old-fashioned outhouses (with
carved half-moons in the door of a
small wooden latrine) set apart due to
unsavoury odours, from the campsite.
One was designated for campers. The
other outhouse, placed farther away
and delicately surrounded by greenery,
belonged to camp leaders.
Cleaning these latrines and
throwing lye crystals on the odious
contents plopped below the hole were
tantamount to hell.
While some kept vigilant watch,
the rest of us took on the smelly job of
exacting our revenge. We opened the
leaders’ latrine door, lifted the toilet seat,
secured saran wrap across the ‘hole,’
replaced the toilet seat, left the little
wooden building and immediately hid in
the surrounding shrubbery, ignoring the
swarms of eternal buzzing insects.
Didn’t take long before a leader
needed to answer the call of nature. She
ambled along the path to the executive
latrine.
Stifling giggles, we watched her step
inside. Lock the door.
We heard her screams. Immediately
fled the scene. Tried hard to silence loud
snickers.
Yesterday
But all this innocent tomfoolery was
yesterday. Now I must return to today
and the current sad state of our besieged
world. Besides, it’s almost time for
dinner. What can I possibly prepare that
isn’t too expensive and that all three kids
and their father will eat?
* A trick called “gunwale bobbing” or
“gunwaling” allows a canoe to be propelled
without a paddle. The canoeist stands on
the gunwales, near the bow or the stern,
and squats up and down to make the canoe
rock backward and forward. This can be
turned into a game where two people stand
one on each end, and attempt to cause the
other to lose balance and fall into the water,
while remaining standing themselves.
School on Wheels
Museum
um
Visit the original CNR School on Wheels
train car where Fred Sloman taught
the children in isolated areas
of Northern Ontario from 1926-1964.
Open Thursday to Sunday & Holidays,
May to September 30th • 11 am to 4 pm
Admission by donation.
Admission of $5 may apply for group tours.
Please inquire about accessibility.
Call 519-482-3997 for info. & to arrange group tours.
At Sloman Park
76 Victoria Terrace, Clinton
schoolonwheels@centralhuron.com
www.centralhuron.com
Discover
more in
Mitchell!
www.westperth.com/BIA
westperth Summer 2023 Ontario’s official motto is “Loyal she began, loyal she remains.”
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