Archive for the 'Daily Life at Pemi' Category

by Larry Davis

The Nature Lodge soon after it was built

This is my 42^nd year (1970-present) as Director of Nature Programs and Teaching at Pemi. My predecessor, Clarence Dike, was here for 41 years (1929-1970). Given my new longevity “record,” it seems like a good time to reflect on the history of natural history at Pemi.

Founding of the Nature Program

Pemi’s nature program began in 1925. The Seniors were split into five groups, and each group took “Nature” for one week, concentrating on collecting and identifying plants, shrub leaves, trees, and flowers. Clarence Dike came in 1929, and in 1930, the Nature Lodge was built. The building was named for Rev. and Mrs. Paul Moore Strayer of Rochester New York. He was a great amateur naturalist, and the Minister at Doc Win’s (one of the founding Fauver twins) church in Rochester.

Nature Lodge interior, 1930's

The interior of the Nature Lodge today is strikingly familiar to that of the 30′s. The two large tables with yellow birch legs are still in use today (although in very different positions). The workbenches are still in place and we still have most of the original benches to sit on, and the two original insect display cases are still in use. There have, of course, been many changes. The first is the addition of the “department” signs above the windows. These were in place when I arrived. We’ve also added a lot more lighting including two skylights. The original building had no electric lights and there were only two bulbs in place during my first years.

In 1995 we added the Phillip Reed Memorial Nature Library. This gave us about 65% more space and a weather-proof area to house our burgeoning book collection (now at about 1000 volumes). Local artisans, Roger Daniels and Richard Sharon, built the addition using native woods and the same, unusual, log construction as the original lodge. Phillip Reed was Tom Reed, Jr.’s cousin. He was a well-known environmental lawyer who passed away at a tragically early age (I actually first met him while wearing my other “hat” as an environmental science professor). He was passionate about the outdoors, and the library, built at the suggestion of and with the support of his family and friends, is a fitting and lasting tribute to him. Today, the library serves not only as a book repository, but also as a teaching station and a place where, during free time, campers and staff gather to talk about nature and dozens of other topics. I know that Phil is pleased.

Program

Clarence Dike and camper, making a butterfly net, 1940's

While today’s program is more extensive than it was in Clarence Dike’s day, it is very much built on the foundation that he laid. We are still making butterfly nets the same way…mosquito net bags sewn onto a bent coat hanger hoop and attached with electrical tape to a trimmed stick. We are still using those nets to collect butterflies, moths, and many other insects, which we pin out on the very same spreading boards that he made (which can be seen in the 1930’s photograph of the Nature Lodge).

Other program elements begun by “Mr. Dike” include the tree walk, the “What-is-it?” contest, study of ponds and streams, and the Junior Nature Book. These all continue today. Some things we do not do any more. For example, it was common, in the 1930’s, to routinely shoot and skin birds and animals for display. We continue to display those in place since the birds are long dead and we’ve got the display. But we always make it clear that this was an old way of doing things and we now realize that this is harmful to ecosystems and the natural balance of things.

In the early days of the program, campers took a general "Nature" occupation.

We also used just to offer general “Nature” as an occupation. In fact, this was still the way we did it during my first 8 years at Pemi. We usually had 20-30 boys all wanting to do different things. We never knew, until our first meeting, just who wanted to do what.

Note how, in the picture on the left, there are two  groups of boys doing two different things. In 1977, we experimented with a new format. We offered a “Butterflies and Moths” occupation for the first time. Since then, we have offered only this kind of specific activity. We are able to plan our lessons more carefully, separate beginners from more advanced campers (and indeed, offer more advanced lessons), and offer a much wider variety of topics.

Going beyond

Today, occupations offer focused topics, such as "Ants."

The advent of individual activity occupations has allowed us to build on the solid foundation that Clarence Dike laid and to go far beyond it. We now offer 14-18 different nature occupations each week. Some, such as Beginning Butterflies and Moths or Beginning Rocks and Minerals, are available every week. Others such as Orienteering or Non-Flowering Plants may be available only once or twice a summer. Many of these activities are taught at an  advanced level so that campers can grow in their knowledge and skills within a field that holds particular interest for them. In total, we offered close to 40 different occupations this summer. These include “interdisciplinary” activities with the arts such as Photography (both darkroom and digital), Environmental Sculpture (inspired by the work of Scottish artist Andy Goldsworthy), and Dyeing Woolie Critters along with Dyeing and Weaving (more on these below).

In the early 1990’s, Russ Brummer, as part of his Masters degree work at Antioch New England, developed a special occupation, Junior Environmental Explorations, that was designed to introduce Juniors to the Nature Program. It is a five-day curriculum that takes the campers through a series of activities in the woods, in the swamp, in the streams, and in the Nature Lodge, all of which are intended to acquaint them with the world around them, sharpen their observational skills, and let them know about the range of other nature occupations available to them. It is one of only two required activities at camp (the other is instructional swimming to Level 4) and all first-time juniors are automatically “enrolled” in their first week at Pemi.

Cyanotype, digital, and darkroom photography are featured in the annual Art Show

Our “interdisciplinary” art/nature occupations are particularly satisfying. They include Nature Photography, Nature Drawing, Environmental Sculpture, and both Dyeing & Weaving and Dyeing Woolie Critters. Photography has really expanded under the guidance of our own talent (Dan Reed on digital and Peter Siegenthaler in the darkroom) and visiting professional Andy Bale, who is on the faculty at Dickinson College. Many campers have their work displayed at the annual end-of-year Art Show.

Environmental Sculpture encourages careful observation.

Environmental sculptures are created out of natural materials and they are frequently ephemeral, lasting only a few days or even a few hours. Besides exercising campers’ artistic instincts, the activity also strongly encourages careful observation of the natural world. I have frequently seen boys pick up and discard a dozen different rocks before selecting just the right one for their sculpture.

Natural dyes create colorful wool.

