Before you scroll, a fair (silly) warning about the photo below.

It's a grown man who runs a summer camp, taped to a tree, wearing most of an ice cream sundae. Ketchup and mustard included.

That man is me.

Smiling like it was the best evening of my summer, because it kind of was.

Let me explain how I ended up here, and why it matters more than it looks.

How I Became a Sundae

It started as a prize. After Gold Rush, kids take their winnings to Casino Night and bid on things like a movie night or an ice cream run. This year we added a new one. Tape Jack to a tree and turn him into a sundae.

Grabbing the supplies, I saw the ketchup and mustard and figured, why not, that’s funnier. Two bunks of sophomores won it, and as you can see, they went all in. Check out the full buildup here.

When else does a kid ever get to do this to a grownup?

All year, adults tell them where to be and what to do. Then one afternoon they get to tape the guy in charge to a tree and hose him down with condiments. It is gloriously, completely backward.

Which is the whole appeal.

What the Tree Is Really About

The tree is just the loudest version of something that happens quietly here all day long.

Most of what we do as adults at camp is out front. Running the activity, calling what’s next, leading assembly. That part matters. But it isn’t the part kids go home talking about.

The moments that stick are the ones spent alongside them. All day, counselors are sitting cross-legged in the grass over a friendship bracelet.

Or playing one-on-one carpetball during rest hour.

Or jumping into the Nuke-em game instead of refereeing from the side.

My version happens to be getting taped to a tree. A counselor’s version is all of those, and a whole lot more.

Kids can feel the difference between what an adult HAS to do and what they choose to do. Leading assembly is my job. Getting turned into a sundae is not, and clearly not in the job description.

Because the kids know I didn’t have to, it lands differently. It tells them I want to be here, and that we want summer to be more than just the schedule.

People sometimes worry that goofing around like this costs you authority. I’ve found the opposite. It deepens the connection, and it makes the harder moments, like a tough conversation or a homesick night, so, so, so much easier to sit in together.

Why Long Summers Matter

This is also the case for a long summer. Connection at camp happens fast. The depth is what accumulates, built one bracelet and one carpetball game at a time.

More weeks together mean more of the big, loud moments. It also means far more of the small ones. Give it enough days and the alongside stuff stops being occasional and becomes the whole texture of the place. You don’t rush your way there. You spend the time.

So that’s the story behind the photo. A grown man, taped to a tree, wearing a sundae.

It might be the most ridiculous thing I’ll do all summer. It’s also one of my favorite parts of the job. It’s me trying to tell a couple hundred kids, as loudly as I know how, that there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here right now. All summer.

You got this,

Jack

P.S. Visiting Day is July 18, and I can’t wait for you to see this place mid-summer. Watch your inbox this week, too.

This is always a big weekend at camp, but this year we’re especially excited, and you’ll be among the first to hear it.

114 Eagle Pond Rd, Wilmot, NH 03287
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