Me on left, beach cliff 50ft+ over the water, at Pictured Rocks Ntl Lakeshore in the 'U.P' aka Upper Michigan, south shore of Lake Superior. Yes that's a bandana on my head.
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...guy leans out of his pickup window & hisses 'Jewboy' & roars off...welcome to day 1 in Lake Nebagamon, WI...
This is no ordinary story of being fired. In hindsight the event leading up to it were a moral dilemma that I predict you have experienced in your own life.
So: senior year of college my friend told me a few years prior he worked at this camp, which still exists as a boys camp in N. WI, as a 'tripper' meaning on the 'trip staff.' These were camp counselors separate from the day to day, living in the cabin counselors. Trippers took the boys out on camping, hiking & biking trips, generally 5 days at a time. This was real deal camping: tents, powdered food, into the woods, carrying everything, etc. Anyhoots I applied, interviewed (by 4 owners at Hotel Sofitel near Mpls, sample question: 'do you think cocaine is cool?') & was hired. Pay = $100/week (jelly?) + free room & board. The tripper team, 8 of us guys stayed in our own bunkhouse next to the lake. 3 female trippers had their own nearby place.
Very 1st nite, I was chatting with a couple trippers at end of dirt driveway leading to the paved road on the lake. A pickup rolled up, stopped, guy leaned out the window and hissed: 'Jewboy' and roared off. Turns out, Nebagamon is a Jewish boys camp. Or was, back then. I didn't know, nor did I care, then or now. But over my 6 weeks there I learned what it's like to work at a Jewish enclave, with 100s of Jews (it's a popular, also expensive, camp) in rural northern WI next to a tiny town, when I moseyed into town for a haircut or food. Apparently the townies weren't keen on the Jewish invasion each summer.
2nd day: all us trippers packed food & gear for a few days camping in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA). This is a vast protected camping area on the MN / Canada border. It was a good get to know ya trip, make sure we understood this ain't for divas, hoisting canoes on our shoulders to get between lakes, etc. I have 2 vivid memories of that trip:
- Someone brought up a bunch of weed, also booze (wine in a box as no glass allowed up there). We got stoned off our rockers then paddled out onto the pitch black lake to watch the most astounding northern lights / 'aurora borealis' I'll ever see in my life. It was like watching gigantic cartoons in space. Wasn't just me, we were all spellbound.
- I was the last to emerge from the tent in the morn, nastily hungover from guzzling wine, with everyone laughing at me. So, back then I was a snorer, and when I drank it was snoring turbo. I was told this by various ladyfriends over the years. But the reason they were laughing was this: a bear had entered our campsite overnight, and had bolted when they came up to our tent and heard me snoring. That's how loud I snore: I scare bears. For real. I was not a popular tentmate moving forward.
But anyhoots we got back fine. I do recall us paddling in a nasty wind for hours to get back to the van, but you know: nature.
So on to the good stuff. My first assignment, was back to back 5 days trips into the BWCA. Ergo, I'd be up in the woods for 10 days nonstop. We took 3 canoes, 3 ppl each, ergo 2 trippers + 7 kiddos per group, they were middle school age on these trips, ergo early teens. Driving up there, I recall the bus breaking down totally in Duluth, and waiting there for hours to get it fixed. But was fixed, we drove for hours up the north side of Lake Superior to Grand Marais, turned left up the gunflint trail for a couple more hours, then were dropped off. But, funny story, whoever was packing our food, forgot to bring any meat. We would freeze a few pounds of sliced steak so we could make stir fry the 1st nite, which was pretty darn good out in the woods actually. Plus other freeze dried meats. Ergo, no meat for 5 days, harder then it sounds w/7 hungry teens & chili variations on the menu each day. The other memory was my co-tripper, we'll call him Keith from Santa Cruz, one the coolest cats ever, brought weed & we'd do pinch hits throughout the day, and laugh at pretty much everything. But we kept it together for safety, cooking, unpacking, the important stuff.
At the end of the 5 days we met the bus on a lake somewhere to return the campers and get a fresh batch. I got a new co-tripper, we'll call him Pete from Kansas City. Another cool cat. Also, like Keith, like me, a giant Grateful Dead fan. That trip went fine, the meat was remembered. I do recall being ravenous for meat, like a wolf or whatnot. Anyhoots, there was a key event that trip, that could have turned worse but fortunately didn't. So there was a big rule up there, set by the camp, that 1 tripper has to stay in camp at all times, or at least nearby the campers. The other could do whatever such as getting water (had to be done in center of lake to avoid giardia, a nasty bacteria), firewood, whatnot. But, Murphey's Law, for some reason Pete & I sent all 7 into the woods with orders to only return with armfuls of firewood. Pete & I then took the canoe out into the lake to fill the water jugs and get a mental break I guess.