A more recent innovation is the use of natural dyes to dye wool. This is a lot of fun, as combinations of plants and different mordents (the metal or substance used to “fix” the dyes) can lead to unexpected results. We have dyed yarn and woven it and, for the last three years, dyed raw (but cleaned) wool and used it to needle felt “woolie critters.” Thus the occupation name, “Dyeing Woolie Critters.” We get our wool from a farm right here in Wentworth, and we have even been able to go there and see sheep shearing.

Collecting milkweed pods to cook back at the Nature Lodge

Finally, we come to the single most requested nature occupation, Wild Foods. This is taught each week, but is only open to 8 boys at a time. We were getting 50-60 requests for it each week. So, two years ago, we began limiting it to uppers and seniors only. The boys love it because they get to taste some interesting food. For me, however, the most important lesson comes with the context. We are always thinking about what it would have been like to make a living from this hard New England soil 600 years ago, before the first Europeans made permanent settlements here. We talk about gathering food, preserving it for winter, knowing what as edible and poisonous, and how that information was passed on. Three years ago, we started a “farm” where we grow the “three sisters” (corn, beans, squash) using varieties as close as we can get to those used by the Indians. We get the seeds from Plimouth Plantation where they grow and maintain stocks of these old, old strains.  In the end, we hope that the boys gain an appreciation for the hunting and gathering lifestyle and for the work that was involved in just feeding yourself and your fellows each day, let alone storing enough for those long New England Winters.

Trips

Collecting minerals at Palermo Mine with Deb Kure

We started taking our first nature trips in 1971. They were to mineral collecting areas, and one of the first was to the Palermo Mine in North Groton, NH. Forty years later we are still going there, guests of the owner, Robert Whitmore of Weare, NH. In fact, he has given us keys to this world-famous locality and donated some spectacular specimens, found at the mine, for us to display. We usually run one of these trips each week, and they give the campers a chance to collect some really interesting minerals.

Older boys have the chance to go caving

One of the truly different things that we do through the Nature Program each summer is to run two caving trips to the Karst (cave) region of New York State, about 30 miles southwest of Albany. These are both adventure and geology trips and, as a geologist who studies hydrology in these areas (while wearing my University “hat”), I lead them. Pemi caving trips and photographs are featured in detail in Caving Trips with Camp Pemi, an article that you might enjoy reading.

We also take trips to sites of geological or ecological interest. This summer, for example, Associate Head of Nature Programs, Deb Kure, led geology field trips to Crawford and Franconia Notches. In past years, we have gone to the virgin spruce-fir forest in the Connecticut Lakes Region of extreme northern New Hampshire, to remote bogs in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, to Plum Island in Newburyport, Massachusetts, and for fossil collecting on the Lake Champlain Islands in northwestern Vermont.

The Nature Instruction Clinic

In 1992, Rob Grabill, Russ Brummer, and I gave a workshop on teaching nature at camp at the International Camping Association meeting in Toronto, Ontario. This led to the establishment, in 1993, of the pre-season nature instruction clinic. This 5½-day class is designed to train instructors from other camps (and some of our own too) to teach natural history in a camp setting. It is a way in which we can share our experience and spread the good work to far more children than we personally could ever reach. The clinic is broken into two main segments. In the first, we introduce the participants to the natural history of the area. In the second, we work on teaching skills, including lesson planning and exhibit making. Everything is hands-on and tailored to the specific needs and interests of each year’s group.

In 2009, the Nature Instruction Clinic was accepted as a three-credit (graduate or undergraduate) course at the University of New Haven, the institution at which I teach. It is the capstone course in our new Environmental Education Concentration within the Master of Science in Environmental Science Program. This year we had five University of New Haven students participating along with two staff members from Pemi and five from other camps.

Closing Thoughts

It has been a long journey for Pemi Nature since 1925. Over the past 87 years, we have introduced thousands of boys to the natural world around them. Some have gone on to careers in geology or ecology or natural history teaching. Deb Kure, our current Associate Head of Nature Programs, came to the first Nature Instruction Clinic as a newly minted geology graduate. She went on to a distinguished career as an outdoor educator, having worked for the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History, among other places. She now does after-school nature instruction for Camp Fire International in Austin, Texas. Most, however, have simply taken what they learned here at Pemi and used it to enrich their lives and the lives of their families. All of this was made possible by the vision of the Four Docs who provided the impetus, the place, and the people that were needed to make Nature a key part of the Pemi experience. Over the years, every Pemi director has supported the vision and the expansion of the program to what it is today. I feel immensely privileged to be a part of the legacy and see Pemi’s Nature Program continuing to grow and evolve far into the future.

The American Camp Association has just launched “Explore 30,” a program designed for camp communities to address the issue of summer learning loss by encouraging reading while at summer camp. It will come as no surprise to those of you familiar with Pemi’s daily schedule, traditions, and even facilities, that the Pemi ethos has long valued and supported the practice of reading. From time set aside—daily rest hour, self-scheduled afternoons, bedtime—to a well-stocked library, to a 250-page “summer’s record” publication mailed annually to each community member, we like to think that Pemi has played a role in cultivating for many a boy a lifelong habit of reading.

Tom Reed, Jr., Professor of English at Dickinson College and a Pemi director, takes a look at the cherished ritual of “reading after taps.”

For as long as I can recall – thinking back over a half century as a camper and on staff – one of the most winning aspects of Pemi’s bedtime ritual finds the counselor reading to his cabin after lights-out. The practice likely goes back to the very first years of camp, when the stories would have come from Booth Tarkington or Horatio Alger and not, as in my own early days, from the Hardy Boys or, more recently, Harry Potter or Lemony Snickett.

