A late post on Fall Conference

I seem to be about a week behind. This doesn't surprise me much- last week was a major challenge and left us all tired and grouchy. The irony here is that this was likely to be the most densely packed week of the fall, and I haven't said anything about it. I'll try to remember the details as best I can.

Things were complicated from the very beginning of check in. I was slated to work at East Tent City, but this was quickly changed as we discovered that due to an inconsistency in the paperwork we sent out, people were expecting to be checked in at the Welcome Wagon. This meant that I had to sit out by a tree all afternoon by myself to greet people. I like people, and I had no problem welcoming them to Philmont, but the doldrums between customers were ridiculous. I spent the last hour of my time there woodcarving.

I guess I should have expected that my group might be a challenge. It was only four kids, aged 7-12, and the oldest and youngest were from the same family. It just sounded too perfect. For our group photo we all put on costumes (most of the group were cowboys). We went to Rayado and did the history, we hiked to the T-rex print, and if they were a little rambunctious it all seemed pretty typical.

What I somehow failed to take into account was that the kids were pretty socially stunted. The oldest boy was fixated on guns and war, the girl and her brother had a tendency to stare at people until it unnerved them, and the youngest responded to any physical contact by pinching like an ear piercer. This was especially a problem because he was so hyperactive that we often had to grab a wrist to keep him from running off.

And let's not forget, our seven staff members were doing everything that week. Western night found us scrambling in the bitter cold to set up our activities. All of my kids joined me for roping and kept at it for an hour. At the dance, the participants seemed content to watch us and neither leave nor participate. It was unnerving and exhausting, and when we finally shut it down, it was with the knowledge that everything would likely go this way for the rest of the week.

Put simply, by the end of Tuesday morning, our nerves were shot. The kids behaved themselves well enough in the Villa, but I about lost it when I found out that Kay had somehow left out the wrong craft project for us. Well, not exactly the wrong project. We asked her to set out ten birdhouses so that even if we were swamped with kids we would have enough. She did set out some birdhouses, and she even set out twelve projects. The problem was that she set out three birdhouses and nine bird feeders (A project with some similar parts but not nearly challenging enough for our older kids). I left the group at East Tent City and spent about half an hour swearing in the handicraft building before I gave up looking for a fourth birdhouse and settled on making bug boxes.

The kids actually did okay at archery and rifle that afternoon. I have a really good speech that I use to let them know how dangerous it is out there and, failing that, how near the danger is of me making them sit out. It generally works, and they had so much fun that we just stayed out there rather than going to the nature trail (truth be told, after the blank stares we got at Rayado and the Villa, I didn't really feel like another primarily educational experience would do us any good anyway). I actually had the evening off- the one time all week.

The conferences met on Wednesday morning, just like in the old days. So we had our kids back for the morning. And what a morning it was. We were slated for a buffalo tour, and having no idea where the buffalo were, we randomly drove all over two different pastures. At the back of one, we had some unexpected visitors - the ponies came to the fence to see us. It's difficult to say who was more excited, the kids, Jess, or the ponies themselves. It was fabulous, and we even managed to dodge the question of why Tyson was trying to hitch a ride on Nugget's back (We had to dodge it again when one of the buffalo gave another the same treatment). We did eventually find the buffalo in the second pasture.

Wednesday night was movie night, and I found myself popping all of the popcorn for the movie. Caitie and Jess were assigned there with me, but they ended up with something a little more important to do. Bears had found their way into camp, lured by the apples and garbage, and the girls were desperately trying to keep them treed so that when the participants came out of the movie, they wouldn't end up face to face with hungry and frightened animals that weighed three hundred pounds a piece.

Thursday was the all day hike, and the utter limit of my patience. The youngest child spent more time off the trail than on it, the oldest talked about guns until I wanted to be shot with one. The other two simply hiked on with unnerving obedience, occasionally wondering how much longer it would be. We went from Zastrow to Old Abreu, Jess lamenting the whole time that she had not brought her good camera. The trail was a true thing of beauty, and I made sure that we got to see the rapids just below Old Abreu. We adults were tired down to our souls, and just couldn't come up with much for the kids to do, but we managed to play with a natural seesaw a bit and let them build sandcastles next to the creek at Zastrow.

And then the sleet started. I assume it was sleet; coming from California my experience is somewhat limited. What it was was a kind of hail that splattered instead of stinging, and then refroze on our coats and hats. With a half an hour left to spend on the trail, we looked like walking snowmen, chunks of ice falling from our bodies to be instantly replaced. Ears and fingers lost all feeling but the burning cold, and our kids adopted the brave little smiles of soldiers on their way to their last battle. When we got back, our first stop was the dining hall for big cups of hot cocoa. Our second was East Tent City, to devour what was left of the pizza that the dutch oven cooking class had made. That may have been a different day- I don't remember.

At cobbler night, Rod Taylor discovered a piece of what I had been experiencing all week. He came to play for us, but found the audience... let's call it challenging. Just like opening program and western night, they enjoyed the performance, they just didn't show it. They quietly listened, applauded politely and gave as much feedback as a teddy bear tea party. It was enough to rattle even our singing cowboy, and he normally ministers to a herd of walking beef.

Friday found me more relaxed than I had been in a while. The end was in sight, and potential days off were coming. We hiked Lovers' Leap, taking the long way down because our kids had more energy than anyone had a right to after being frozen and chased by bears for a week. That afternoon we took the kids on the GPS course. The course is a point of pride for me; most group leaders hate it. They think it's boring and that no group of kids has ever liked it. There are a few of us that have proved this wrong- an activity is as fun as you present it to be. Let's face it, what twenty something year old likes to play "duck, duck, goose"? But a group of six year olds will play it for hours if you let them. The GPS course is the same way- just because you know where all the points are and don't feel like walking around in the sun looking for them doesn't mean that it can't be a fun scavenger hunt for a group of kids. You should have seen the kids scramble to find each point.

Closing program was a bit of a let down. As I noted before, our audience had a tendency toward quiet appreciation, and our best skits met only the quietest of chuckles. Surprisingly, program ran long, with different classes performing songs and a storyteller joining the action, if it could be called thus. And then they were gone.

The past week has been a little less complicated. Saturday was Family Fun Day. Unfortunately, those of us that lacked the earlier part of the day tended to have less of the latter, but the evening was fantastic. Part of Family Fun Day is the traditional bounce house, which is never absent from any carnival. When the festivities were over, the bounce house ended up in Greg's backyard. The staff bounced and played and set off fireworks until one in the morning. I left at eleven; two hours of energetic play was about enough for me.

We had a few days off as a fishing conference came in and needed only one staff member at a time. We helped to put away all of the equipment from East tent city, cleaned up the assembly hall, put away the toys from Family Fun Day, and generally got camp back into working order, but right now we're really just marking time. Next week is the outdoor adventure summit with its vendors and giant climbing wall. I think I'll be ready for a little more excitement by then.