I still remember my first Summer Camp with the Boy Scouts at El Rancho Cima.
I volunteered to be a rescue dummy for lifesaving training.
Texas gets HOT in the summer.
When I think of camp, I think of it in the mountains of Central Utah, where it’s seldom ever too hot or too damp. It’s chilly at night, and there are the thunderstorms, and the occasional bear and mountain lion, but camp was always fun.
I liked it when we would go for a picnic at the reservoir named after my family. It was a beautiful place, and my dad painted a picture of part of it. The southern end, maybe. Thing is, I don’t have the painting. He gave it to his sister so all I have is a photo of it.