There’s never any trouble getting younger campers to buy into the practice. So keen are most to recreate with their new “family” the rites of their real homes that a clever counselor can often get his charges into bed and quiet even before the bugle sounds “Taps.” He simply promises to begin the reading as soon as all teeth are brushed and everyone’s clambered into their bunks, lowered their mosquito nets, and pulled their covers up to their chins.  Older boys – maybe on the 13-14 cusp – may appear to need some convincing: being read to might imply that they were still as young as the rapt listener in The Princess Bride, which might not be cool. Then again . . . ! So, we recommend that even our Upper Intermediate counselors at least try reading for the first week – and the majority of cabins seem more than happy to lock in for the duration. Seniors? They are privileged to chat quietly for a while after Taps has blown, and then to read quietly to themselves until ten o’clock or so – or until the rewarding labors of a long day take their sweet toll and they drop off one by one.  I honestly recall, though, being a Senior for the first time and secretly missing what can be among the richest communal moments at camp:

You’ve all had a remarkably active day and, after the mad rush of getting ready for bed, almost all of you are securely tucked-in. Maybe one boy is a little late getting back from the washroom, and you remind him (amiably, we hope) that he should hurry so the story can resume. Or maybe it’s been a rainy day, and you’ve all been in the cabin for an hour, but it’s still incredibly comforting to slip into the double cocoon of bug-net and bed and, as the raindrops pat evenly on the roof above, wait while your counselor switches off the overhead light, walks back to his bed, props himself up against the wall, flips on his headlamp, and opens “the book.”  A hush throughout – and he begins.

Some counselors read better than others. I recall having a Scottish counselor in one of my cabins who made Tom Sawyer sound like a Robert Burns poem. Some books are better than others. I can also recall a cabin mutiny when one of those ponderous James Fennimore Cooper novels got off to a such a slow start that we had to convince our counselor to switch to a (carefully censored!) reading of From Russia with Love. But both reader and reading matter quickly fall into the patterns of soothing routine, and one of the more fleeting but memorable parts of the cabin experience takes off for the summer.

It’s a little like a campfire, but you’re safely in bed. The light cast by the counselor’s headlamp dances on the rafters almost like firelight, as his head turns ever so slightly to follow the words – or he looks up to see a Luna moth attracted to the illuminated page. Sometimes, a boy who drifted off prior to last night’s conclusion will need an update – but the boys are normally right back up to speed with no need for a reminder. If the story is gripping, as it usually is, one or another of you may be tempted to read ahead at rest hour, say. But tempting as this may be, it’s not really how it’s done at Pemi. We’re all in it together, be it Tecumseh Day, four-day hikes, or nightly reading. And to quiet down and listen raptly and all advance together under the spell of an engaging fable is one of the dependable if simple pleasures of our communal life. Fifteen or twenty minutes, a chapter or two. We may want more. Then again, it’s been a tiring day – and if we move too quickly through the book, it will soon be over. That would be too bad.

This is of course all wise and good in a developmental sense. What could be better, amidst the full-bore active life, than to pay this regular attention to the life of the mind and of the imagination? It’s also (as you all clearly realize) a terrific way to quiet the lively masses for the night, something dearly appreciated by those staff who will monitor the cabin areas on “Night Patrol.” But if it’s a smart and practical thing to do, it’s also spiritually unifying. Whatever our days have involved, whatever trials or successes or irritations or joys, everyone in the cabin is carried along together in the momentum of carefully crafted words, offered by an “older brother” who is tuned in to the common welfare in a comfortingly dependable way.

More evenings than I can say, as I and a few senior staff stand on the Intermediate Hill or in the Junior Camp after the bugle has blown, I’ll walk down the line of cabins as the last glow leaves the western sky and a thousand stars brighten. I move from one voice to the next, one soft and another louder, one British and one with a Louisville twang, one reading a timeless tale of Poe, another a Roald Dahl. Passing by each porch, I can feel the power of every story, weaving the listeners closer by the moment. Tomorrow, they’ll rush off in their own directions. There may even be squabbles about who has to carry the trash all the way to the recycling area today. But for these hushed moments, something magical happens. It’s hard to pull away.

–Tom Reed, Jr.

“What is the best age to start camp?” asked a prospective camper’s mom yesterday. It’s a great question, and given that it was asked in three phone conversations this past week alone, seems to call for some conventional wisdom offered to a broader audience.

As a simple but dependable guideline, a child is usually ready for overnight camp when he can successfully spend one night away from home with a buddy. On average, sleepovers start at age 8 or 9, as the social skills and independence that emerge in 1st and 2nd grade provide him with the confidence to spread his wings. For some, this might not happen until age 11 or 12 or later, but the bottom line is that one productive night away from home sets the stage not just for surviving but, in fact, for thriving in a 3.5 and, yes, even 7-week session. This “rule of thumb” (and over 100 years of institutional experience) often serves as an eye-opening, if not comforting, benchmark for parents who might otherwise assume their children are too young for sleep-away camp, and for boys who aren’t sure if they’ll be able to manage.

You may experience a major disconnect between your head and your heart before your child goes to camp for the first time. We know that we want our children to be happy and not sad; to be successful and strong; to say and do the right things so they will make friends; to be comfortable in their own skin as well as respect the uniqueness of others. We reason that if we keep him by our side, provide the answers, and safely pave each step of the way, we can be pretty sure he’ll land where we want. But what happens beyond that landing pad? Ultimately, he’ll struggle both academically and socially if his “inner compass” for solving problems, making decisions, and establishing relationships—all necessary skills for a successful and satisfying life—has never been activated. You certainly don’t want that to occur at the college gate. Letting go can feel like cutting off your right arm, especially when there is the potential for your child to experience homesickness or uncertainty, or make a mistake, or not eat because he is a picky eater. You might intellectually recognize that your son will benefit from (not to mention enjoy!) an experience away from home, but, boy, the parental heart pounds at the very idea of letting him go.

