Last weekend I spent 3 nights in Austin, Texas. Kinda. I flew into Austin and then hopped on a bus full of soon-to-be drunk coeds. No, this wasn't a weird sorority initiation. In fact, at 25 I may have been one of the youngest people there. Where was I headed? CAMP NO COUNSELORS BABY. The brainchild of two friends that wanted a fun weekend away with some buddies and saw it take off into a 90 person event. Camp No Counselors has expanded with 13 camp locations statewide and even a few in Oh Canada!
Now, what possessed me to think this would be a good idea? My version of camping is forgetting to bring my own pillow to The Fairmont. Sharing a 15 person bunk with complete strangers? I would be asking myself if I had woken up in a European hostel with my spleen removed. With CNC the feelings of what the fuck have I done, came in at about hour 1 of the bus ride. A sweet little blonde girl asked for a drink cooler and announced to the bus "I'm REAL country I’ll pee in anything".
We arrived at camp at around 10PM and went to our respective bunks which were surprisingly really nice. Things were looking up. The next morning I headed to the dining hall, grabbed a coffee and allowed the feelings of social anxiety to work their magic. People had begun to sign up for the weekend's activities ranging from the infamous Blob to kickball to yoga. While finishing breakfast someone came up to our table asking if we had heard about "the guy". You know... the guy who got so wasted he pissed in someone's suitcase.
It was 10 am and the alcohol was already flowing and I looked around to get a better sense of WHO these people were. What I'd find out was that the majority of people here had been to CNC before. This wasn't their first rodeo. Most weren't even from Texas, and had come from around the country meeting up with friends for their annual camp reunion. It was kinda sweet.
The big rule at camp. is to not talk about work. So, when we were on “The Friendship Walk” getting to know each other, fun questions were asked instead. "Would you rather have time or money" Time won't buy me a Birkin. My personal favourite was "Tell us your best pick-up line" to which one girl shouted, "HEY, Wanna fuck?" I can't make this stuff up.
Throughout the weekend I took advantage of people's drunkenness mixed with my Canadian charm to figure out what everyone did for a living. Call it intuition, but I refused to believe all these people were in fact, the cast of Wet Hot American Summer. Although, I did meet a Hollywood actor who had been to 2 other camps, a nurse, police officer, teacher, former Playboy Bunny, and many a people who traded their business suits for cut offs and beer stained t-shirts for the weekend. I didn't get it. But then I did.
Slowly, my attitude began to shift. I don't think I was aware of when or how, maybe it was the energy of the other campers mixed with the taste of warm Shocktop but I started to get into it. The second-night party was PJ themed, and I actually decided to participate. Pigtails and all. Campers take their theme parties seriously. There was one guy who came dressed head to toe as Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs with lotion, pail, stuffed dog, nipple rings and his junk tucked between his legs!
The last day/night of camp was like a revelation. We had been put into color teams and would go through something called The Apache Relay, 4 teams of 50 people would battle it out for camp glory. What you need to realize is that I have NO CHILL when it comes to wide games. Unlike my fellow campers I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all day to get ready for this! I was hydrating like a mother fucker. Long story short, I killed it in the 3 legged race with Lexi, a crossfitter who I scoped out from Day 1. Mama don't play when it comes to childhood sport!
The end of the relay is finished on a slip and slide and staying true to CNC fashion there is a game of flip cup at the end. I passed on the slip and slide because grass up the VAG isn't a good look and snuck back to the cabin to prepare for the final theme party of the weekend. The final night at all CNC camps ends with a Talent Show. It was fun to see my fellow campers show off a talent greater than killing it at beer pong.
After some sentiment it was time to get turnt. And turnt did we get. Without going into to much gory detail, I returned to my cabin at the wee hours of 4am... panty-less, and with the modern day version of leprosy growing on my left foot. Did I do camp right, guys?
Final thoughts? CAMP WAS FUN!! Once you get over the initial shock of what you are about to embark on for the next few days..you will build memories you will want to relive over and over. We all shared something that weekend, whether it was winning at Capture The Flag (go green team), dancing to Shape of You, or swapping bodily fluids.... deep connections were made. Real deep. CNC allowed everyone to be and to do what they wanted (although pissing in suitcases is frowned upon) If you wanted to lay by the lake all day, relive the childhood dream of not being picked last for dodgeball, or hook up with an all American cowboy, you totally could. CNC is whatever you want to make it, and I kinda like keeping my options open.
