Roughing It

Like many other city boys, I went away each summer to a sleep-away camp, in my case one of the oldest ones, founded in 1904 and tucked away in the Adirondacks on the northern shores of Lake George.  One of the counselors at that camp was also a teacher at the all-boys school I attended, so a fair number of boys went there.  I started going in 1968, at the age of 8.  I guess the rationale was that if I could survive second grade, then I could survive two months in the North Woods. Continue reading