“Independence Education” follows a learning curve similar to math, or reading, or sports. A teen or young adult doesn’t understand calculus, or write a cohesive term paper, or consistently throw strikes without having acquired essential building blocks along the way. Similarly, a teen or young adult doesn’t wake up confident, independent, and eager to try new things on a specific birthday. So how does he get there? When adults offer appropriate doses of independence at appropriate times, and have the courage to say, “Go for it. I know you can do it.” Certainly there are many ways to offer such opportunities to your child. Excellent summer camps, however, were established to partner with parents in this very mission.

If you do determine that this summer is the time for sleep-away camp, it is totally natural for both your son and you to be nervous… and even more so as summer approaches. For better or worse, know that it will be harder on you than on him. While you’re at home “letting go,” he’ll settle in and, under the guidance of supportive and caring staff, be doing all the things you hope for: making new friends, trying new activities, living in a gorgeous and healthy place. And if he feels homesick—which most everyone, regardless of age, experiences in an unfamiliar setting—your heart might ache but your head will know that overcoming homesickness will launch him to the next stage of independence, giving him the confidence to embrace further adventures, knowing that if he’s done it once, he can do it again.

Believe it or not, camp sessions fly by. And once you have him back home and listen to his stories, hear him sing the camp songs, and sense his pride in all he has done and accomplished, you’ll know in your head and your heart that you’ve given your child a wonderful gift.

-Dottie Reed, Head Administrator, Camp Pemigewassett

(Great thanks to Ned Whitman, Pemi camper of eight years, who happened to Skype me while this article was taking shape. In the midst of a gap year before heading to Harvard, Ned was in Laos, on his way to Cambodia and then New Zealand. We “chatted” about what he was doing, the new cultures he was experiencing, and the life skills that he gained through his summers at camp, starting at age 8. A few of his astute comments made their way into this article.)

First and Second Sessions at Pemi provide a full experience within each three-and-a-half-week timeframe. However, events and opportunities differ with each session, whether they are First Session’s extra week of instructional occupations, 4th of July festivities, and Birthday Banquet, or Second Session’s Tecumseh Day, special trips, and Pemi Week, and it is luck of the draw as to when our Visiting Professionals are with us. About half of the boys each summer (around 85, ages eight through fifteen) are at Pemi for full season, joined by 85 in First Session and 85 boys in Second Session. Full Session boys enjoy all that Pemi offers, and rarely does a boy choose to scale back to a half season after experiencing Full Session. However, many campers happily return year after year for either first or second session out of preference, or because school, family, travel, and/or finances make it impossible to do Full Session. The three-and-a-half-week session is a solid camp experience and boys who have acclimated to camp routines are able to take advantage of every minute.

That being said, as with a college year abroad versus a half year abroad, there is no doubt that Full Session allows boys—who by the fourth week have fully settled into Pemi and feel comfortable with routines and friendships—to step further out of their comfort zones to try more new things and/or to refine expertise in a given area. It is this combination of confidence and extra time that leads to further development in an almost magical, exponential way. For this reason, we strongly suggest that a family consider a full season, if schedule and finances allow.

When comparing Pemi’s tuition for First/Second Session and Full Session to other camps, Pemi ranks as one of the more affordable sleep-away boys camps in New England, with a fee structure that encourages the full-session experience. The Board of Directors has made every effort to keep tuition increases manageable over the years (actually keeping tuition level from 2011-12 and from 2009-10 in light of challenging economic times for many families). In keeping with our over-riding educational mission, Pemi is not “bottom line” driven in tuition policy, as for each Full Season camper we enroll in 2012, we will essentially reduce income by $2400 over enrolling a first and a second session camper to fill that one bed.

Pemi’s educational mission is to help boys develop into good citizens, in partnership with parents. We like to think we do so by providing excellent mentoring and instruction, with the hope that campers will return for several summers, each summer building upon past accomplishments, whether that is for seven weeks or three-and-a-half.

-Dottie Reed

At the request of Director Danny Kerr, the senior staff at Pemi has written the following vision piece in which they enumerate the values and beliefs that shape Pemi.

1. A prime objective of being a camper at Pemi is having the opportunity to try and learn a variety of activities and occupations.

By being involved in and trying a variety of offerings, campers learn to appreciate the activities they are not familiar with and better understand and respect the campers and staff who lead or are involved in these activities.

Variety helps counteract the hyper-specialization that is so prevalent in schools and is so much a reality for children in America.

Involvement in a variety of occupations is a way to explore who you are and fosters the courage to grow and mature as a person.

It also encourages self-directed learning in a high reward/low risk environment and allows you to determine what may not be your passion, an important lesson as well.

2. Pemi is a joyous place.

Humor is an important aspect of being at Pemi. Humor lets us celebrate what we do and who we are, but it also helps us keep things in perspective.

Music is an important part of this joyous atmosphere, whether the music is all-camp singing, staff music, or the music campers enjoy in occupations. Music brings happiness and a sense of bonding to our community in part because it is something everyone can enjoy, be they professional musicians or campers who are simply singing in the mess hall.

We strive to achieve the highest professional standards in all our endeavors, but accept the reality that things don’t always go as planned. It is part of being human to make mistakes, and important to understand that they are inevitable and can be part of the happy reality of camp.

3. There are many ways to affirm and to serve others at Pemi.

Living intentionally is one way to affirm and serve and is a prime way to develop our sense of community. Living intentionally often means developing personally as you are learning to help others.

Role-modeling is everyone’s job at camp and is a primary way that we help the community to understand what it means to live intentionally.

Camp is a place to redesign or reinvent yourself each year, in large part because it is a safe place to grow and mature.

4. We always strive for and hold the community to the highest standards in everything we do.

We help campers look for and profit from the expertise that is around them on a daily basis during the summer.

The pursuit of the highest standards teaches as important a lesson as achieving the final product.

Showing respect for ourselves, others, and our setting, be it in camp or out of camp, is a vital standard to hold ourselves to.

