Editor’s Note: All opinion section content reflects the views of the individual author only and does not represent a stance taken by The Collegian or its editorial board.
I knew one thing for certain when planning out my summer: I would not be going home.
Living in the same suburb my entire life meant coming to Colorado State University was my ticket out. Don’t get me wrong — I love my beautiful, outdoorsy town in Northern California, but I’ve always wanted more. I wanted to see more, do more and experience more than my stable, safe hometown could offer. So once I got to Colorado, I wanted to make the most of every second I had exploring this new state. With that came my determination to spend my summer at the CSU Mountain Campus.
However, Mountain Campus wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows right away. I remember how terribly anxious I was as I drove up the beautiful forest service road to Mountain Campus. I had barely been able to sleep the night before due to my nerves, and with each mile I drove, I became more and more apprehensive.
“No one is immune to the issues of real life, but Mountain Campus gave us a momentary escape — a new world with new characters and a new plot that we authored.”
My first evening there, I sat alone in the cabin and ate cold, stale soup as I stared at the wall and cried. I remember how hopeless I felt in that moment, how uncertain I was about the future and how terrified I was of the summer becoming a repeat of my catastrophic first year of college. Little did I know, things were about to get so much better.
I eventually met the other staff as they got off of work that evening, and the night ended with what would be the first of many times playing hacky sack with my coworkers.
In fact, we almost always spent our time off of work doing such things. Being up in the mountains without restaurants, movie theaters or bars meant that during our time off, we had to play pool, jump in the river, watch DVDs or go hiking — and that’s exactly what we did.
Screams and shouts pierced through the silent valley as 20 of us stood in the rickety wooden shack that was the game room. My coworkers were soaked in sweat as they sprinted and slid around the pool table in an attempt to win the game Shit.
We spent rainy evenings partying on cabin porches as the campus band played. The sound of their guitars and keyboards echoed through the valley.
The entire staff dressed up in ridiculous costumes as we tubed down the frigid river and got pelted by rain droplets so fat and cold they stung our skin. The thunderstorm raged loud enough to shake the entire mountain as lightning illuminated the gray sky. We just giggled and squealed as shivers raked our bodies while we raced one another through the current.
We spent late nights curled up on couches, shouting at Bella and Edward on the TV, painting each other’s nails and eating way too much popcorn.
Our arms wrapped around one another as we swayed and sang at the top of our lungs around the campfire, all of us completely drenched. The smell of crackling wood and wet earth filled our lungs and fueled our bodies.
We celebrated the Fourth of July by off-roading up a mountainside and partying on the lakeshore. Campfire-roasted hot dogs and s’mores filled our bellies, and the sound of soft music soothed our ears.
At 1 a.m. we drove up the Poudre Canyon with all of the windows down and the sunroof open, the glow of the full moon casting shadows on my sleeping coworkers in the back seat. My voice was carried away by the wind as I shouted song lyrics and sped through the silent canyon.
I sharply inhaled as the icy water touched every part of my body while I held my coworkers’ hands, and we walked deeper into the inky black water of the quiet lake. The early morning moonlight illuminated the vast wilderness around us, and our laughter echoed over miles upon miles of silent forest as if we were the only people in this vast, beautiful world.
Of course, the mountain campus didn’t grant us immunity to all of life’s problems. There were still times I woke up in a funk due to reminders of what lies in the outside world. There were moments when an unsuspecting coworker would run into me in the hall, tears soaking their cheeks and eyes puffy.
No one is immune to the issues of real life, but Mountain Campus gave us a momentary escape — a new world with new characters and a new plot that we authored.
I remember how nervous I was about the Mountain Campus at first, how intimidating it was to do something so adventurous with little knowledge as to what I was getting myself into. But if I learned anything from this summer, it’s that if you have the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary, do it.
Now looking back, I can’t imagine a better summer. I might have only worked at CSU Mountain Campus for a mere three months, but I will never forget this place and this family. These people who come from so many walks of life who — had we stumbled upon one another on the street — we never would’ve thought to talk to, much less become close friends with. We are now forever united by that one summer we spent in the mountains.
Reach McKenna Van Voris at letters@collegian.com or on Twitter @mckenna_vv.