Pictured Rocks

From the ages of 14-27 I spent every summer at camp except two.   One of those Summers I went to Africa.  I most likely will share some stories about Africa at some point, but not today.  This is a story about an adventure I had the Summer I stayed home.

That Summer I decided to be "responsible" and take a couple of classes at the local community college to make up for some classes that I had failed.  I also worked a job doing maintenance at college.   It was not a fun Summer. I fumbled through my classes.  I got up every morning and worked my job.  The silver lining was at the end of the summer my friend and I were planning a two week backpacking trip to Pictured Rocks.

The day we left we got a late start.  We had several things to do before leaving town.  I don't really remember what they were, but they were important.  We finally left by late afternoon.  By the time we crossed the Mackinaw Bridge it was starting to get dark.  We found a quiet little campground to spend the night.  In the middle of the night we learned why the campground was so quiet, a train came through the middle about every hour!  Tired and cranky from lack of sleep we got up and headed to the visitors center to check in and reserve our campsites.

Finally we were on our way!  We parked at the trailhead. My friend gracefully put her backpack on. I put my pack on but wasn't quite ready for the weight of a two week pack.  My knees buckled, I tried to catch myself and managed to fall to my knees before falling face forward and landing on my chin.  I hurt everywhere.  My knees hurt, my head was pounding.  I felt the blood.  I tried to get up but it was difficult as I had a 40lb backpack on my back.   For some reason there  was something in my mouth, as I managed to sit up all I could think was "Get thing out of mouth". Meanwhile my friend was appropriately flipping out and trying to help - grabbing her first aid kit. As I began to spit,my  friend says "Why are you spitting blood?"  I finally managed to spit out the object, only to realize it was a part of my tooth.  When I had fallen I managed to bite my tongue hard enough to pierce it with one of my top teeth, chipping it on a bottom tooth.

We went into the bathroom and began cleaning the gravel out of my chin.  I really have to give my friend all the credit here, she did amazing.  She was brave, she was gentle and she cleaned the hole in my chin.  We realized we were far away from any kind of med center or hospital.  We could go home,  we maybe should have, but remember how awful my Summer had been?  This was my one trip, my one bit of happiness before another year of school. We decided to give it one night.

After making a little detour to a gas station to stock up on gauze and Neosporin, we headed into the wilderness.  It was beautiful there were waterfalls, cliffs overlooking the lake, and nature wonderful nature.  That first day we changed my gauze often, and gave me Tylenol every four hours on the dot.  We finally arrived at our campsite in the early evening.  As we walked up to the community fire ring one inebriated woman bluntly stated "You fell forward didn't you?"  So we told the epic tale.  That night when my friend was asleep I realized I was in a lot of pain.  I decided in the morning we would go home.  I fell asleep with the peace that at least I tried.

The next morning I woke up.  I had slept well and my chin didn't really hurt to bad.  It felt like a skinned knee.   There was a still a large "hole" as my friend called it but, I decided I could go on.  So we did.  Our two week hike was filled with great memories.  We met many interesting people, the gauze on my chin always being a great icebreaker. We saw amazing views, and we relaxed. I learned a lot on that trip.  I learned the importance of  keeping a lighter backpack.  I learned more about God by viewing his creation.  I learned how to pray better.  I learned that hotdog are by far my most favorite food.  I learned that with determination and persistence you can do anything.  Most importantly I learned how to be patient and rely on someone else to take care of me, and that I had a friend for life.

The following Spring my friend got married, and I worked at camp again.  I have never again gone on that big of a trip again, but my friend and I have been able to enjoy many smaller weekend trips.  She is my number one hiking pal!  We have taken her kids and my nephews and nieces on trips. We will never forget our trip to Pictured Rocks though and this Summer we plan to go back for a week. I can't wait!

Being bullied

There is a part of my past that most people who know me don't know.  It's hard for me to talk about. I don't really want people to see me as the kid who was bullied.  I just wanted to be accepted then and deep down I think people wouldn't accept me now if they knew. I know that that's not true, but I still have that fear in me.  I guess I should really start from the beginning.

