Canoes and Shoes

So, I sat down at my desk today and slipped off my shoes and thought, oh how I love taking off my shoes. This thought reminded me of how we had to wear shoes in the pond, that rule never was a problem for me, I don't want to know what is on the bottom of that pond. :-/ Any who, my train of thought then turned to canoes and our canoe trip down the Teton River. I for some reason remember there being an abnormal increase in the mosquitoes population that day, a couple of tipped canoes, a lost lunch, and one Korean with a full body welt at the end of the day. I also remember Ashley, Mackenzie, and I being in the same canoe, and how we were so proud of ourselves we hadn't tipped are canoe the whole trip. Shortly after that moment I wish I would have knocked on wood, because lo and behold 2 seconds after our brief self appraisal we hit a strainer. This strainer cause are canoe to do a complete 180 in a vertical fashion. Thus, we were all wet, we were shocked and me slightly disappointed with the rivers cruel way of showing us it controlled our future till we were out of the water. I loved that trip and loved the adventure it provided.

Remnants of Badger-literally

Lately Will and I have developed a bad habit of having a quick FHE at ten in the evening before we zonk off in bed. This last Monday, I was so tired that I opted to have FHE directly in bed. We broke out my old pocket hymnal for the opening song. Lo and behold, a song was already bookmarked for us--the bookmark was a smashed mosquito--remnants of Badger Firesides. Not quite as picturesque as pressed flowers, but who can really forget the mosquitos? It's pretty disgusting when you can catch them within the pages of your hymnbook.

Moth-zilla

Out all the moths I ever encountered during my summer at Badger Creek, there is one moth in particular that I will never forget, nor do I hope to ever meet again. It was on a dark and storm-less night...

My kids were tucked tightly away in their tents as I walked alone in the dark towards the light of the lofty lodge. I had left my backpack by the piano earlier that evening, and was now on my way to retrieve it.

Every camp I passed was silent and still. Every camp that is, except the last...

A girl at Camp Tipi, who had a history of anxiety attacks had started hyperventilating, and was now being escorted to the lodge for assistance. They reached the back door before I did, and headed inside. Not wanting to intrude, I waited outside with Abe and JP; talking casually about the day, and watching moths flutter fervently around the overhead light.

Suddenly, something substantially bigger than the swarm flew into the patio and under the light; casting a massive shadow onto the ground before me. My eyes darted around the ceiling, searching for the creature, but to no avail; it had vanished quicker than it's appearance.

"Did you see that?", I asked my friends.

"Yeah- what was that thing?" answered Abe.

"A bat, maybe?" replied JP.

Then without warning, out of the darkness something cuffed me the side of the head; knocking me off balance. I shouted in surprise, and as I recovered my balance and rose back to full height I came face to face with my aggressor...

It wasn't a bat. It wasn't even a bird...

It was a moth; specifically, the single-most gargantuan moth I have ever had the fortune of beholding in the flesh and living to tell about. It was so large, it was unnatural. It probably ate bats for breakfast. It was a massif among moths, most likely their original progenitor from ages past; the First Moth. No doubt just got out of millennial-hibernation, and decided to go out grab a bite to eat.

I've never seen it's equal; nor do I ever intend to, if I have my way.

Moth-topia

Every Monday morning I would wake up freakishly early (5:00ish) to shower and get a jump-start on the week with some time to just hear myself think. NO ONE was up at this time and I'd make my way down to the Girls' Bathroom in the dark. Every week when I flipped the light switch on in the bathroom I'd get the heebie-jeebies real bad: it was like Moth-topia in there. So. Gross. Occasionally I'd think about Harry Potter during these times. In book one Harry lived in the cabinet under the stairs and it said he didn't mind spiders because he was so used to them. I used to think that was 1. disgusting and 2. impossible. But, over time I did kinda get used to the little buggers and I trained myself to not think about it too much.



Badger Moth, photo attribution goes to Abe. Thanks!