5. Caring and inspiring relationships are at the core of the Pemi experience and are the driving force at camp.

Relationships made at camp are life-long, life-changing, and based on the common experience of being at Pemi.

These relationships are often cross-generational, are inclusive, and have within them the same standards of high expectations and responsibility that we try to achieve in all other facets of camp life.

Life at Pemi involves some jargon with which neophytes may not be familiar. Here, then, is a Pemi primer: an introduction to the lexicon of the place. (Definitions with a hyperlink have another blog item devoted to them.)

AC: Assistant counselor. Most cabins have a junior counselor who assists the head counselor. He has just finished his junior or senior year of high school, and is almost always a former Pemi camper.

Bean Soup: Every Monday night the camp convenes in the Lodge for a reading of Bean Soup, a series of articles, some humorous, about the week’s events at camp, read aloud by the editors.

Brave: The Pemi Brave is an award that is earned through a series of accomplishments by an ambitious camper who excels in a variety of fields across the Pemi curriculum: athletics, nature, the outdoors, public service, and more.

Bunk: A bunk at Pemi is an upper or lower bed in a cabin or tent. Some camps use the term “bunk” for cabins, but Pemi doesn’t.

Cabin: A cabin is the camper’s home for the summer. There are also three heavy-duty canvas tents on platforms at Pemi– Junior Tent, Hill Tent, and the Lake Tent.

Chief: The Chief is the highest achievement at Pemi, earned by only eight to ten boys in Pemi history. Like the Brave but much more difficult to earn, the Chief award is obtained only by the Pemi boy who has demonstrated remarkable achievement across all aspects of the Pemi program. It takes multiple years to complete the requirements for a Chief.

Distance swim: In order to be permitted to take a boat out solo when the waterfront is open, a boy must first complete his distance swim: a closely supervised swim, about .5 mile long, from the high dive at the Junior waterfront to the high dive at the Senior waterfront.

Division: There are four divisions at Pemi: Junior (ages 8 – 11), Lower Intermediate (ages 11 – 13), Upper Intermediate (ages 13 – 14), and Senior (ages 14 – 15).

Dope stop: After a hiking trip, Pemi campers stop for candy and a soda. It’s not the best part of a hiking trip, but it’s pretty darn good. The term “dope” derives from the early New England slang for soda pop.

Flat Rock: Diagonally across from camp on Lower Baker Pond, this rock sticks out into the water (not surprisingly, the rock is flat). Most nights at camp, in lieu of a meal in the Mess Hall, a cabin of boys and their counselors will canoe across the lake and cook their dinner over a fire.

Free swim: Every afternoon at 5 pm, campers have the option of enjoying Free Swim, which is held in both the Junior Camp and Senior Camp. Campers are closely supervised by counselors, and must swim in groups of either two or three. Because this activity is included with the price of tuition, it is considered doubly “free.” (We kid, we kid.)

Gilbert and Sullivan. Every summer, Pemi performs one of four Gilbert and Sullivan operettas: HMS Pinafore, Pirates of Penzance, Mikado, or Iolanthe. These productions take an entire season to put together, and the results are frequently soaring.

Hanover Day: During Pemi Week, the senior campers get to spend a day in town. Shopping! Pizza for dinner! A movie! Ben and Jerry’s ice cream! Need we say more?

Inspection: Every day, after breakfast, the campers and counselors clean their cabins.

Junior Brave: This award, like the Brave, is earned by a camper in the Junior division who achieves success in the outdoors, nature, athletics, and more.

Lower Baker Pond: This is the lake that Pemi is on. No exaggeration: it’s one of the most beautiful places around.

Metal Boy: A fictional character of Pemi lore. He’s made entirely of metal. Watch out for rainy days!

Mess Hall: The dining hall: a beautiful sloped-roofed, high-ceiling building perched on a hill overlooking camp, where all meals are eaten, family-style.

Occupations: The daily, structured activities, based on lesson plans. There are three occupational hours before lunch, and for juniors, a fourth after rest hour.

Pagoda: The bathroom—for going “number two.” See the entry for “Squish” below for the Pagoda’s partner in crime.

Pemi Hill: Behind the Intermediate and Junior camp there is a wooded hill rising up about Pemi. A short, steep trail up the hillside takes Pemi campers to a wooden shelter that sits beside a fresh spring. Each cabin has the opportunity to spend a night up there at least once a season, and cook breakfast over the fire in the morning. It’s close enough to camp to still be able to hear that bugle calls, but far enough away to still feel like camping.

Pemi Week: The last week of Pemi, when the normal schedule of occupations ceases and daily events celebrate the season: Games Day, Woodsdude’s Day, the Triathlon, the Art Show, the performances of the Gilbert & Sullivan operetta, and more. It concludes with the Final Banquet, the Final Bean Soup, and the Final Campfire.

Pine Forest: Like Flat Rock, Pine Forest is a dining location across the lake which cabins can canoe to with their counselors and cook dinner over the fire.

Polar Bear: Every morning, campers leap out of bed with a glad cry (“huzzah!”), do quick exercises to wake up, and then jump in the lake. (Required for the first week that a boy is at camp for the summer, it’s optional afterward.) Just for fun, here’s a video of a young Pemi camper jumping into Lower Baker Pond.

Pink Polar Bear: Why jump in the relatively warm lake to wake up, when you can dunk in a very cold stream first thing in the morning? Many boys choose this option.

Rest Hour: After lunch, for a blissful hour, the campers relax on their beds and quietly read, write, or listen to music. There is a chance that counselors might even enjoy this break more than the campers.

Soap bath: Every Sunday, campers are obliged to be weighed, and then take a quick bath in the lake, using their biodegradable soaps. While hot showers are available all week long, some campers are occasionally reluctant to bathe themselves of their own initiative. Thus, the soap bath.

Squish: The bathroom. But only if you have to go “number one” or brush your teeth.