In elementary school I didn't have many friends.  I had one best friend who is still my best friend, but we didn't really play together much.  We spent time at each others houses and went to camp together but we really didn't play to much together at recess. She ended up switching schools in third or fourth grade, and then there really was no one.  I can remember going through spurts of playing with a friend for a period of time, but eventually I would go back to swinging.  I loved swinging. In the winter I would push all the snow away so I wouldn't hit the ground.  I had one swing that was my favorite and I would swing every recess.  Looking back I think it was probably fulfilling my sensory needs from being over stimulated from my ADHD, but if you were to ask me then then I would have probably told you I just like to swing.   When I would swing I would make up stories.  I talked to myself when I made up stories so I probably talked to myself when I sang.  I at least moved my lips.  I still make up stories when I go on hikes and I have to remind myself to keep my mouth closed.  Anyway my point with all that is I was strange.  

In fifth grade I started wearing my brace.  In sixth grade there were two big changes in my life.  The first one was we moved to the junior high building, that had no playground and swings.  The second was that my older sister who was my protector went to high school and rode a different bus.  Sixth grade is also the year where the other girls in my class started to get interested in boys and makeup.  I was immature for my age and still preferred to play with dolls and swing.  In middle school for recess  we had sports teams and would take turns playing the other teams.  If your team wasn't playing you sat and watched the others.  I was and still am horrible at sports and it wasn't fun to me at all.  I honestly can't tell you how I acted, but I am a moody person, and if I don't get breaks from things I don't enjoy ....trainings at work, to many meetings....I turn into an angry bear.  I am sure that I was moody most of the time. Another thing about me is I tend to over react.  I am better at hiding it now, but sometimes at work my coworkers will start laughing at my hand motions and facial expressions when something bugs me.  So here I was this over emotional hormonal teenager that needed sensory outlets an had none.  

I am not sure when the bullying started but I do know it gradually got worse.  I know I got picked on from time to time on the bus in elementary school but my sister would put a stop to it.  As I went through junior high ( middle school) it slowly got worse. By the time eighth grade rolled around it was so bad that I walked home from a bus stop that wasn't mine ( about 3 miles) just so I wouldn't have to endure the hour long bus ride with the bullies.  I can remember it was the worse on the bus, but then slowly it started to migrate to everywhere.  The bullies were mostly boys and I think it just was fun for them to get a reaction out of me ( Like I said before I do overreact, and it can be funny.). Back then however, I was not at point that I could laugh at myself. 

To say the whole class was involved would be an overstatement, but not one class mate stopped it, or helped me through it.  I was alone.  At least I felt alone.  One teacher cared. Just one out of six.  I am forever grateful for that one teacher, but it wasn't enough.  Not then.  I needed more.  Eventually things got so bad that my parents pulled me out of my school halfway through second semester and put me in a new one.  I got picked on there a little bit too, but the biggest difference was I had a small group of friends.  I can still remember boys at the new school teasing me about the way I looked or walked or whatever.  Then my new friends who had not known me for very long, just said " come on let's go away from them, those guys are jerks".  That's it that's all.  I no longer felt like a victim.  I had friends.  They didn't stand up for me, they just told me to ignore them.  That's all I needed.

The summer between my eighth and ninth grade year I started doing a volunteer program at camp.  It made me a different person.  I was encouraged to be myself, and was loved for  uniquely who I am.  

At camp I learned how laugh at myself, how to trust in God, how to lead, how to be a cheerful servant.  Most of all I was loved.  I was loved for who I was.   Camp was my happy place.  Camp was  my safe place.  Every kid needs a place like that.  It doesn't have to be camp.  It can be youth group or 

soccer or drama club or anything.  Every kid needs a place where they can be free.

It was also that summer that I truly forgave those kids who bullied me, and started a long process of healing.  Sometimes it still haunts me though. I still get overly anxious about starting new jobs.  I worry if I will be liked by people. I am self conscious about the way certain clothes will look.  I am writing this mostly for two reasons.  The first is because it's part of helping me heal. The second is much more important.  It's to encourage everyone to be that one teacher who was there, or the kid who told me to ignore the bullies, or be the camp counselor who praises the weird quirky outcasted broken kid to be just who they are.  Be that someone who makes a difference.