“The Batners were a family that occupied that small shanty that we passed on the trail. Bulldozers and the like were ready to begin demolishing the forest to make way for it. “Back in the late 1930s, the area you are now sitting in was supposed to be converted into an airbase. I am going to write what he said as best as I can remember it. He told us that he was now going to tell the tale of the Batners. As we began to eat, the Ranger that had served as our guide gathered everyone’s attention. This was followed by one of the things I was most looking forward to, making s’mores around the campfire. We cooked hot dogs for dinner at the campsite. When the wind through the trees began to resemble a whisper, I quickened my step as night began to overtake the woods in an impenetrably black shroud. There was something unmistakably creepy about these woods. I surveyed my surroundings and soaked in the eerie silence that accompanied it. With a cold wind blowing through the October air, I began to look at the branches of the barren and gnarled trees as they swayed. I fell a little bit behind my father and the rest of the troop. This name meant nothing to me, but I was genuinely intrigued that a family had lived in such a tiny shanty. This was followed by a lot of oohhs and aahhs. He told us to remember this hovel because it was the home of the Batners. A derelict chair rocked ominously on the tiny front porch as the wind played with it. It must have been abandoned for at least the better part of a century, maybe even more.
The Ranger who was guiding our troop came across a rundown shack. Even though I was disappointed when my father would not let me keep it as a pet and made me release it back into the woods, I was still very proud of this accomplishment. I remember I caught my first wild animal, a frog. This was followed by an extended nature hike. We set up our tent and our sleeping bags. A smile beamed across my 9 year old face the entire way there.
I convinced my father to join me and spent the next three weeks up all night with anticipation coursing through me. I had never been camping before and had always wanted to go. To say I was excited would be a gross understatement.
#Gay twink gets fucked by father free#
It seemed like I had joined at a very opportune time since the big overnight camping trip to Bong Recreation Area (feel free to make jokes, God knows we did) in Kenosha, WI was only three weeks away. I quickly made friends with everyone there. I liked attending meetings for the Cadets. I agreed, and he registered me the next day. This is an organization that is like the Boy Scouts but with a more explicitly Christian bend to it. My dad in turn suggested I join the Cadets. My father was a pastor, and when I developed an interest in doing outdoorsy type stuff, I asked if I could join the Boy Scouts. I attended Christian school and went to church three days a week, sometimes even more. However, I feel by writing this incident down I can put that night behind me and finally put this harrowing encounter to bed. This event is the source of such fear and dread that thinking about it even twenty years later is sending shivers up and down my spine. Lately, my mind has been wandering back to my first camping experience.