Camp Warren Levis

With the long, sleepless night of our first cub scout camping trip over, I wasn't sure if I'd have the energy to enjoy the day before us.  We had planned on hiking, doing some environmental clean-up, and fishing, but I had also planned on getting some sound rest.  You know how that turned out.

Before camping at Warren Levis, I knew little to nothing about the campground itself.    It's placement in the middle of town worried me. I assumed that we would be staying in a small cabin, fishing in a half-acre pond, and "hiking" on the city sidewalks.  I couldn't have been more wrong...or more impressed.

When we first arrived, I noticed a stone header that read "Swami Lodge."  I thought, Awesome.  I can't wait to meet Chris Berman...and then punch him in the face.  After looking at the photo longer, I realized we were actually staying at "Swaim Lodge."  Not as exciting:

The atmosphere inside the lodge.

The view from our lodge--overlooking the "pond".

  The boy was overly excited about the entire thing:

Then again, it could have been the cake:

Cake which was eaten right before bed.

If the sugar wasn't enough to keep him up all night, I figured the fire-side ghost-stories would be:

The boys were all too eager to go on a hike the next morning.  Pretty sure I was just sleep-walking the entire time.

A canteen for hydration, a compass for orienteering, and a stick for beating me if I fell asleep on the path.

After the hike, we took a journey down to the lake for a little fishing.  It was windy, cold, muddy, the fish weren't biting, and I almost took a hook to the face--several different times.

I was impressed that Caleb picked up his own worm.  He's usually afraid to touch his own dirty socks and underwear.  On the rare occasion that he does, he washes his hands three times afterwards.  With our fish-catching prospects low and our climate tolerance even lower, it was time to head home.  But first, another long hike...uphill...to our car.

My largest complaint about the camping trip is that we never had the chance to play any food sports.  I'm deadly at Egg Baseball and would have taken on any challenger in a Bacon-Eating Contest.

 If somebody went to the trouble of making a sign, I think we owe it to them to hit eggs with a baseball bat.

Lack of food fighting aside, Caleb had a wonderful time, just ask my wife, because she heard all about it when we got home.  He's already looking forward to our next trip.  And I'm already planning on packing the air-mattress and some sleeping pills.