August 24, 2003
The Aspen Grove Family Camp, looking south-west across the ball-field at Elk Point and Robert's Horn on the "back" of Mount Timpanogas.
Pretty, huh?
The only drawback to this particular camp is that if you're not a Mormon you might feel out-of-place, or at least culture-shocked. In some regards it's kind of like the "christian retreat" campgrounds you might find in the American deep south, but it's not so much about immersing yourself in religion as it is about immersing yourself in the company of people who share your religion.
I worked at Aspen Grove during the summers of 1990, 1991, and 1992, and heartily recommend it for family vacations. The camp has been improved a lot since I worked there, and it's all good.
While I was there I messed around a bit with colored pencils down at the Arts and Crafts pavilion (I brought my own pencils -- they provided the relaxing setting), finished the last two books in John Ringo's excellent "Legacy of the Aldenata" series, and got more exercise walking from place to place than I think I get in a month of daily stints on the treadmill. I threw four pots on a pottery wheel (all using the same lump of clay, and when I say "threw" I mean it in the most energetic, splattering sense), brushed up a bit on my disc golf game, and took lots of pictures. I also caught up a bit with some old friends, including a co-worker from eleven years ago who earned her Ph.D. and had two children since we saw each other last.
The buffer is in a sorry state right now, having dropped to fourteen. Somebody, I won't say who, neglected to crank another seven strips like he hoped he would when you last heard from him. Oh well. I'd claim that there's no rest for the wicked, but I just got a week's worth of rest, so I'm either not as wicked as I thought, or I've found a loophole somewhere.