Recurve... Camp Manakin

Thanks to all of you that have called, emailed, or mentioned your shared love of Camp Manakin after I mentioned it in a previous post.

It's nice to know I'm not the only one who thinks it's perfectly normal for a child to pursue in the course of a day: archery, riflery, survival swimming (Remember that? What a scream! We had to 1. tread water for 5 minutes and 2. blow up our jeans and shirts into floats, and no this was not some fundamentalist training camp!), riding, Hardyball (remember Hardy ball?), knife games and... oh yeah, crafts.

And the FOOD! Remember those long, long tables? They put Hogwarts to shame. Remember the butter and baloney fried sandwiches? I was always the kid everyone passed their pickled beets down to... and Evelyn scolding everyone? (She's in the picture above, I'm leaning against her... Gosh I loved that woman. Somehow I always ended up in the kitchen with her, where no one else was allowed to go, but she'd sit me on a stool and I'd "help" her and she called me "Little Kate" even that was not remotely close to my name.)

Long days spent fishing, walking through the woods to another activity, playing mumbly peg while we waited our turns... and we all had Indian names that indicated our tribe.

On rainy days we'd gather in the lodge to hear (very dramatic) TALL TALES... there was one Coach Hardy always told- Jack and the Beanstalk. Sure you've heard Jack and the Beanstalk. But NO ONE could tell a story like Coach Hardy. I don't think I ever heard that man NOT tell a tall tale. Then my uncle Fred would lean lazily on the porch & strum his guitar, playing Walbash Cannonball and '40s bluegrass on his banjo...

Those were days when summer was endless, days were long, and friendships were forever.

"Oh we like to ride the bus on the way to Manakin,
Oh we never make a fuss on the way to Manakin.
So we sing a merry song with a merry, merry tune-
On the waaaaaaay to Man-a-kin:
Oooooooooooooooohhhh!
Hooray, hooray for Mr. Hardy!
Hooray, hooray we're never taaaaaaaaaaaardy.
Hooray, hooray for where we're goin' and we've been, and Hooray For Man-a-kin! Hooray!"



So, it won't surprise those that have contacted me regarding our shared enthusiasm for Camp Manakin that I have decided to take up archery again.

I got the itch last year, and, when stepping in to the big sports stores, was completely put off by the compound & cross bows.

No, I wanted the old longbows I recalled from my childhood. No matter what my cousins said, I was determined.

But I also wanted to have the option to use it hunting eventually, as there is quite an overpopulation of deer in our area.

So, after much thought... I've gone recurve.

I bought a gorgeous old Fred Bear "black bear" recurve... and it sits to my left, next to the computer in my office... inspiration for a mom, business owner, wife- chained to her desk, her children, her life... to break free soon.

Just for a little while, to do something on my own, by myself, aiming at leaves as they blow across the field, gaging the wind, the distance, the speed, to slowly sharpen my aim and strength, to then teach my children the quiet, the concentration, the beauty of archery.


P.s. If this interests you, then here's some summer reading:
The Witchery of Archery, by Maurice Thompson, 1879.

P.p.s: So many people have emailed or sent comments on Camp Manakin that I dug up a few more pictures and added them... hope you enjoy.

 

At the Bay... Reminiscing on Mumbly Peg.

We are at the Bay.
I consider, and voice, "I think L. is about old enough to have his first Swiss Army knife!"

My husband launches into his European childhood memories of being not allowed to own or play with knives.

"Yeah, but you didn't grow up in the south.
When I was his age I was an ace at playing mumbly peg at camp!"

Which neccessitated an explanation on how to play mumbly peg.
And that at camp we not only played mumbly peg, but our activities were:

"M-a-n-a-k-i-n, that's the way ya spell Man-a-kin!
That's the place where we have our fun:
Rowin' our boats and shootin' our guns!

Now the meals are fine
and they taste just right.
Keepin' us strong and feelin' sprite;
We're so sad when the bell does ring: we must leave Camp Manakin.

But that's not all there's something more:
The next day comes and spirits soar-
Archery, crafts, and then there's more:
Camping, swimming 'till about four!

Ohhhhhh M-a-n-a-k-i-n, that's the way ya spell Manakin! That's the place where we have our fun, rowin' our boats and shootin' our guns!"

Not only was I a champ at knife games, we all were! Every kid had their knife, and we played mumbly peg to pass the time during those long, lazy afternoons where we sought shelter from the heat under old trees and poison ivy-infested woods.
Because... well, we had time to pass.
What children have lazy days now?

Hmmmm.
Now I could use my Beretta knife I always have by my side, but that's just not the same.
So tomorrow off to the hardware store I go, searching for knives.

And a nice long summer teaching and playing mumbly peg.