Tecumseh Day: Pemi’s historical, epic athletic rivalry with Camp Tecumseh. Think Athens vs. Sparta, but instead of bows and arrows and chariots, think baseball, soccer, swimming and tennis. And better sportsmanship. And no killing.

Two-day, three-day, four-day: Overnight trips. Junior cabins go on two-day long hiking trips; Lower Intermediates on three-days and Upper Intermediates on four-days. Seniors can go on a series of ambitious and optional trips, such as climbing Mt. Katahdin, paddling the Allagash waterway in Maine, or traversing the Presidential range in the White Mountains.

Bugle Calls:

Pemi is one of the few places where you don’t really need to carry a time piece: the bugle calls, played by a counselor, let you know what time it is. Here are some of the most common ones.

Reveille: Played at 7:30 sharp, this bugle calls pierces the quiet morning air with an upbeat and clear message: get out of bed! Former Pemi counselor Lance Latham sent along this great video he shot in the summer of 1987 of counselor Dean Ellerton playing reveille. Tom Reed, Sr., is seen on the hill, helping to encourage the boys out of bed.

First call: Played five minutes before a meal begins. Here’s a cheesy YouTube video, not affiliated with Pemi, that demonstrates the call.

Tattoo: Played at 8:45 pm, this bugle call means that it is time to start getting ready for bed. Here’s another YouTube video, also not affiliated with Pemi (and somewhat weird), that demonstrates the call.

Taps: The bugle call, played at 9 pm, when it is time to sleep. Here’s an excellent History Channel clip about the origins of the call.

This next blog item comes from Ian Axness, Pemi’s Head of Music. It’s his fourth year at Pemi, and he’s a 2009 graduate of Oberlin College (a place with deep Pemi connections) where he majored in Music History/Theory and worked on numerous music theater productions.

I can think of few spaces dearer to my musical soul than the main dining room of the Pemi Mess Hall. I think it has something to do with the decades of singing that have tempered the wood paneling; all those college songs and Doc Reed originals have had an effect on the place. The vibrations of an entire camp community singing in unison are truly remarkable. My knowledge of the connections between music and health are limited, but I can say without a doubt that spirits (and, certainly, vocal cords) are strengthened as a result of Mess Hall singing. In this way, music at Pemi exists as a living record of tradition, just like the plaques and trophies that hang on the walls. The unwritten call-outs, the pauses and ritardandi (moments of slowed rhythm) learned by rote and repetition, the Jones Junior High song— these are all a part of our shared Pemi musical foundation. And I firmly believe it is from this foundation of sonic exuberance that the rest of Pemi’s musical life springs.

I’m the Head of Music, so it would make sense for me to write about the dynamic, innovative musical curriculum at Pemi— to gush about the wide range of occupations that encourage personal investment in one’s instrument, and foster creative ensemble cooperation. I should perhaps speak about the concert events throughout the season, such as First- and Second-Half Vaudevilles, or the Pemi Pajama Pops, or Market Day (the Pajama Pops are a mid-season concert, and Market Day is a community event in nearby Wentworth where Pemi campers and staff perform each year). I could even talk personally about the joys and challenges of learning new repertoire myself, to be performed at Sunday Meetings or in the “Pemigewassett Opera House” (the Lodge). These are all essential parts of the Pemi music program, but for me music at Pemi is most strongly linked to the Mess Hall— from the daily singing of grace, to the percussive “P-E-M-I-sis-boom-bah” cheer, to Journey’s song “Don’t Stop Believing,” which is sometimes spontaneously sung at camp meals.

The music created at Pemi exudes a positive energy that can become wonderfully contagious. Boys create acts together for Saturday campfire or Vaudeville simply because it is fun and personally rewarding to do so. Camp is a place to try new things, and music is no exception. In fact, my first year as pianist in 2007 for the show “H.M.S. Pinafore” (it will return this summer!) was the first time I had ever played an entire Gilbert & Sullivan operetta. The positive creative environment at Pemi makes it possible for new musical experiences to instantly become great experiences for campers and staff alike.

The best part of music at Pemi, though, is that one cannot avoid it. Music is everywhere— flooding out of band practice in the Junior Camp, wafting through the Senior Lodge, strumming out of a guitar on the Intermediate Hill; even the regularly scheduled bugle calls are musical.

But if you care for a repast,

You’d better learn our songs, and fast.

(Except at breakfast.)

Ian encourages all campers to bring their musical instruments with them. This summer, he notes, there will be even more opportunities for campers to create ensemble music without such pesky obstacles as practicing.  Making it up as you go is okay!  (He also has this secret note to parents: Playing IS practicing!)

Of all the traditions at Pemi, the one with the strangest name is called the “dope stop.” For those unfamiliar with this term, let me first assure the curious reader that there is absolutely nothing drug-related about this tradition: “dope” is old New England slang for soda. (Al Fauver hypothesizes that the word “dope” sounds similar to “Coke,” and may be where the term originated.)

I’ve written here before about Pemi’s wonderful trip program, in which hiking trips leave nearly daily from Pemi to explore the White Mountains. Campers return from these trips usually tired and exhilarated at the same time—but that sense of exhilaration can come both from having completed a great foray into the woods, and from the special treat that comes at the end: the dope stop, when boys have the chance to run into a store and buy candy and a soda. When you’ve gone all summer at Pemi with none of that sugary stuff, it’s a big deal indeed.

I called up Al Fauver recently to ask him about his earliest memories of dope stops. “I was a kid at camp in the twenties and it was well established by that time,” he said.

But while it’s a tradition that dates back to the beginnings of camp, the first version of the dope stop involved home-cooked food, as part of a trip to Mt. Cube.

“We used to walk all the way from camp, on up to the foot of the trail,” Al said. “On the way up that long hill was the Pease Farm, and we would stop there and order blueberry pie to eat on the way down. They’d have milk, and half a pie per person.”

