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Writer's pictureThe Makeshift Review

A Childhood Tour

Updated: May 12, 2021

By Carina Diggins

 

If you were to ask me where I am from, it would be difficult to answer because I’ve lived in four different towns, six different houses, and two different states (not including college). However, if you asked me where I grew up, the answer would be Alaska. I spent seventeen years there, ten of which were at a Bible camp where my parents worked as missionaries. Between the months of May and September, we lived there and hosted weekly camps for different age groups. My best friend and I spent every waking moment together, exploring the vast property of Echo Ranch Bible Camp. I have a thousand memories from those years and each individual place we explored as children has become hallowed in my mind and my heart.


Wild Strawberry – The earliest memory I have of me and my best friend is set on a little bump of ground we dubbed “Strawberry Hill.” The other kids didn’t really understand our love for the knoll. However, Naomi and I spent our most heartfelt moments there. It was located in the center of the camp – like the tender beating heart of my childhood. During the early summer months, it was covered in a blanket of small white blossoms which would turn into hard pale berries. Slowly the sickly berries would mature into beautiful shades of pink and reds – sweetened by the warmth of the sun. There was just enough room to sit between the berries and gorge ourselves before dinner. Thick grass grew on one side, a spruce tree on another, short grass on the third side, and the sandy shortcut on the fourth. It was rarely passed by people – tranquil and private. It always seemed to be sitting in the sunshine.


Sitka Rose – If you walked along the sandy shortcut away from beachfront you would pass through a selection of Sitka Rose bushes so dense and high it was nearly a tunnel. The soft pink buds grew into five-petaled flowers with vibrant yellow centers. Bumblebees were so common along this section of the path that it scared the majority of the resident camp kids from traversing it. The lane led up a small but steep incline furrowed by ATV’s and ended behind the Brown Building (also known as the Office Building) and next to the Old Playground.


Fireweed – Behind the Old Playground a unique flower grew. It grows best where there has been a forest fire. Fireweed can grow up to seven feet tall and has dozens of bright purple blooms sprouting from its stem. Long, pointed leaves are paired with the flowers to give it a bushy tail-like quality. A sizable patch of Fireweed returned every year behind the Old Playground. My friend and I would wade into the patch – usually unable to see over the top of the plants – and create houses by flattening the stems. We would lay on the hard stems and the squishy ground, staring through the fluorescent flowers at the blue sky spattered with fluffy clouds.


Crab Apple – If you crawl out of the little Fireweed house and take a left at the Old Playground, there is a narrow path between the fence and a group of spruce trees – one of which contained a “fort” we had constructed. At the end of this path and by the corner of the playground fence, a moderately sized Western Crab Apple tree flowered every spring. It produced tiny little fruits with a punch so sour we could barely eat them. The tougher you were, the more crabapples you would pop into your mouth. By that tree, we would stop to talk and eat the apples, touching the thin rough branches.


Iris and Lupine – Continuing past the crabapple tree towards the Beach Road, there is a swath of land left covered in uncut grasses and flowers. This area is the second most colorful section of wilderness at Echo Ranch. Bright pinks and purples, vibrant blues, and jewel-toned greens sway in the ocean breeze coming off the Bay. Iris and Lupine can be found across the entire property but when I think of them I remember this particular field of wildflowers. We didn’t wade through the grasses often (fear of bumblebees was a big factor), but we passed it innumerable times every day on our adventures. The sandy Beach Road stretched along an even, straight length of ground long enough for an occasional pilot to land his bush plane. Berner’s Bay is visible from this road and at low tide, the sand flats stretch far past the shore line.


Beach Peas – Let’s deviate from the road and cross the grass strip littered with horse manure and strawberry plant runners. Down a slight dip and back up again to the top of the sandy beach, the soft grey-blue waves beat rhythmically against the dark shore. At the bottom of the slope leading to the water, the sand starts to turn into pebbles, but under our feet at the top of the hill is sun-warmed sand and tender green Beach Peas. In between playing in the waist-high beach grass and kicking up sand, we would take a few moments to pause and notice the delicate purple and pink plants. Their leaves were spongy and wet, their flowers droopy and their roots easy to pull up.


Nagoonberry – If you travel down the shore, parallel to the Beach Road, a muddy slip of land parts the sand from the mainland, turning it into a peninsula when the tide is high. A quick slog through ankle deep mud when the tide is low takes you to a grassy incline covered in strawberries, irises, and nagoonberries. This plant grows close to the ground, one or two berries per stem, in varying hues of pinks and purples. Sometimes they are crunchy and sometimes they are a juicy explosion of sweet tartness in your mouth. Occasionally, we would create “salads” from nagoonberries, strawberries, and dandelion flowers when we played pretend.


Indian Rhubarb – This plant, unlike the aforementioned ones, is not a favorite. It can grow up to six feet tall with leaves larger than your head. If you brush past some of the fuzzy leaves or celery-like stalks and get the juices on your skin without knowing – you’re in for a nasty rash. The juice – activated by the sun – burns your skin. I don’t particularly associate this plant with any one location at Echo Ranch, because it was everywhere. There was an abundance of it near the Slew, behind the Old Playground, and anywhere people didn’t normally walk (it was removed as best as possible by camp personnel).


Devil’s Club – Another nasty plant; Devil’s Club is similar in shape to Indian Rhubarb but is somewhat worse. Not only can you get a rash from the leaves, but it is covered in thousands of thorns and capable of reaching a staggering height of ten feet tall. The leaves are jagged and thorny, and nearly twice the size of Indian Rhubarb. There are two locations that I remember when I think of Devil’s Club. First: the Cove, which was the two-mile beach line you had to either hike or drive to reach Echo Ranch. Depending on the tides, the cove could be impassable several times during the day. The second place, which was actually off-limits to the Camp Kids, was up a six-foot “cliff” behind my house. There was a small ramp-like incline in one spot on that cliff, and we would occasionally venture into the Woods when we were feeling particularly brave. Hidden a few hundred yards into the woods was the abandoned remains of a poor attempt at a “log cabin” constructed by the older Camp Kids.


Alaska Cotton – The last place in this tour is the most beautiful location at Echo Ranch: the Valley. The camp owned several square miles of undeveloped land where the herd of horses grazed during the nights before being rounded up every morning by the wranglers. The Valley was full of every kind of flora mentioned before, but held the unique Alaska Cotton. This flower features a too-big puff of brown-tinted fluff supported by a wiry green stem. The Valley contains fields of cotton, iris, lupine, and Indian’s Rhubarb blending together in an impressionist painting of Southeast Alaska.


To an eagle soaring in the sky, Alaska is enormous. With 663,300 square miles to roam, you could easily feel lost among the vast forests and high mountains. But as a child, Echo Ranch was the only bit of Alaska I needed. It didn’t seem like this huge wilderness that could swallow me whole. Instead, I felt wrapped in light and God’s creation, basking in the sun and playing in the flowers. Some flowers send their seeds onto the winds, drifting far and wide for an undetermined amount of time, searching for a new home. Despite their new location, each flower has a bit of their homeland traveling around with them. Alaska is still a part of me even though I am thousands of miles away and I thank God every day that I get to claim my childhood in that place.

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nancijochisholm
Apr 01, 2019

So awesome, Carina! Brought me right back there and tears to my eyes!!

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