The Road

Friday morning we woke up blearily, after the previous night's ghost stories on the porch and seniors' slumber party, to the sweet chorus of Eric's soprano range belting, "GOOD MORNING!" We packed and cleaned for a bit before being informed that Eduardo had our breakfast tacos ready downstairs. There was much rejoicing.

After breakfast we cleaned some more, took pictures with the other groups, had a round of hugs and goodbyes, boarded our trusty van, and departed. It had been a fantastic week- no one really wanted to leave, and no one would ever forget it.

There was some sparring over seating, but eventually we were settled in enough to fall fast asleep. We rolled unconsciously on to Fort Worth, where we roused for a sunny lunch on the patio at the same In-N-Out Burger from the drive in. After that, most of the afternoon was quiet and peaceful- I listened to music while I wrote the post for Wednesday. Amazingly, we made it through Oklahoma City at rush hour without a hitch.

After that, things livened up a bit. We played the song game, in which Eric would say a word and all of us would sing the first song that came to mind containing that word. This developed quickly into our youth group a cappella debut, a recording of which we will play in our mission trip recap on Sunday. Other events transpired which would certainly fall under the protection of the "what happens on the mission trip, stays on the mission trip" rule. Suffice it to say that Eric and Olivia deserve many, many thanks for their patience this week.

We got to Wichita and had dinner at TGI Friday's before driving north of town to the First Presbyterian Family Church Camp.

Let me begin by saying how grateful we all are to Wichita First Pres. for giving us a place to stay. It was very generous of them. I'm sure their camp is a fun place for all of their regular summer campers, and not the plywood-paneled Pandora's box of nightmares that it was for us.

Bare, musty, cobwebbed lodge in the middle of the prairie? Check. Howling wind and random booming sounds in the dead of night? Check. Infernal ventilation machine that made clattering noises like the scuttling of Satan's hermit crab across a chalkboard? Check.

The loft we slept in had two rooms- one with four beds and one with eight, but all but one of us slept in the small room anyway, as it had only one door through which the murderers could enter. We slept two and three to a bed despite the heat. Only Austin, who was either very brave or very determined to be the sole survivor of the Kansas Chainsaw massacre, slept alone in the adjoining room. Perhaps he had the right idea, because just as we were all bedding down and establishing our watch shifts, Eric came back from showering and shaving. He stood in the doorway with a disturbing grin on his face and said slowly, "Hello, children. There's candy in the van." His beard was gone, but he had left a thin, creepy, Steve Buscemi-esque mustache on his upper lip. 

It was a sleepless night for some, but we were all grateful simply to be alive in the morning. We loaded the van and got the heaven out of there (or is it just Iowa?).

- Jake