I loved this weekend so much. It was empowering not just to become more capable in the outdoors—handle arrows and guns and overcome anxieties—but to become more capable on my own. I went in not knowing anyone and ended up meeting some wonderful, funny, kind women—all very diverse and interesting. I love to know people's stories, and I heard great stories all weekend.
The camp is up on a small mountain in Pere Marquette State Park, about an hour from St. Louis. The drive up is long, narrow, and winding. We stayed at Camp Piasa (Pie-uh-saw), named after the Piasa Bird that Native Americans painted on a nearby bluff over the Mississippi River. When I got there late Friday morning I signed in, got my name badge and bunk assignment: unit 1, cabin 1. I drove up to the camp and was the first in my cabin. The cabins were very simple and rustic—just a room with four beds and some sort of magnesium light that worked only at night. Bathrooms were down the road, down the hill. I tried not to drink too much before bed, but sometimes the wine just drinks itself.
My first roommate showed up not long after I did—Donna, probably early 50s, from the northwest burbs. She was nice and talked about her boyfriend a lot, how he hunts with a bow and arrow and all the stuffed animals he has in his house. Our other roomie showed up later—Melissa, probably late 20s, also from the northwest burbs. (She also lived in Evanston a few years ago on the same street as I do.) I mostly hung out with them, and three other women: two librarians from Chicago, one, Amber, in her 30s with tattoos up and down her arms, including one of a ham; the other, Shannon, probably in her 50s. I thought they were mother and daughter, but they just worked together. The third woman, Jennifer, was a stay-at-home mom and Girl Scout troop leader, probably in her 30s, also from the burbs. I did meet a lot of other women from more-central and southern Illinois. Southern Illinois is very different from northern Illinois. Much more small-town and rural. People even have accents.
Friday afternoon we had our first workshop. Donna and I had firearm safety together. We sat in a cabin with four other women and learned about the different actions of rifles and shotguns, then practiced loading and firing some dummy shotguns.
That night we all had dinner—it was a group of about 65 total—in the mess hall. The food was actually pretty good. They brought in an outside caterer. After dinner we had craft time! There were several craft stations set up and we could choose to do whatever we wanted. I made a whistle out of a piece of antler. The holes in the bones were pre-cut; we had to whittle a small piece of dowel rod to get it to produce a whistle sound. Later there was an organized owl walk down the road, but Donna and I were tired so we took showers and went to bed.
Saturday morning we had breakfast at the dining hall, then went to our morning classes. Turns out I was able to switch into the classes I had originally wanted, so I went to the archery class with Donna. It was a lot of fun, and I wasn't bad. First we shot at targets, and I was the first one to pop a balloon on the target. Then we shot at deer decoys. I pictured myself bow hunting from a tree stand.
We went back to the dining hall for lunch, then off to our afternoon sessions. A few of the women who had signed up for rock climbing didn't show up, so there was room in the van for me. We drove out to a different site and a husband-wife rock climbing team set us up with equipment. There were two stations—climbing and repelling. I started with repelling. I had been climbing once before in Calgary, years ago, but I was still nervous. Lowering yourself backwards off a 50-foot cliff is scary. I was really proud of the women in my group who were even more afraid than I was, tried it, and loved it. After I repelled once I went to the rock climbing station. It wasn't very high, but still fun to climb. I repelled once more, then sat at the top watching the others repel.
My roommate Melissa had the orienteering class that afternoon, lead by a woman who was on the national orienteering team. They got a little turned around and ended up in some thick grass. A few of the women, including Melissa, got TICKS. She said she picked them all off, but I told her she was still sleeping in her car that night.
Saturday night we had dinner, then there was an auction and raffle to benefit the BOW program. I bid on a camouflage thermos and won that baby. I didn't win any of the raffle prizes, but there were some great packages, like the nine bottles of wine, complete camping set, and stays at parks and resorts all over the state. The auction and raffle were a lot of fun, and everyone laughed a lot.
After the raffle my group of camp friends sat out by the fire for a few minutes, then the owl guide rounded us up for an impromptu owl walk. It was just a small group of us, and we set out down the dark road with no flashlights. The guide would stop here and there to try the owl call, and we heard some owls respond early in the walk, closer to camp, but he was never able to get them to come to us. We kept walking anyway—it was a nice night, and we all craned our necks to look at the stars. The sky was so clear and so big there. We walked back to camp, and Jennifer and I found a big toad by the bath house. He let her pick him up and we looked at him and petted him for a few minutes before returning to our cabins for the night.
Sunday morning we had breakfast and went to our last class of the weekend. I did shotgun. They loaded us in the van and drove us to a big field. There were only six of us, so we got some good shooting time. The instructor was a woman, very patient and observant, and looked like she stepped out of an 80s hunting magazine. She was great. We shot clay pigeons in three different set-ups. The first with them flying toward us, then flying across the field, and finally flying away from us. The first set-up was the easiest, and I broke all but one. The second set-up was the hardest—I didn't break any. Then I broke a couple in the last presentation. I liked shooting. I was nervous at first, but I ended up really liking the feel of it, and the feeling of accomplishment when I hit something. I don't think I could ever kill a real animal, but this weekend gave me a new appreciation of guns and the SPORT of shooting and hunting.
We all went back to the camp for lunch one last time, then headed our separate ways. Back to the city for a lot of us. Back to buildings and sitting at a desk for most of our days.
I was proud of women this weekend—of adventurous women, young and old (and some were old—in their 70s and 80s, one of whom was an avid hunter and had recently shot a ram). It makes me happy to see women being themselves—being independent and doing their own thing. And seeing how passionate I am about this weekend in the woods, I feel even more now that I need a career change. I'm having a hard time adjusting. Being back in a stale office is stifling my Piasa spirit. I want to go back.
Unit 1 camp.
Cabin 1.
Cabin 1 roomies.
Cozy (mine's on the right).
Dining hall and campfire ring.
The road from the cabins to the dining hall, taken from the dining hall.
Dinner, day one.
Crafts!
Archery.
Me with the pink bow, probably knocking out a bull's eye.
The repelling rock.
The instructor setting me up for climbing.
Getting ready to repel.
Our climbing group.
The archery instructor modeling items at the auction.
I snuck a picture of the librarians.
Shotgun! You can see the broken pieces in the air.
View from an overlook on the road to (from) the camp. I'm not sure what river that is. At one point we saw the Missouri River, but I thought it was the Mississippi. So I don't know.
