To understand how
White Pine Camp became what is currently a semiannual retreat for us, there is a story that goes back 36 years in my life, and began 34 years before then. It is the story of
Adirondack Swim and Trip Camp, a.k.a. "
ASTC."
ASTC is a lifelong project of Joe Reiners Jr. and his father Joe before him. In the summer of 1944, an overnight summer camp for boys, then called "Adirondack Swim Camp," had its inaugural season. From 1978 to 1982, I got to participate in the unfolding
ASTC story. Most simply put,
ASTC is a place in the forrest on a pond where around 85 boys spent between 2 and 6 weeks during the summer with about half as many adults who weren't their parents. I don't think however that I will be able to fully do justice to the essence of what
ASTC is in this space.
We stayed in simple cabins, the older campers in two or four man tents on wooden platforms. The cabins I stayed in were Pine, Sunnyside, Lakeside, Log, then tent group B2. Other camper cabins were Idlewild, St. Regis and Spruce Lodge, and there were also tent groups B1, A2 and A1. Each of the tents also had a name, but I won't try to name them, many were the names of
46er mountains. There were also cabins for senior staff members who were not among those who stayed with and supervised the campers: Deepwoods and Algonquin. The director, Joe and his wife Alice-Ann slept in the private quarters behind the infirmary. In addition to that, there were a bunch of two man tents, a three woman tent and sleeping quarters adjacent to the craft lodge called the Knoll. Log Cabin and St. Regis were considered luxurious because they had windows, St. Regis also had a fireplace. The rest of the cabins were simple screened-in structures, with roll-down tarps on the outside, just in case of a summer storm. To my recollection, anywhere between 4 and 8 boys and one adult would share a cabin.
I am not sure if I fully remember the normal daily schedule, but it was something like: morning bell, wash-up, breakfast, cabin clean-up, three morning "classes," lunch, "poster," rest period, then an afternoon "class." At this point, I become increasingly sketchy about the details. I think then there was a general hang-out time on the beachfront, then wash-up for dinner, then an offering of evening activities either on the pond, or a group sporting or gaming activity, "midnight" dip (optional), wash-up, quiet time in our cabins, then
Taps, lights out. I am not sure if I have my terminology right here, but I distinguished between "classes" and "activities," as the former were more structured periods of time, which we signed up for in the morning.
The "classes" were a combination of required and optional activities. The four periods of "classes," included swimming (required each day, provided the water temperature was at least 70°F / 21°C) and at least one of the following required classes: Campcraft (later rebranded as "Outdoor Living Skills" or OLS), Canoeing and Sailing. The remaining two periods could be filled with another one of the required classes or any combination of the optional classes including archery, arts & crafts, tennis, sports, riflery (on again, off again, then later cancelled completely) and earth studies. During these class periods, we mastered defined skills and worked to get felt "patches" denoting our level of achievement in any given area.
We were motivated to work toward achievement and to be good campers. The three central rewards we got at camp were these patches, candy bars and trips to the "
Snake Pit." What we learned however was far more than can be measured by any collection of patches. The first thing I learned, as an introverted eight year old, was a sense of independence. Much to my surprise, I quickly recovered from the shock of being loaded onto a bus and sent five hours away from home to this place deep in the woods. The first sign that things would be alright came when I arrived in my cabin, Pine Lodge. One of the departing campers simply said to us, "you're going to love it here." That thought hadn't occurred to me.
Those words have echoed in my mind ever since, and were buttressed not so much by the enriching and entertaining program of activities, but far more by the singularly nurturing environment that was
ASTC. I can't say enough about the impact that Joe Reiners has had on my life. He was respected by all not only as a leader but also as a woodsman, naturist and sportsman. Legends abounded about Joe, told by campers and staff alike. What I believe to be a general truth about leaders certainly applies to
ASTC: great leaders surround themselves with a great team of people. I am hard pressed to think of any other organization I have been a part of in my life, be it a school, university, volunteer organization or company, that had such a consistent group of caring, motivated, dedicated and talented individuals as
ASTC. That is not to say that there wasn't the rare exception to the rule, but at camp you were overwhelmingly immersed in an environment of people who loved what they were doing and wanted nothing more than to share their love and talents with you.
Life at camp was good, but we heard rumors and told tall tales about camps, real and imagined, that were ostensibly better, camps with horses, water skiing, bigger sailboats, where they made your bed and cleaned up after you, served you gourmet breakfast in bed, and the list goes on. Oh, and camps with girl campers. Then again, at our age, we were undecided as to whether that was something to be considered better or worse. Ah yes, the grass was always greener in other pastures. At the same time, we had a deep sense of appreciation of and pride in our camp. We pitied those with the misfortune of ending up at any other camp.
What made the camp's program particularly special and possibly unique was it's combination of in-camp and off camp activities. There are a lot of overnight camps in the United States that have comparable - possibly even "better" - activities offered in-camp. Then there are camps singularly focused on wilderness activities: mountain climbing, canoe trips, sailing trips, bicycling trips.
ASTC had a strong combination of both.