“She would bake them as we were climbing the mountain and they would be all ready for us, all warm, and the milk, and the sweet blueberry pie, it was great,” he said. The blueberries were, of course, local. “They picked them right in the back fields.”

Today, the dope stop is slightly less bucolic. Here’s how it works: The van or bus stops at a gas station or shop somewhere between the mountains and camp. The campers, in their sweat-stained t-shirts and shorts, hiking boots most likely still on, emerge from the vehicle, bedazzled by the prospect of getting to go into a store and buy something. One counselor supervises the van, while the other runs the operation inside the store. In pairs or in threes the campers wander the aisles. Quick! What to get? So many choices! Milky Way or Skittles? Coke or Gatorade? These are life’s tough decisions.

And decide they must, as time is limited. (As is the money they can spend, which is limited to roughly $2 per camper.) Famously, a legendary trip counselor named Reilly McCue gave campers something like 30 seconds each to make their decisions; that has since been relaxed somewhat. How would you spend your $2? For each camper, that’s a decision they ruminate on throughout the hike, and then, in a bewildering moment among store racks and coolers, must choose. It’s a long way from the simplicity and elegance of blueberry pie at the Pease Farm.

Most campers, of course, opt for the classic combination of a candy bar and a soda. But there have been notable exceptions, when campers chose to be unorthodox. Jackson Reed once used a quarter to buy air—yes, air—from the compressor outside the store intended for topping off tires. It was a hot summer day, and he used the pressurized air to cool himself down. Bill Pruden once used his money to buy an apple—and a copy of The New York Times. And last summer a Junior camper, Kevin Lewis, bought a cucumber!

The campers have to finish their goodies before arrival back at camp, and soda size is limited. The campers usually hurry to finish their loot, as it can’t be taken back to the cabins. The trash is thrown away; the cans and bottles are recycled. Gone are the days when each camper got his own half of a freshly-baked blueberry pie, but with that tradition pretty far gone from camp’s institutional memory, today’s campers seem perfectly happy with the modern dope stop ritual.

–Rob Verger

Just after breakfast each day at Pemi, there’s a magical moment when something incredible happens: The campers and counselors scurry back to their cabins, and clean!

Inspection—it’s a beautiful, essential part of the Pemi routine. Clothes are folded and squared neatly on the open wooden shelves. The floor is swept, and swept again, and the front steps, too. The towels and bathing suits hanging out on the breezy porches are positioned with care. Endless pairs of shoes are lined up under the beds, all those cleats and sneakers and Chacos and flip-flops in tidy rows. Campers run to the bathrooms to brush their teeth; one camper makes a dash to empty the cabin’s trash and recycling bins; the counselor hovers parentally about, encouraging the campers to use their time well. Quick! Dirty laundry in the laundry bags! Don’t forget to make your beds!

It’s one of the rare times in a Pemi day when recorded music can be played out loud, and anyone walking past a row of Pemi cabins during inspection will hear a medley of different songs emanating from each.

Inspection, while perhaps not in fact the most exciting event, serves an important purpose: it is Pemi’s way of putting itself together for the day, squaring everything away, making everything clean and ready to go. It gives each cabin composure, but I think it composes the minds of everyone at camp, too.

And then, at 9:20, the bugle blows, signaling that it’s time to put the brooms down. Each counselor walks towards the cabin he’s been assigned to inspect, bellowing something like, “By your bunks, Junior Six!” He then proceeds to evaluate the cabin on a numeric scale, judging everything from the neatness of the shelves to the deportment of the campers. (“Deportment” really is the word listed on the inspection checklist on a clipboard; I think Pemi is the first place I ever heard it used.)

If the inspection process sounds militaristic at all, it’s not. It’s thorough, but relaxed. Campers might complain about it, but I like to think that some of them secretly like tidying up. What I’m certain that they like more is the potential reward: the cabin with the highest average score at the end of the week gets a bag of Skittles, which when you’ve gone a summer with basically no candy, is a great treat indeed. (Some may remember the old reward was Hershey Kisses—Pemi has moved away from those, as all those little aluminum wrappers were too wasteful.)

When inspection’s over, the campers hustle to the first hour of occupations. The cabins are now clean for the day, but twenty-four hours later, they’re definitely ready to be cleaned again.

–Rob Verger

On with the Soup!

One of Pemi’s weekly highlights occurs each Monday evening, which is when the most delicious meal is served: Bean Soup. Campers arrive with carved wooden spoons in hand, ready to taste the delicious soup.

If you’ve been to Pemi, you know that Bean Soup is not really food in a traditional sense, although it certainly does provide nourishment. (And campers don’t really arrive with carved wooden spoons, although making the spoons used to be a camp tradition.) For those unfamiliar: Bean Soup is, loosely speaking, the camp’s newspaper, and is read aloud in the Lodge to the entire camp by editors, who sit perched on chairs atop a wooden table, above and in front of the gathered crowd. The editors write a lot of the articles, but also read ones submitted by campers, counselors, and staff. For the record, the whole experience is supposed to be humorous, and frequently, it is. (I’ve heard that the name Bean Soup came about because, in camp’s early years, there was a great deal of real bean soup served in the Mess Hall.)

Bean Soup, like any newspaper, is topical, timely, and provocative. It thrives off of whatever funny thing has happened at camp that week, and proudly shines a spotlight on the person responsible for the funniness. Awards are given each week for the director, camper, staff member and counselor who deserves to be recognized for, usually, something silly that he or she has done. And, in the final serving of Bean Soup, these awards are given out in a serious way to those who have had the greatest contributions over the entire summer.

Each holiday season, a bound edition is mailed out to the camp family. In this sense, Bean Soup serves (no pun intended) as the camp’s history book. It chronicles the funny things at camp that have happened, but also tells of trips, sporting events, and the everyday minutia of a season (the jokes, the weather, the food) that wouldn’t be preserved otherwise. It captures, and helps define, each season’s zeitgeist.

