I miss you already. I miss waking up to the sound of the trees moving in the wind and the birds chirping in those trees. I miss going to bed after the heat of a fire built too big for the pit. I miss camp food- Taco Tuesday with it's homemade salsa, the pasta on Meatless Wednesday, and even (sort of) the simplicity of chicken nugget day. I miss hiking everywhere, but specifically I miss the spot up Coyote Hill where the valley is spread out in front of you and camp is invisible but still audible. I will remember that view painted in the dying sunlight.
We had some beautiful times, Jones Gulch. I sang camp songs to you while trimming that oak by the archery range. The team relaxed in the sunlight and dug their fingers into soft grass after a long day of work. We laughed when Lois beat everyone at tetherball, and that laughter made you shrug and smile and settle around us a little tighter. We walked all your ridges, the main road of your spine and the smaller trails like limbs and fingers. We healed you. We found the places that were damaged and we made you strong again.
I'm still not too happy about that tree that nearly fell on us, but I forgive you. It is good to remember our mortality. It is good to remember that you are not human, that you are wild and lawless and that we just find our small ways to tame you, to bend you but not break you.
I think we all found something to wonder about this last month. Whether it was the power of trees or the bite of a lizard or the nature of stars. Thank you for that, Jones Gulch. We hated to say goodbye.
McKinley
I just came across your post while I was image searching Camp Jones Gulch and it made me smile. In 2008 I worked a summer at CJG and from there went immediately into my service year with NCCC. It's so awesome that you and your team had the opportunity to work there. Thanks to all of you for taking care of the Gulch :)
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