It all began some 72 hours earlier.  Roos, Mullen and McCarthy, afraid the weekend would start without them, arrived at noon to play a round of golf.  This would be the most civilized activity they would engage in all weekend.  Ames, Hartmann, Capellano and Lawson, also afraid of missing out on something, arrived mid afternoon to play tennis and/or bike, but alas, it began to rain, and, feeling that the weekend was starting to slip away, they drank, bowled and played pool instead,getting the entire Friday schedule backwards.

By the time the Hash began at 6:15, the remaining campers had arrived and changed into running outfits that would soon become unrecognizable.This hash was short, but not sweet.  As usual, the hare, Gyrator, lulled everyone into thinking that the run would be long and hard (what a surprise).  However, when the FRB's *  had blown through the first half of his course in about five minutes, Gyrator grabbed the bag of flour and took off, vowing to get even.  What followed made the June '98 Dewitt hash look like a walk in the park.  After joking, singing and downing a few OV splits at an unplanned beer stop, the hashers took off after Gyrator only to find themselves hip deep in foul smelling swamp muck.  The screams could be heard for miles as hasher after hasher "went down." Once "home", alert hasher 6x3, looking for a car wash, found a hose around back of the Pine Tree, which allowed the "Swamp Things" to rinse off enough to be allowed inside for dinner.

Bowling, pool, dinner,beers followed, in some order, I suppose, and then we headed for camp. A few campers, some rookies, others who had forgotten, thought that it was time to go to sleep.  The rest of us took cabin C-5 by force, setting up the coolers, sleeping bags, snacks and Trivial Pursuit.  A riotous game ensued, mainly due to the absence of Bruce Laidlaw, who had gone to bed anticipating the 4:00 a.m. delivery of the Watertown Daily Times. Kenya Day arrived about three hours later, again early, due to the new male bonding ritual developed by Ray Karaffa.  The women began emerging from their cabin at about 7:00.  "Sunshine" Hartmann showed us how she earned that nickname, so I made coffee.  We began the first run at about 7:30, got back about 1/2 hr. later.  Lawson and VanBoden off to parts unknown.

Back at camp, got ready for breakfast.  More coffee. A couple of campers snuck off to take a shower, which is strictly prohibited on Kenya Day, and which could be met with a penalty of at least one running lecture if you were caught. After breakfast, Bocce, the newest camp activity, began at "the bowl." Ames and Baker held an incredible eight point lead and had actually won the game until Smith (Old Age and Treachery) changed the rules and extended the game to 15, whereupon he and Lawson were able to take the lead and win by 2.  The bocce match could have easily taken over Kenya Day, without complaint, until someone shouted "It's time for the dunes." Off to the dunes for a few hill repeats.  This workout gets hotter and harder every year.  Won't speculate as to why.   Bracing themselves for the Smitty, the campers descended the slope.  Ames and Stamboly led off, leisurely approaching the incline, and made it to the top.  The others raced appropriately, and everyone turned in respectable times except Ames, who was forced to run it again accompanied by a tireless Stamboly.  Thanks, Mikey. Lunch at the rocks belied the fact that this was Kenya Day.  Most of the campers behaved like, well, this was a day at the beach.  The cool water gave welcome relief from the hot sun and unspeakable foot odors. Hartmann re-lived one of her experiences cliff diving in Spain, but forgot she was really at Singing Waters instead of the Mediterranean, and she injured her neck when she dove off the "cliff". . .  And there's something that takes your breath away when you see Dave Mullen silhouetted against the sunlit sky, standing on the "cliff", showing off his marathon physique as he jumps into the rushing water. After digesting a light yet flavorful lunch of fruit, green salad, and couscous with roasted chicked "wraps", we were once again reminded, this time by the camp director, that this was running camp, and if we didn't start the last run of the day, we would miss Happy Hour at the PineTree.  A few campers who had been in the sun too long suggested a fourth run on Kenya Day, to commence at midnight at the Golf Course.  Something about a B.A.M.

We made it back to the Pine Tree, with the casualties riding in the support vehicles ( you know who you are), only to find, in a cruel twist of fate, that the Pine Tree was hosting a wedding reception and alas, we were not invited.  Forced to go another 1/2 mile to camp, the Kenya Day Survivors tirelessly pursued their ultimate goal:  a shower. The restorative powers of soap and water, beer and Bocce never cease to amaze.

The evening edition of Bocce brought newcomers Laidlaw and Rooswho, professing never to have played the game (yeah, right), proceeded to kick everyone's butt.  The game was interrupted by cocktail hour and dinner at the Coach Lite, which was superb and was inhaled by the hungry lot. Showered and fed, with all mental powers restored to their former degenerate state, the happy campers rejected the idea of "going out on the town" in favor of another round of Trivial.  This time Laidlaw graced us with his presence.  Capellano immediately fell asleep, followed by Smith.  Another riotous match.  Since it was still early (before midnight), we tried another game:  Tri-Bond.  To play this one,simply figure out what the three clues have in common, such as the following:  1)Karaffa; 2)Mullen/McCarthy; 3)Ames. Sunday morning, 9:00 a.m.  Off to the horse trails for a steady run, 50 min.  Hartmann turns back because she can't turn her back, her neck is too stiff.  Mullen follows with hamstring. They're dropping like flies.

Brunch at the Brantingham Inn.  Laidlaw settles in with his Sunday Watertown Times, as talk turns to the proposition that there maybe life after running camp.  Roos and Ames hand out awards ( Smitty,Slippery Slope, Weenie, Endurance, Nit Wit, etc.) Everyone got an award for doing something notable during the weekend.

Just as they had come, so they left.  Some went North, others South.Some just needed space.  All agreed, however, that the experience had brought them all closer:  closer to God, closer to death, closer to giving up the sport all together.  Until next year. . .      Sharon Ames