To me, Bean Soup has always been one of my favorite things about Pemi. It’s funny, and on its best days, maintains a balance between the kind of humor that might make a Junior camper laugh and the stuff that might make the back of the room, where the counselors and staff sit, laugh too. Bean Soup is light-hearted, sure, but it’s also a place where important things happen: people are recognized for the good they have done. And all of the best things about Pemi—the great humor, the sense of community, the unselfish spirit—are written down and captured, to be read again, when the camp season has long since ended.

–Rob Verger

Upper 2 on the summit of South Twin. July, 2008.

A Pemi day has a great, busy rhythm to it. But one of the most rewarding parts of the camp season comes when that routine is replaced by a trip into the mountains, whether it be a quick scramble up to the bald, brisk summit of Pemi’s neighbor, Mt. Cube, or a four-day trip through the Franconia Range.

Pemi has a long tradition of taking trips into the woods—the Appalachian Trail even cuts through a corner of camp property—and it’s always been one of my favorite parts of the camp experience. I can still clearly picture sitting on the warm rocks of a White Mountain summit on a Pemi trip, taking a sip from a water bottle and refueling with cheese and crackers. As both a camper and later, a trip counselor, I hiked up countless White Mountain trails.

Mountains in the Whites offer striking environmental contrasts. At the lower altitudes, just a few minutes away from the trailhead, the forests are quiet and stream-filled, and clusters of Goose Foot Maples line the trail. From there the trail usually steepens, and the group might become quieter as the climbing begins up a packed-dirt and rocky trail. As you gain altitude, the trees generally transition from deciduous to coniferous, and just below the tree line, the trees are usually compact, sturdy little evergreens. Then there are the summits and ridgelines of the Whites: these are breezy places where on a sunny day in the summer everything is warm and wide open and expansive: if the visibility it good, you can see for miles, with rolling mountain ranges receding into the distance. And when it’s windy or stormy on these ridges, you feel grateful you packed a bomb-proof jacket.

Things change on trips. Far from the comforts of camp, Pemi boys are challenged on the trails, and are spurred out of their daily routines into a new world. Boys on trips find themselves tested, in a good way. You carry your own water, and learn to take care of the needs of your body. If it’s raining, you use your rain jacket, and cover your pack with a pack fly, or line it with trash bags, or both. You learn the importance of keeping your sleeping back dry. At night, the trip counselor and the assistant counselor cook food over a WhisperLite stove, which produces a comforting little roar and an efficient blue flame. Dinner might be macaroni and cheese with tuna, which I think is delicious (but hunger is the best sauce). At night, you sleep in a tent, just a sleeping bag and pad and tent floor between you and the earth. Breakfast might be instant oatmeal, eaten quickly before hitting the trail.

With all these changes in routine and environment, hiking trips can be some of the most memorable experiences a boy will have during a season at camp: while days at Pemi blur together happily, trips have a way of drawing out the day and becoming bigger, more luminous experiences. Conversations on the trail and jokes over supper become all the more memorable, because there are no other distractions. Even your thoughts might seem stronger, more focused, in the woods and on the trail.

I have plenty of vivid images in my head from Pemi trips: dipping a Nalgene bottle into a cold stream and then dropping an iodine tablet in it to purify the water; eating dinner out of a plastic cup and then later eating oatmeal out of the same cup the next morning. Or, as a counselor, waiting until all the campers are in their tents at bedtime, and then making the rounds once more, double-checking that the tents are pitched properly and will stay dry in a storm, tightening the stays and stakes, saying goodnight to each group of kids.

Then there’s perhaps the sweetest part of the trip: emerging out of the woods and then hopping in the van or bus to go back to Pemi, and stopping on the way back for rare treat: candy and a soda. Rolling back over that bridge, coming back into Pemi, even just from a day trip, might be the best feeling of all: it’s a feeling of coming home after an adventure.

My experiences on trips with Pemi were incredibly formative in producing who I am today. What memories do you have? If you went on trips as a camper at Pemi, or led them as a counselor, what was the experience like?

-Rob Verger

These days, when I travel, I take one of two rolling suitcases I have. Both are convenient, and either will easily glide between the turnstiles in the subway in Boston or New York. But when I took my first trip to Pemi when I was a kid— for half of a season in 1988—I took with me what might seem like a much less practical item by today’s standards: a big trunk.

Recently, I dug it out of storage in the basement just to take a look at it. It’s three feet long and nearly two feet wide, and heavy even when pretty much empty. It’s dark green on the outside with an even darker trim, and has metal rivet-like things holding it together. Curved and delicately shaped pieces of metal are wrapped protectively around the corners and the edges, and there are heavy clasps on the front. The associations it has for me are all tied to Pemi, for I’m pretty sure I took this big clunker with me each season, packed full of stuff.

This was actually my father’s trunk before it was mine—and he took it to summer camp, too. On the inside there’s a white label with green writing on it that has my father’s name on it and then the words “Camp Zakelo, Harrison, Maine.” My name is literally tacked on over this label, on masking tape, and in my dad’s handwriting, it says “Camp Pemigewassett” now, on the bottom of the old Camp Zakelo label. My family isn’t big on hand-me-downs or heirlooms, but I still love the fact that both my dad and I used this trunk for camp.

Packing a trunk full of stuff for a summer on Lower Baker Pond was a ritual for me, and I’m sure that it was, and is, for countless other Pemi campers. But however you get your stuff to camp (and these days, for storage reasons, Pemi prefers you use duffel bags), there’s something about that summertime ritual of packing that, for me, really captures and symbolizes something essential and wonderful about spending a summer away from home, at Pemi.

Ultimately, you might pack something you don’t need, or leave behind something that you do: and at Pemi, you learn to live and thrive with what you have. For most boys, they’re living away from home for the first time, and it’s a journey that, in the act of packing and leaving and adjusting to life in a new place, is fantastic preparation for all the transitions that happen later in life, like going to college.

–Rob Verger