The first humans on Earth were born around 2 million years ago. The Neolithic revolution began around 12,000 years ago. Since then, humanity has never looked back. Inventions, innovations, and, most importantly, civilization, has evolved to the status it is today. Yet, oddly enough, a favorite pastime certain people have developed is trekking through the untouched wilderness, guided by nothing more than a crudely nailed blaze on trees along the trail.

Cary Academy students have been very fortunate to have this opportunity available to them, with two trips offered each year for all Upper School students. The first is in the fall, and the second in the spring. Each trip is four days and three nights.

We began the spring trip with a bright and cheerful sky shining down upon the fifty-something people stretched along the trail. The view was beautiful: rolling mountains, sprawled out all across the North Carolina mountain range. Though ferocious wind blew savagely across the terrain, the blue sky was enjoyed fully, for we knew exactly what lay ahead.

Rain.

But, for the moment, we sat in the waning light of the afternoon sun, munching on the chewy raisins and buttery peanuts, alone in the chirping woodlands.

Surrounded by the oily darkness of night, two fires roared heartily, basking those huddled around them in a soft light and an inviting warmth. Hot dogs rested, impaled on a twig, over the flames, crackling merrily as their skin seared and crisped. Loud voices drifted from each hearth into the fading light, the moon glittering coldly above.

Soon, the first course gave way to the second, savory in exchange for sweet. Utensils were put away as packs of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate were ripped apart. Those with patience roasted the fluffy pillow of sugar high above the fire, rotating their dessert to achieve an even sear around the entire marshmallow.

However, most held no regard for their marshmallows nor their health, as one could observe flaming little fireballs of charred carbon being lifted out of the crackling, searing heart of the fireplace and people blowing aggressively as they sandwiched the little lumps of coal between two graham crackers and a piece of chocolate.

Delicious.

The next morning, we awoke to the pitter-patter of rain. It was nothing too worrying, and most of the outdoor enthusiasts remained dry. After breakfast, the rain stopped, and we prepared to leave camp. Today, however, the weather was not as beautiful as the first day. Clouds loomed and sunlight waned. However, spirits remained high despite the misty drizzle beginning to settle, as the landscape stretched before us retained its majesty even with the dreary weather padded above us.

However, that night, disaster struck.

The prophesied rain began to descend, seeping through rain tarps and oozing into sleeping bags. Cold bit at our skin, gnawing through our bones.

That morning, we were unable to start a fire. The polar bear plunge (a voluntary submersion of oneself into the frigid torrents of mountain streams) which was scheduled for that day was canceled, as there was no way one could become warm again crawling out of the cold rivers without either sunlight or flame. The mood within the camp was miserable. Many remained confined to their tents, reluctant to venture into the downpour even with their abode soaked thoroughly through.

Not all was lost, however. This was only the beginning to the day.

A small trek was organized to a nearby waterfall in order to keep people warm. Though it was bitterly cold, the rushing water and sprawling rocks lifted the mood tremendously. Furthermore, once we returned, the rain ceased! We begin our trek once more.

That night, sunlight finally broke through the misty clouds, revealing azure sky peeking through the blanketed canopy. Spirits were high as sleeping bags and sleeping pads were hung up to dry, and one could hear light chatter drifting through the camp as people sat down to refuel and socialize.

However, the calamity had not yet concluded. Once it came time to start the fire, people crowded around the hearth, waiting eagerly for the flames that accompanied them the last two nights to rise once more. However, only disappointment was served. The once dry sticks were soaked to the core, unable to be lit. An abundance of methods were utilized to try and coax out even a small flame, being lighters, sunscreen, and toilet paper, but each proved to be of no avail.

Dinner was eaten in the bitter cold, hot water being the only source of warmth throughout the entire camp. However, while the others rested, the leaders persisted tirelessly to draw out a flame, and finally, because of Max Li’s mini fan, success was achieved. In no time at all, a roaring flame was built; it not as strong as we would have liked, but amazing nonetheless.

And then, finally, morning came. It was the last day. Sunlight filtered out across the camp, raindrops shimmering like jewels in the early morning sun. The only obstacle between us and the buses was a few river crossings, which we tackled with an unparalleled vigor. Amazingly, a suitable place to have a make-up polar bear plunge was found – the cold, rushing water looked so inviting in the golden light.

Pure joy surrounded the buses as they came into view, relief flooding through the tired bones of fifty-something Cary Academy students.

No food had ever tasted better than the exquisite culinary creations presented to us by Cracker Barrel (not for free, of course), and no water tasted clearer than the kitchen tap filling our cups.

It was an unforgettable experience, for so many reasons both good and bad…totally not more bad.