So we're way out on the lake when we hear shrieking coming from the woods. We look at each other and paddled furiously back to shore, practically hydroplaning. The campers were streaming out of the woods and jumping directly into the lake. I figured: bear attack. I also thought: fucking Murphy's law. We leave them alone for 10 minutes out of 5 days and whatever this shit is happens. So, turns out, it was bees. Someone kicked a beehive, or threw a rock at it or whatever, and the bees weren't happy. Everyone was fine, just a bunch of drama, screaming, jumping in the lake. However, turns out, one of the campers, this kid who was quite 'heavy,' was allergic to bee stings. And, he got stung. And, something started happening to him, he didn't feel good. So we had him lie down in the tent and Pete & I talked over options. We of course had first aid kits, and some training when we started working there. Included in the first aid kit were epi-pens, which I think are adrenaline shots, to be used only in a true emergency. We checked in every few minutes. A couple hours later he pulled his shirt up and there was red rash on most of his skin. But he was breathing ok and that was the key for us. Eventually he was tip top, fortunately for all of us.
After my back to back trips, returned to camp. I was told I had been selected to co-lead the most coveted assignment, a hiking trip along Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. This is in the 'U.P.' aka upper Michigan aka the Appalachia of the north, on the south shore of Lake Superior. You can look it up if you're interested in hiking destinations, it's spectacular. My only pic of that entire summer work experience is at the top of this article, during this trip. This trip was tremendous in every way. The campers were awesome company, prolly as these were older kids, around age 16. However, I had one massive problem. 10 days walking in lakes to portage canoes meant my feet were soaked, constantly. Then 2 days later I embarked on several days of hiking w/heavy gear, many miles each day. My feet became horrifically blistered. I brought tennis shoes fortunately, or sandals or something, as I couldn't get my hiking boots on at all. But other than that, super duper trip all around.
Sidebar at some point, my crazy college girlfriend (if you never had one, you've not lived) we'll call Sally, drove up to visit. I think she told me in advance but maybe not, she was like that. So at least for one night she stayed with me in my bed, in a bunkhouse with 7 other dudes, just a few feet away. And I vividly remember shagging at sunrise, whilst everyone was sleeping. Presumably. But I thought then, and now, she sure was bold. And crazy, as outlined earlier. That whole relationship should be a separate blog, the shit we did together, sweet jebus. Let's move on.
Ok, let's descend down the spiral already. It comes in two parts.
Part one:
There was a week long break at some point, the campers cleared out. There was a ridiculous policy that us trippers had to stay within 100 miles of the camp, even though we had several days off. Here's the rub: Pete had Grateful Dead tix, playing at Alpine Valley, the other side of the state, an 8 hour drive. I could and should write a whole other blog about what it was like seeing the GD at Alpine Valley, but not now. So we did the right thing, sat down with the owner who was around 80, and tried explaining how important Grateful Dead concerts were to us. It did not go well. Rejected. So walking out of there we both agreed: fuck that cockshit, we're going. And go we did. Said we were going camping, which was technically true, borrowed a tent and packed up my car and hit the road for about 5 days. We saw either 2 or 3 shows. I do remember after parking we were separated and I was solo for at least 2 days (with 50,000 others). In fact I was sleeping in my car and they were towing them away. Woke up with a tow truck driver tapping my window at 3am or so saying 'ya gotta move it.' So I drove a few miles, still mostly asleep, to a cornfield and pulled over and fell asleep. Of course, now Pete has no idea where I am, all the cars are gone. The last day I rounded a corner somewhere in the campground and literally walked into him. Call it GD karma. So we had to be back at camp at 10am the next day, we were 100s of miles away, and had a show that night (GD shows last hours). Ergo we had to drive all night to make it, after the show. Ergo I did what any normal person would do: I ate a couple hits of acid as the show was starting, so I could stay awake all night for the drive. Ah, youth. So the show is of course transcendent (finished with a Morning Dew that wouldn't end), we meet at the car, now in a mud field after the show and head out. The plan was to trade off driving of course through the night. Alas, Pete choose to fall asleep almost instantly, for the entire night. So I'm on 2 hits, it's a gnarly thunderstorm, and pitch black out in rural WI all night. Outstanding driving conditions. But I drive back all night, pretty much nonstop. Pull into camp around dawn & get a couple hours sleep. I woke to Keith strumming his guitar to Bird Song, an all time excellent GD ditty. Again, karma. Said: man I just heard that live 12 hours ago, he was so jelly, was amazed we went for it, being all lawless like that. Alas, the owners suspected us of going to the show, and Pete & I got the cold shoulder from the owners after that. But, no proof. So I got one more, and to be final, assignment.
