My favorite part of camp was the swinging bridge.  Just inside the camp it was your first sight just to the right.  I made many memories here as so did many of my friends.  We would spend countless hours sitting on the bridge and talking about all the things we wanted to do when we got older.  Many of us had our first camp kiss on this bridge.  Just below the bridge in the creek was an old shack that was used for some sort of water gathering many years ago.  The shack wasn’t used anymore but we had fun making up stories about that shack.  We began to tell the smaller children about the troll that lived there and if you couldn’t get across the bridge fast enough he would send a wild boar after you.  Each year the story grew and grew and each year the smaller children would run across the bridge crying and we would spend a free time picking up trash from the creek, but it was well worth it.