Horseback Riding Chug? Flip’s Going to That One!
December 30, 2010 by Herzl Camp Admin, under Letters from Alumni.
By Flip Frisch
When I was 12, I loved two things most of all: horses and Herzl Camp. And then a great miracle happened – for two glorious summers during the mid-1980’s, Herzl offered a horseback riding chug. When I learned this would happen I nearly, uh, plotzed in my pants. That two of my favorite things in the world were colliding was almost too much to bear. Had I been allowed to bring my cat to camp with me, I might have never left.
What’s that? You never knew Herzl briefly had horses? Well, their corral was located in the spot where the new tennis courts are. New tennis courts? Oh, right. The old tennis courts are where the new chadar is now. New chadar? Yeah. The old chadar is…well you get the picture.
The corral was surrounded by an electrified fence. Thanks to my childish curiosity, I learned that summer what it feels like when you touch an electrified fence. (Answer: Not good.)
The horses drank water in a trough made from an old rowboat, which Dave Burland had likely hauled there on his back. I once saw him transport a picnic table that way and it nearly blew my wimpy little mind; I still had trouble managing cups of silverware on a toran tray.
Anyway, I have virtually no memories of those summers except my time with the horses. In fact, I even took more pictures of the horses than of my own friends. After they were developed, I carefully wrote their names on the back of each horse’s photo and hung them on my wall. (See above.)
It was on horseback that I learned my way around the trails in the woods – how the Marp was mysteriously connected to the sports field by a sandy trail between the pines. One day we rode into a wide sunny field covered in purple flowers that became my secret favorite spot in camp. I used to visit there as often as I could over the years, and even imagined myself back there at stressful times during the school year. Sadly, now it’s a golf course, though that field lives on in my memory. But those horseback expeditions into the woods helped shape my love for the outdoors and led me, ultimately, to Teva Trek.
I understand now why it couldn’t last though, that marvelous combination of horses and Herzl. There was, first of all, the insurance problem. And I realize now there was also an elitism problem: the unfairness of having a special chug you could only join if your parents paid extra. Though I’ll forever be grateful that mine were willing to.
But one lingering memory of that summer is the night I woke up to the unmistakable sound of hooves rumbling past our cabin. First I though it was a dream. Actually, first I thought it was the imaginary unicorn I’d invented to keep me company when I was lonely during my first summer at Herzl, which is something I have never before admitted out loud to anyone. But then I realized that the horses had somehow gotten out and were running through camp in the middle of the night. Maybe they were playing “Escape to Israel!” Maybe they were raiding another corral of horses somewhere, bearing a crate of chocolate milk!
The next morning we heard that they had broken through the electrified fence, but that some staff members had “rounded them up.” As an adult, I now suppose that the horses got scared and tired and probably wandered back to where they knew they could find food, shelter and the company of other horses. Not to mention the finest drinking rowboat in Webster. But at the time, and for a number of years, I always imagined that a few enterprising counselors had jumped on the remaining horses (and maybe even on Dave Burland’s legendary seat-less bike) and galloped through camp, gathering up the stragglers with whirling lassos.
That I’d assumed skinny, nearsighted counselors from Golden Valley knew how to handle runaway horses is testament to my belief that there was nothing the Herzl staff couldn’t do. But what really happened that night is a mystery that was not solved for me, even after I became a staff member myself. If any of you reading this were out there that night, maybe you can tell me what happened.