Yawgoog Day 1

We almost did not make it to Boy Scout camp today. The morning started well enough. I woke up early, took a walk, said goodbye to Kati and then got in the car with G3. After stopping for coffee, we picked up two other scouts, met up with the troop and then headed off to Yawgoog Camp. This camp has a great deal of sentimental value for both me and G3. Thirty years ago, this is the Scout summer camp my brother attended with his troop. My father went with my brother as a chaperone. Last year, when the troop was planning trips for the year, G3 recommended this place. He wanted to be able to go to a camp that his grandfather loved. Needless to say, I wanted to come for the same reason.

Things were going smoothly until my car smashed into a guardrail. I honestly can’t explain what happened. I was moving along steady until my car seemed to hit something in the road and it jerked harshly to the right. I tried to steady it but failed. Fear raced through me upon impact. Twenty-six years ago, my best friend was killed in a car accident when her drunk brother slammed into a guardrail. I looked around in a panic fearful that G3 or another scout were hurt but Libby, my friend, and Dad must have worked to keep everyone safe. No one was injured. I was terribly shaken.. But G3 was a great support. He kept me from completely breaking down.

The police showed up, wrote a report and I called parents to let them know what happened and that everyone was ok. The cop deemed the car unsafe to drive so he called a tow truck. I called the Scoutmaster to let him know what had happened and to see if someone could come get us. We were only an hour away from camp.

By the time everything was tended to and the truck towed us to a shop nearby, we only had to wait an hour for one of the leaders to pick us up. She was really kind to do the extra driving.

Of course I also called Kati. She wanted to drive up to be with me, but unfortunately we couldn’t find any cheap hotels for the night. It was disappointing because I could really have used a hug. She would have still come up, but I insisted we save the money.

It’s not like we won’t be paying for this for a long time between an increase in insurance and the possibility of needing to buy a new car. She will drive up next Saturday to take us home. After making sure I was okay, she called insurance for me since I was so shaken and still had to focus on getting the boys to camp.

It was roughly a quarter after six when we finally reached the campground. So far it seems like a nice camp with a scenic location right on a lake. I am sharing a platform tent with two other female leaders who have thus far been great company. Conversation helps alleviate the anxiety I am feeling, though I am still shaking badly. Our tent is somewhat removed from everyone else’s—just a few steps away from the lake—but not removed enough. We can still hear the boys who are so incredibly loud. And I forget my ear plugs. I was planning to go look for some tomorrow. Now, without a car I am condemned to no sleep all week.

We had pizza for dinner and I am now on my cot. It’s not really camping if you aren’t on the floor.

My car was really beat up. The entire side was damaged. Now I have to wait to find out if it is fixable or totaled. Never mind the noise of the boys. I suspect my anxiety will have its way with me tonight and make sure I get no sleep. I am distraught in part because this is the car Dad bought me the year before he died, the car I drove him to the hospital in when he had COVID.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be better than today. Dad and Libby, thank you for watching over us and letting us survive.