Adventures at Kiwa Korral

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Adventures at Kiwa Korral
I loved all of the daily adventures as a Brownie at Kiwa Korral, but the few times we got to overnight there were the best. After we had ceremoniously retired the flag, blown out our buddy burners, completed our kapers and hung our mess kits to dry, we’d gather our sit upons around the teepee- or log cabin-style fire. Then we’d toast marshmallows on our meticulously whittled roasting sticks, sing songs, spark wint-o-green lifesavors and share hair raising tales that would intensify every “creak” we’d hear in the forest. One such trip is especially memorable as my sophisticated, petite, New Yorker mother was unceremonious thrown into the role of lead counselor. She bravely pitched a tent and experienced life in the “wilderness” with me and forty other hyperactive campers. She relocated spiders, escorted midnight voyages to the latrine, and narrowly averted being clobbered with a shovel by a generously proportioned, very protective parent who nearly mistook her for an unwanted intruder. The memory both makes me smile and appreciate all of the risks and sacrifices my mother has taken to make my childhood full of fun and adventure.