Year 9 Camp

Bourke Street becomes a mad scramble as 108 Year 9 girls board the two buses bound for Glenworth Valley. As the scenery changes from city streets to rolling hills, stories are shared, lollies are scoffed, and memories are made. At 10am, we reached our campsite for the night. We are sorted into seven groups, we meet our group leaders, we set up tents. Lunch is a furious frenzy of salad wraps and leftover bus trip stashes. We are welcomed to the site by Traditional Owners, who tell us stories of the past, and advice for the future. Then the activities begin – first up a three-hour hike to the top of Mount Olive. The sun beats down hard on our faces and sweat drips through cotton as we push ourselves further, higher. Several ant bites and a swollen ankle later, we reach the top. We write letters to our Year 12 selves, trying to capture exactly how we felt in that moment. It will definitely be interesting to read them back in three years’ time…

That night, we gathered ceremonially around the Trangias, cooking our dinner and telling stories of the day. We roll into bed, thoroughly exhausted from the day’s efforts. Not exhausted enough, though…the next morning we crawled out of tents, weary from lack of sleep (two words-bird noises) and ate our breakfast in companiable silence. By 8am, we had set off once again, chatting and laughing in the sun as we made our way to the river. Canoes are dragged to the river’s edge as we climb aboard, all too carefully as to not fall in. We paddle until our arms ache, stopping for a snack and racing back to the shore. In the afternoon, the events that occur will now be formally known as The Mountain Biking Expedition From Hell. We stumble back to the campsite, our knees bruised and bloody, well and truly worn out. We play cards, eat our dinner and gather around the bonfire. At 9pm we are ushered into our tents. We crash, eager to sleep away the day’s endeavours.

In the morning, we painstakingly collapse our tents, shove our sleeping bags into their covers (do they shrink overnight? Why are they always so hard to get back in the bag?) and set off to our final activity of abseiling. Though many pushed themselves (literally) and reached the bottom of the cliff, I was quite content with being everyone’s photographer after seeing the drop. On the way back from abseiling, we froze in shock as a stampede of horses began running towards us. Despite being told to be quiet and stay still, the adrenaline of it all was too much and we ran into the bushes, screaming in fear. Eventually the horses lost interest in us, realising that we were merely a group of overly terrified private school girls and not, in fact, of any appeal to them. When we finally reached the campsite, we were all grateful for the opportunity to dip our feet in a nearby river, ridding ourselves of the past three days of mud. Before we knew it, everyone was clambering onto the buses once again, drained and ready for a shower.

Many thanks to Ms Bloomfield for making this all happen – it was quite an eventful three days and none of these stories could have been without your amazing organising of our camp!

Josie Grayden
Year 9 Student