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Bear Boot Camp report, or, What I did on my Fall Vacation
Usually, we both make sure we are off on the Friday that Bear Boot Camp begins. This year, the company where Ron works was doing some sort of inventory and he had to work, so we ended up getting a late start to Port Townsend. We would have gotten out the door earlier, but we needed to get the house clean for the pet sitter which took a very long time. The house still isn’t really clean, but we cleared enough of a path that she wouldn’t hurt herself and managed to vacuum.
We made it to the ferry dock about half an hour before the 5:30 sailing, but at rush hour you need to be there at least an hour early so we didn’t get anywhere near to boarding. We had intended to have dinner in Port Townsend, but since we were hungry and it was going to be awhile before we got there, we went up to Matt’s Gourmet Hot Dogs (they have turkey dogs!) and got something quick to eat. The Ferry terminal has been completely redesigned to add a food court. It used to be run down and a little on the scary side so that was kind of fun.
By the time we reached the other side of the sound, it was dark. The drive to Port Townsend is a lot less interesting in pitch black.
We got to Ft. Warden just as announcements were happening at the USO hall. The funniest thing was that we would be sharing the dining hall with a scrap-booking group. Last year it was quilters.
Phil and Kyle were there, as well as most of the bearaoke crew (Mike P,
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ursusnoir, Stan and John, Bill, and Brendan and Gary to name few, and of course Jonathan himself) and Wolf and his partner, and Curtis and grrrscribbler (*sigh* he is so cute...,) and the Canadian crew. tbass and his partner arrived a little later, as did Paul and Gregg from Puddletown. There were way more people there this year than in previous years so there were a lot of people that I did not recognize.After the “get to know everyone” game, we head back to the barracks to get checked in and set up our room.
My only real complaint about Bear Boot Camp is the barracks themselves. Ft. Warden has retooled itself as a retreat center, but it is not very comfortable, and for couples the sleeping options are pretty limited. I basically don’t sleep unless I am spooned against Ron, and we both agree that it is not much of a vacation if you have to sleep by yourself in a single bed. Some couples do just that, others share the single bed (I could do that, but Ron would get cranky) and our first year, we roomed with another couple and just slid the bunk beds together to make double beds. The last couple years we have gotten smart and brought our queen size inflatable mattress and just used that. Our sleeping bags zip together and are lined with flannel, so they are super snugly. Now if we could figure out where the leak in the mattress is...
The dorm holds just over a hundred people, but the hot water tanks hold just enough water for about 40, so showers in the morning are a little on the cold side, but that is okay. It is camp and you can always shower later. The facilities annoyance that I really hate is that there is no soap and paper towels in the bathrooms so you have to remember to grab them every time you use the restroom. If we are feeling more organized the couple weeks before camp next year, I am going to buy some for what ever bathroom we end up using and just keep it supplied.
After breakfast Saturday morning, we divided into groups for the morning activity. One of Jonathan’s helpers had gotten a hold of a cub scout spaceship derby track, so our groups had to assemble and paint rockets. Our group had several engineers in it, one who is an aeronautical engineer, so we went really minimal and concentrated on weight and aerodynamics. (Everyone really got into it...I can see why the cub scouts have separate races for the Dads.) Our ship won the actual racing. I don’t remember which one won the best decorated. Proving once again that gay men are not really more creative than everyone else, there was not one, but three rockets carved and painted to look like, well, something other than a rocket.
The afternoon is a hike up to the old bunkers. We usually go, but Ron has been fighting a sinus infection and I have not been sleeping, so we stayed behind to run a few quick errands in town and nap.
After dinner was the military costume dance (for the first half hour, then it was scheduled to turn into an underbear dance.) Gregg had brought extra stuff from his trunk of clothes from when he was in the service, and he gave Ron and I fatigue pants that used to belong to his roommate. We looked really good in them. (Ron says I am not supposed to call military fatigues “adorable!”) I am not a big fan of costume anything, but a pair of pants that are able to make my butt look -that- good is able to change my opinion pretty quickly. (Ron’s butt is cute to begin with so you can imagine how great his looked....) The dance itself was...weird. At least, it started out that way. Ron felt it too, and Phil (who has the entire screenplay of “the Lion in Winter” memorized) was doing “memories of a lost youth at Fire Island” monologues during the first few songs, so we weren’t alone. I can’t pin down what felt off. The dance had sounded fun, so it wasn’t the dance itself that felt weird. I think what hit me wrong was all the glow sticks and disco balloons. It was like we were supposed to be pretending to be 22 year old “Club Bois” when we clearly weren’t. It made me feel old and pathetic. I can’t put my finger on it.
As the dance went on, we all relaxed (and no, the raspberry Absolut that Phil brought was not the reason, I only had one vodka and orange) and ended up having a wonderful time. I had forgotten how much I like to dance. Western two-stepping and Square dancing are all I have done for years and they take a lot more control. Phil and I engaged in a mock battle for Scooter’s affections (Phil: He thinks I’m better looking! Troy: Ha! That’s only because he likes older men...) and engaged in lots of silliness with him. Scooter’s partner and Kyle stayed on the dance floor most of the time, and Ron sat out a lot, his sinuses still hurting pretty bad.
We look forward to Saturday night at Bear Boot camp all year. Since everyone is in one building, and there is no where to go anyway, it is very social and if you drink a little to much, you are close to your room so it is not a big deal. We usually wander from room to room socializing and seeing who is up to what and staying up way too late. This year we had even shopped for Manhattan fixings so we could help other people along.
Unfortunately, the fire alarm kept going off in the barracks (they never did figure out why) so the evening never really took off. We did get to know some of the guys in our hallway better, Rick and Tim are mixed drink conesuers, so we had fun talking to them and we met their friend Mike later on.
The next morning came too early. We have to be out of the dorms by 11:00, but breakfast is 10:00, so that means getting packed and loading the car before heading over to the dinning hall. (As a side note, they fed the bears before the scrap bookers which seemed to me like bad planning in a buffet setting....)
We had not gotten to poke about in Port Townsend on Friday like we normally would, so we stopped there on the way home. The antique book seller had a 1926 printers reference full of type samples. I wanted it very badly but they wanted $165 for it so that was not to be. We did end up finally buying Ron some yarn and knitting needles. He has been wanting to take up knitting for awhile now, so that was fun. Our friend Stuart will be beside himself. He has been evangelizing knitting to us for a good year now.
Port Townsend is a neat place. It is strange to think that it is such an architectural time capsule because it suffered such a huge economic failure so early in its life. All of it would be gone if Port Townsend had actually become the major port it thought it would be. Seattle used to have a Carnegie library and now we have a big glass thing. The same would have happened to Port Townsend’s Victorian buildings.
We were both pretty tired, so after we made a full loop of the downtown, we headed back to Seattle. We saw a pod of killer whales from the ferry, and then we were home.
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I could have done without the balloons and glow sticks at the dance as well, and I'm only 24. So, I don't think it had to do with age. There's just something super annoying about randomly being hit in the face with a balloon while you're dancing. :)
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I've always thought your butt was hot. Ron's too, of course... I hope his sinus infection clears up some week soon.
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aww, shucks...
It was good to see you guys again. Hopefully we'll see ya out next week at CC's.