Summer Creative Writing Contest 2021: ‘The Canovernight’’

The Palisadian-Post is running a selection of winning pieces from the 2021 Pacific Palisades Library Association’s Summer Creative Writing Contest, which featured the theme “Help!” The following piece was penned by Audrey Y. Smith, who was awarded first place in the seventh and eighth grade Scribes category.

The freezing water of Bass Lake splashed at my ankles as I carefully climbed into the sage green canoe, a shade lighter than the surrounding towering pines. The afternoon sunlight sparkled on the emerald-green water and cast a warm golden glow on the lush, wooded Sierra Mountains encircling the lake’s shore. Like a mirror, the water reflected the surrounding Sierras rising up against the sky. I smiled in contentment as the gentle lake breeze cooled my face while the hot July sun warmed my back. There was no place I would rather be.

I had found out that morning that my cabin of six girls would be canoeing to the other side of Bass Lake and sleeping in a forest under the stars—an overnight trip to my sleep-away camp, Skylake Yosemite, called a “canovernight.” After breakfast, I packed my backpack with pajamas, a flashlight, my water bottle and sleeping bag, and headed down the windy path through the woods to the lake along with the rest of my bunk and our counselor and CIT.

This was my sixth summer at Skylake and, after missing camp the summer of 2020 because of the pandemic, I truly appreciated being back. During the seemingly never-ending COVID lockdown, I had pined for the picturesque lake, hiking trips to Yosemite, the camp dances, carnivals, and color wars; but most of all, I had missed my camp friends who over the years had become like sisters to me.

“OK, looks like we’re all ready for our canovernight,” my counselor, Brooke, said while placing her backpack into her faded orange canoe. “This is going to be the best trip!” she added enthusiastically, and we all began paddling across the placid lake, leaving little ripples in our wake. As we paddled, my cabin mates and I talked about books we were reading, music we liked, boys we thought were cute, friends from back home, and the latest CIT drama. We laughed about the bat, the rat and the mouse that had decided to make their home in our cabin. And we discussed more serious issues like the pandemic that had turned the world upside down.

After canoeing for nearly three hours, our group of eight reached the shore and docked our canoes on the sand. Exhausted, we hiked through the forest until we found a small clearing and arranged our sleeping bags in a circle. We played some card games and complained about the swarm of mosquitoes that would not leave us alone. Then our CIT, Daisy, took out her ukulele and played “Riptide” and we all sang along. She handed her lavender ukulele to me, but while I was thinking of a song to play, my cabin mates cried out that it was starting to rain. I looked down and noticed a couple drops of water on my sleeping bag.

Just a light summer sprinkle, I thought.

The clouds cloaking the mountains grew darker, and then the sky exploded in a torrent of cold, wet droplets. The surrounding canopy of Pine trees trembled in the wind and their long shadows traced wild patterns across the ground. My heart sank as the cold, unrelenting rain fell around me. Soaked and shivering, I looked to Brooke and Daisy for reassurance, but both were panicking because their walkie-talkies weren’t working, and they were unable to communicate with the camp.

Then a wet hand took mine and all the girls in my cabin started hugging. We were unsure how long we would be caught in the storm, but we knew we could get through it together. For so long during the COVID quarantine, I had to face various challenges in uncertain and stressful times alone, feeling isolated and anxious. But the power of friendship helped turn what would have been a disaster into an adventure and memorable bonding experience.

“This will make a great story someday,” I said with a smile, “…as long as we survive,” and we all giggled.

It was reassuring to know that I had a sense of humor even in the middle of those dire conditions.

But that’s not the reason I was smiling.

It was because I was no longer alone.