There ain’t no flies on us!

Once again it is summer. Last week something happened at work that got me remembering the amazing days of summers past spent at Camp Glenburn. Glenburn has to be one of the best places in New Brunswick to promote active living. It is on the south shore of the Bellisle Bay on a big hill that about every 2 hours you would go up and down. When you were up you were up, when you were down you were down and when you were only half way up…

I had spent 4 summers there, the first was the year before the boathouse, the second was the year they built the boathouse, and the third was the year after the boathouse was built, and the final was when I was 16 in 1998. One of my most favorite activities was canoeing, Especially when one year we went to the island in the bay east of the camp, and the other year when we went to a beach across the bay and to the west. And then there was the treks way up the hill to Mt. Baldy however it was in hindsight just a huge rockface and not really a mountain.

Campfires were also one of most memorable ever, and through Scouting I have been to many campfires but there was always something special. One of the songs went like this.

“There was once a cowboy all dressed in red,
fell off his horse and broke his head.
there was blood on the saddle, blood on the ground,
great big globs of blood all around!”

Then there was the summer with the Councillor (CIT I think) who ate flies and grew a following of others who started eating flies. Then there were the classic kitchen raids in the middle of the night.