Camp Wiyaka

Every summer since I was ten years old one of my best friends, Maddie, and I would got to a sleep away camp together in New Hampshire for one week out of every summer. Every year I count down the days from the begging of school until the day that we leave for camp. My countdown is finally down to zero. Tomorrow morning we will be making the three hour-long car ride the Camp Wiyaka in New Hampshire. I’m trying to sleep because I don’t want to be exhausted for my first day of camp, but no matter how hard I try I just can’t. I’m up for most of the night looking through old camp photos and remembering all the amazing friends and memories I have made there. I am eventually able to fall asleep, but I wake up again to my mom yelling at me to get up and ready to go because were leaving in an hour. Usually I like to lounge around in bed for a little while after I wake up, but this is a completely different situation. I jump out of bed and sprint down the stairs. There is a bagel and cranberry juice waiting for me; I inhale it in about two minutes. I go back up stairs, take a shower, and add the last final things to my trunk. Then I double check to make sure I have everything. My trunk is packed completely full, and ways about a hundred pounds. My dad struggles to get it down the stairs and into the car. Finally were ready to go, I can barley keep my excitement in and keep squealing with joy. On the way we stop to pick up Maddie, who is just as excited as I am. The ride to camp is one of the most fun parts about going. We sing and go crazy and just act like total weirdo’s. It’s a blast! We get there right when they open the gates. We go sign in and get our t-shirts. Then we have to go to the nurse to get our heads checked for lice, which is my least favorite part. Finally we get to go and claim our bunks in our tent. We sprint up the hill to tent number eleven. We are the first ones there! We both get bottom bunks, which has never happened. At camp everybody wants the bottom bunk because they are a lot more comfortable, there is more space, and if your lucky they have a little shelf where you can put things like a clock. After claiming our bunks we go back down to our cars to get our trunks. Our parents always make us carry them up the hill by ourselves. I personally don’t see the point of this; it just makes the whole process move slower. After taking two trips up the hill with our trunks we are sweating profusely. We throw on our bathing suit and go down to the waterfront, our parent’s leave, and we get ready for an amazing week. By final campfire we have made so many new friends and would do anything not to have to. When we start to sing final song everybody starts crying, and there isn’t much singing going on. When it ends we say goodbye, and I cry for the majority of the car ride home. WORD COUNT: 564