Part 2:
Five day bicycle tour. Loaded bikes, carrying all our gear, tents, food etc. These bike trips started from camp, from the 'bike shed.' Some teen ran it, did the mechanics etc, and crucially, conducted an endurance test to qualify riders as eligible to do overnight trips (we carried stuff in panniers ergo bikes get heavy. The test was to ride around the lake, which was around 8 miles around by road. So anyhoots my co-tripper for this final outing we'll call Jill from Boulder, CO. Jill was a very cool, friendly upbeat person, having an affair with Chris the tripper staff leader, who had a steady also at camp. We all found this amusing but couldn't care less otherwise.
Here's where it began to fall apart. Day 1 of our 5 day bike camping trip, it becomes immediately apparent that a camper we'll call Daniel, isn't up for this. First off, he's tiny, like a kid made out of toothpicks. Second, he can't keep up, no matter what. Third, out of the 8 or so campers, half were my size, they were 16-17 years old, basically dude sized. The other half were 12-13, and when you're boys that's a major difference. But Daniel was another level. In hindsight I think he may have had a medical condition, but who knows. What I do know, is he never, ever, should have been on that bike trip.
So what did I do? At lunch day 1, took Jill aside separately and said: 'Daniel isn't going to make it. We need to call camp to get him picked up like we're trained to do.' This then devolved into her being stricken at this possibility, the main theme she repeated over and over: 'he'll feel bad and get teased.' I was adamant. She was adamant. We're 2 hours into a 5 day trip. What would you do?
What did I do? I caved. Didn't want a shitshow with Jill. We distributed Daniel's gear to the other bikes of the bigger guys. I set his derailleur to not shift into his hardest gears which he was exclusively riding in. And we set off. How did that go? Well, shitty. Hurry up & wait, for 5 days. Daniel was presumably embarrassed all day (either Jill or I would trade off riding w/him). Not sure as he never really spoke. But Jill got her way, and that's what we did.
Little did I know that when we were camping in these small towns, one of the campers was finding a payphone, calling his parents collect, and telling them how horrible this bike trip was. This went on daily I was about to learn. Moreover, when we returned, it was parent's day weekend where they visited, and those parents were there, complaining to the owners. But here was the main issue. Day 5, on a long descent, Daniel crashed and broke his wrist. I flagged down a car & hitchhiked to the next town to get a payphone, called camp, they came, etc. So that's what I biked back to, a generally good trip other than this complaining kid and Daniel waiting on the side of the road with a broken wrist getting picked up. And dozens of parents all learning about 'the kid that crashed and broke his wrist.' Jill got there before I did, told the owners god knows what, and the 4 owners were waiting for me to return where I appeared in their office. Their official reason was I didn't stick to the official route, ergo I was fired. That was actually true, I had us detour one day for a few miles, don't recall why. They also said Daniel was at camp to play tennis, and now he couldn't do that, and the parents aren't happy, yadda. Someone had to take the hit, and I was it.
Many many years to ponder back on this, and for me it always comes to 2 items: Jill & I on that picnic bench outside some fast food joint, debating if Daniel could continue the trip. And Jill ignoring the simple reality that he wasn't physically ready for this but rather focusing on his mental well being if he was booted off. And frankly, how classically female that line of thinking is. The whole 'but his feelings will get hurt, reasoning. Well, now his wrist is broken, wonder how that felt, Jill? I also think now: what the fuck was that bike mechanic thinking when he approved Daniel as physically ready for a 5 day loaded bike touring trip? He clearly was green lighting anyone who could pedal in circles and couldn't care less. Maybe he got fired also, who knows.
So, let's say it's you on the picnic bench, 2 hours into the 5 day, arguing with Jill: what do YOU do?
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Epilogue: a month later I received a letter from Boulder, CO. Yes, from Jill. Inside was a 2 page apology. She wrote how guilty she felt about me being chopped & Daniel crashing. I recall tossing it because it just made me irritated. In hindsight I should have been more grown up & written back saying I'm sorry also. And thanked her for being so thoughtful. I also wish I had kept it, I would have uploaded it here for everyone's take, preserving her anonymity of course. But at the time, I was still pissed. This entire event started my philosophy of making decisions, insisting on them, and being accountable for them. I think this is why I despised working for so many fucktard managers: shit judgment + overruling good ideas = bad combo (& broken wrists).