I believe that there were five trip leaders at
ASTC, plus a group of tripping assistants. They took us on overnight tenting expeditions climbing mountains or navigating the lakes, rivers and streams by canoe. The off-camp trips were an institution that evolved over the camp's history, and as they became more central to the camp's mission, the Reiners renamed "Adirondack Swim Camp" as "
Adirondack Swim and Trip Camp." The trips varied in length from a single overnight to five nights. For many campers, these trips were a highlight of the
ASTC experience. I tended to have a love-hate relationship with "tripping," as we called it, not to be confused with psychotropic substances. An all day hike was hard for me then as it is for me now. For the most part, I would bring up the rear of the group. More than once it came to pass that the group got so far ahead of me that they were no longer in sight. It was just me and the unfortunate tripping assistant who got to hike at my speed. The tripping staff must have been masters of motivation as they embedded in me a spirit to continue beyond what I often considered to be the limits of what is possible. More than once, I learned that there is a direct relationship between the difficulty of a journey to the innate sense of reward upon achieving a set goal. More than once, I learned that the journey itself is filled with many rewards both serendipitous and predictable. And, after spending four nights on the trail, coming back to camp gave me a sense of how luxurious life really was there, even without running water or a TV.
These overnight trips started on a revolving schedule and the in-camp population was in a constant state of flux. At times, more than half of the campers were away on an overnight trip, and the camp's vibe would become more intimate and relaxed. You didn't have to worry about your favorite class being filled to capacity, and camp became a quieter place. I always enjoyed this time. When the tripping groups returned, they always brought back stories about their experiences, and they infected us with their enthusiasm.
In addition to the normal camp day and the overnight trips, there were also special days at camp, both planned and unplanned. The planned days included the "Messenger Day Game," "
Paul Bunyan Day," "Fair Day" (I think it was called that), "change day," and visitors day.
On Messenger Day, the camp was literally divided in half. Deep inside each of the sides, there was a large circle that members of the opposing team would try to get to with a "message," thus scoring points for their team. The messages themselves would no longer be considered "politically correct," as they all had military references. I don't remember all of them, but I think they included "rifle," "hand grenade," "tank," and the infamous "A-Bomb." Each had a varying point value roughly correlated to their named object's destructive power. These messages were small scraps of paper that each camper would try to sneak onto the opposing side and into the target ring. While in enemy territory, the opposing side would try to catch you. No tackling was allowed ... this is a strictly nonviolent game. When found in enemy territory, you were caught when your opponent was able to put his arms around you long enough to say "caught-caught-caught." You were then sent to "jail" where you would be kept for a certain maximum period of time which included sitting around and a designated allotment of time when a member of the opposing team could search you for your message. If they found it, the point value of your message would go to the opposing team. All kinds of strategies were involved from lone invaders to attacking in groups.
Paul Bunyan Day also involved dividing up the camp into two groups, the "Loggers" and the "Timberjacks." It was a day full of contests, from fire building, to pie eating (better put "pie wearing"),
logrolling, pancake flipping, log sawing, inner tube wars, canoe races and several others that I am certainly forgetting. In honor of
Paul Bunyan we would dress up and put on charcoal beards.
The unplanned "special" days were dictated by the weather. On particularly hot and sunny days, afternoon classes would be cancelled with the declaration of "Beach Day!" The entire camp would gather on the sandy beach front for a long afternoon of playing in the sand, swimming, sailing, canoeing and kayaking.
The Beach Day had its foil: "Dew Day." Joe never tired of reminding us that "it never rains at Swim Camp, but sometimes we get heavy dew." When it got too wet for a regular schedule of activities at camp, we went into "Dew Day" activity mode. Out on the sports field, they played a game of "Russian Underwater Baseball." A stranger to the sports field myself, I don't remember how they adapted baseball for rainy weather, but think that it might involve a playground ball or be some variation of
kickball. Other activities included games played in the dining hall, including
spoons and blackjack.
Adirondack Swim and Trip Camp concluded it's final summer as a camp for boys in 1984. Since then, they rent out four of their cabins during the summer months and offer a number of activities reminiscent of camp, particularly those on the beachfront. I have visited the camp three times since then. The first visit was an unannounced appearance that I made at a time when I was searching for direction in my life. Joe and Rick were in the process of "putting the camp to bed" for the winter. Joe put me up in Log Cabin, and I spent the evening reminiscing with Joe and Alice-Ann. That would be my last conversation with Alice-Ann, may she rest in peace.
I have returned twice with my wife for an extended weekend, in 2003 and 2004. We had the special privilege of staying in one of the cabins that they don't usually rent out individually, as it has neither sanitary nor cooking facilities. (Of the four cabins that
ASTC rents out, two have a bathroom and two share a central shower house.)
We returned to the Adirondacks again in 2011 and 2013 and were unfaithful to
ASTC both times, not that we wouldn't have wanted to stay there. In 2011, we visited
White Pine Camp for the first time, one pond away from
ASTC's Jones Pond. It was a late spring treck, before
ASTC opened for the summer. In 2013, there wasn't a vacancy at
ASTC for us, alas. In 2015, we will return again to
White Pine Camp for the gathering that is the main subject of this blog. This time, I promise to stop by and say hi to our friends at
ASTC.
As I have mentioned before,
ASTC is one of the two formative experiences in my life. I thank
ASTC for giving me a sense of independence at such a young age, a spirit to take on difficult challenges, an appreciation for nature, respect for other people, a sense of team spirit (a rare gift among those incompetent at team sports such as myself), and a spiritual place to find myself again and again.
