Camp Timberlake, let me shoot it straight with you. Mondays: overhated, especially a Monday like today at camp. Starting off very strong with one, if not the greatest meal to ever grace the oak tables of the Tuck, French Toast (Capitalized out of respect). Let me set the stage: 7 am wakeup; “O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells!” (Whitman). Groggy, maybe still half asleep. Cinnamon and sugar with hints of milk and sausage patties waft through your nostrils. Awake. Fired up. Let us get this show moving, Camp Timberlake. 

Post breakfast 2 trips diverged in a North Carolina wilderness, and sorry I could not travel both and being one traveler, long I stood (The Road Not Taken, Frost). For as much as I longed to indulge in the adventures rafting called to me for, fly fishing seemed more persuasive. Oliver P took the road less traveled, and opted to swim in a section of the river rafting. Both Pace M and Cruz H rode the bull in rafting as well. Back at camp, Tucker L seemingly volunteered as tribute, achieving his golden bar in the activity of archery. Keeping up the pace, Kenneth C got his 40 yard grouping, with Reed P shooting 5 bullseyes in one round. What a day at the ranges. Ryker R caught a lake at the bass today, and the activity of Climbing heeded the call. 

Sutton G celebrated his 9th birthday here at camp, a momentous occasion that seemingly only happens once in a session 1B. Very proud of this achievement, Sutton then went on to have a great time in climbing, per Brayden C. Black Bears won Sock War last night, though it was neck and neck all the way through. “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same”… “You’ll be a Man, my son!” (Kipling). Keep your head about you Eagles, and Black bears, watch out. Speaking of evening activities, Jake H used the last remnants of his vocal cords to announce tonight’s game: The Battle for Middle Earth. Ring wraiths, hobbits, challenges, a golden ring?! It’s all there reader, do not fret. The pre-game feast was delicious: barbecue chicken was engulfed by camp, and it tasted like the sweet victory of a day well done to everyone.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day (Shakespeare)? Thy would be pretty hard to beat. 

Farewell for now, 

Proud Golden Eagle,

Oldest Eldest Brother,

Canoe Master,

Charles “Poetry” Townsend