On the second day of camp at Paradox Lake, N.Y., hours from the nearest metropolis and decent smartphone service, the Colour War came down to the final event.
Two hundred campers – divided into blue, green, red and grey teams – had competed all afternoon to be crowned champion. Balls were kicked and dodged, flags were captured, relays were run and there was even a life-sized game of Hungry Hungry Hippos played with milk crates and tennis balls.
Now the Slip ’n’ Flip would decide the winner. I was up: I looked down the hill at my blue teammates cheering from below. I took two steps back, sprinted, then dove.
Down the slip-and-slide course I went, propelled to the end by my running start. Sloppy and dripping wet, I ran toward the flip-cup table. I chugged back the half-full beer, then flipped my cup once – damn! – then twice – got it! More cheers went up. I did my team proud at adult summer camp.
Blue would eventually rue the day, staring at our last unflipped cup as the green team celebrated as only a group of 50 delirious, victorious adult campers could: With chants of, “Green! Green! Green!” as staff “non-counsellors” sprayed the winners with bottles of champagne and a DJ blasted Fifth Harmony in the background. But really, all 200 campers were winning by then – the Colour War was just the precursor to happy hour, an open bar and an all-night dance party.
“It sounds like my worst nightmare” is how friends reacted to tales from my long weekend spent at Camp No Counselors, one of a handful of adult summer camps that cater to a demographic of largely thirtysomethings: young professionals who want to disconnect from long hours at high-functioning jobs and even more time attached to their phones.
As the camps have grown in popularity – CNC’s Canadian co-founder Adam Tichauer appeared on Shark Tank recently – they’ve also attracted bachelor and bachelorette parties and solo attendees, like me, who are stoked to meet 199 new friends. They vary in location, activities and whether alcohol is provided, but they all promise an escape: Feel like a kid again; rediscover who you are away from the rigours of adulthood.
The setting not only felt like a kids’ camp – it was a kids’ camp. Generally, adult camp organizers connect with seasonal camp operators who run programs for children during peak summer weeks. (At the CNC site in Paradox Lake, 3-1/2 weeks in paradise sets parents back $7,100 [U.S.].) For the operators, it’s easy extra income that fills the calendar before and after their more innocent charges have come and gone.
I tell friends that you had to be there. Just like that party you missed because you were too tired from work, the morning-after pictures from camp are a mess of drinks and debauchery that should be experienced rather than soberly judged from afar.
Up close, who you are at adult summer camp has a strong correlation to your idea of fun.
For the group of data analysts from Manhattan I met on the first night, it was sharing a bottle of vodka – crafty campers brought personal drink stashes – and smoking the little bit of marijuana they brought until 3 a.m.; breakfast was scheduled for 9 a.m. “Isn’t this the best? I’m ready to sign up for next year right now,” said Raymond, who at that point had only been at camp for three hours.
(Tichauer says there is a zero-tolerance policy toward drug use, and outside alcohol is strongly discouraged.)
My bunkmate Jess, who came from Washington with her husband, Damon, and best friend Danielle, could not wait to spend the next afternoon at the arts and crafts table making friendship bracelets and tie-dye T-shirts. Looking for something more our speed, Damon and I went paddleboarding on the lakefront, a prime spot for campers bent on a beach weekend.
Out on the water, we ran into Mike, who looked rather contemplative sitting down on his board.
Was he okay?
“I’m good, I’m just riding a high right now.”
High on what?
“Acid. It’s chill.”
We had a conversation about Justin Trudeau and Canada’s changing marijuana laws before he paddled back to shore. (He left, his friend tells me later, because discussing drug policy was too intense for him in the moment.)
And for me? Playing kickball for the first time since Grade 5 was a rush. So was discovering that I was fit enough to paddleboard without cracking my skull on the shoreline. But I most enjoyed drinking and meeting new people. I was one of the guilty parties who hid beer in their bunk – also discouraged by camp staff – finding that liquid courage made for the best icebreaker. Otherwise, I would not have met Sofonda Cox, her husband and their friends at lunchtime. I was thankful when someone, around midnight, told me her real name was Anna.
Camp, I figured, was less about finding your inner child than forgetting your adult identity, if only for a few days and a crude joke. No one here, not the engineers or lawyers or publicists I met, cared that my most pressing life concern was my upcoming wedding and how you fill out a special-occasions liquor permit. More important was: What are you wearing to the nineties dance party? Oh, a T-shirt emblazoned with Degrassi-era Drake in a wheelchair and an old-school Raptors cap.
I witnessed some of the hardest partying of my life that first night – magic mushrooms, key bumps of coke, bunk-bed hookups – but mere hours later, the sun would rise and few campers missed breakfast. Many had decided sleep could wait until it was time to go home.
Where adult summer camp felt like a glorious success was how staff helped define the sandbox we played in all weekend. Here’s a beautiful campground in the middle of nowhere, here is every summertime activity you could want, here is food and drink. Make friends, party hard, but be responsible.
Over two and a half days, I saw campers do whatever made them happy. No one got seriously hurt besides Jose, who took home a nasty-looking arm contusion after taking a spill wakeboarding, but also the honour of camp rookie of the year for his troubles.
Jess, my bunkmate and a mother of two, took a little longer to find her happy place. I believe she found it around 11:30 the first night, when the caterer began prepping midnight pulled-pork sandwiches as the dance party wound down. As I made my way to the bar for yet another healthy pour of whisky on the rocks, there was Jess behind the portable stove, helping to warm buns and fill them with meat.
“Jess, what are you doing? Why aren’t you on the dance floor?” a non-counsellor asked. “How about we get you on the dance floor now?”
“No!” she said, looking up from the activity at hand, smiling wide.
“This is the most fun I’ve had so far!”
The writer was a guest of Camp No Counselors. It did not review or approve this article.
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Camp No Counselors
The Toronto weekend is in Parry Sound, Ont., June 16-19 ($650 to $699). CNC also organizes late-summer weekends in Chicago, New York, Boston, Austin, Tex., Miami, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Nashville and Michigan ($525 to $599 U.S.).
campnocounselors.com
Camp Reset
A digital-detox-focused camp hosted at the Ecology Retreat Centre in Mono, Ont. July 14-17 and July 21-24 ($539 Canadian). BYOB.
campreset.com
Two Islands Weekend
Held at 1,110-acre Camp Timberlane in Haliburton, Ont., this getaway features gourmet chefs and local craft beer and wine. Sept. 9-11 ($340 to $375).
twoislandsweekend.com
Camp Bonfire
The site at Lake Owego Camp in Pennsylvania is ideal for those coming from New York or Philadelphia. Organizers encourage a gadget-free weekend with designated technology areas. June 10-12 ($499 U.S.).
campbonfire.com
Camp Grounded
A device- and alcohol-free retreat with weekends in New York, North Carolina and Texas. ($595 to $645).
campgrounded.com
Soul Camp
A holistic, yoga-minded camp with gluten-free, dairy-free and vegan-friendly dining options. Two separate weekends are available in New York and California. ($999).
soul.camp
Club Getaway
The stalwart adventure-all-day, party-all-night weekend adult camp, based in Connecticut, is celebrating 40 years. Various dates ($414 to $524).
clubgetaway.com
– Cliff Lee