Adventures in Snipe Hunting
I’ve decided to share this little tale, only because it is amusing to me and to the girls that came to girls’ camp this week. So every year, we take the first years snipe hunting. We convince the girls that snipes are like little pot guts with razor sharp teeth and claws. Our ultimate goal is to capture a snipe, and the only way to protect yourself from their venomous and painful bites, is to put toothpaste all over your face. The strong smell of minty toothpaste repels the snipes and makes it so they won’t bite you, (it also stings really bad when you smear it on your face). My first year of girls’ camp, I was so excited to catch a snipe for the first time! Unfortunately, that was not the case. The younger girls weren’t allowed to catch the snipes, they could just watch while the older girls caught them. I was so mad. But nonetheless, I journeyed through the pitch black night with a minty, burning face and a tummy full of butterflies. My favorite young woman, Brynne, let the hunt. She grabbed her pillowcase, and then after wading through waist-high weeds, she scooped up a snipe from the ground like a professional. I was shocked at her next comment, “Do you want to touch it?” Thousands of thoughts flooded my head. “Uhh, sure?” Then before I knew it, she was opening the pillowcase! I hesitantly put my head closer to the opening where the snipe lay. Then suddenly, without warning, she lunged at me!! I thought for sure that the snipe was going to jump out and tear my head off. I screamed so loud that it scared the girls beside me. We all joined in a huge blood-curdling scream, and next to me, the older girls were laughing! I could have hit ‘em! Why were they laughing when me and my friends almost died by venomous teeth sinking into our skin?! Then the truth came out: SNIPES DON’T EXIST. Well SHOOT, now I feel like an idiot!!
So anyway, that’s been the tradition for FOREVER. The older girls take the younger ones snipe hunting, scare the pants off of them, and then reveal to the terrified 12-year-olds that they’ve been pranked. 
It’s awesome.
Well, the main point I was trying to come to was the adventures that I’ve had in snipe hunting. You see, this was my first year that I was going to be able to lead the snipe hunt, and actually catch the snipe. I asked Taylor, a girl older than me to bring up the rear on the hunt, and to throw small rocks into the bushes in front of us (so they’d move and give the illusion of something in the bush).
So we set on our hunt. Flashlights off, and faces burning with toothpaste. I had my pillowcase in hand as we walked in the pitch black night. Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. Well, sort of brilliant. I thought, “What’s the fun in scooping up the snipe? Wouldn’t it be more heart-pounding for the girls and fun for me if I tackled the snipe?” GENIUS. So, as we trudged through the bushes and weeds, I spotted a perfect spot in front of me. The bushes were really tall, and I thought I’d just leap into the bushes and come back up with a pillowcase enclosing a snipe! (really it was just a t-shirt that I had previously rolled up) So, I shushed the girls, and told them that we had found our snipe. I told them to stay back as I crept up to the bush. Then, I crouched down and held my pillowcase up, I jumped into the tangle of bushes. But, to my utter and horrific surprise, the bushes concealed a small cliff about 1-2 feet. I fell in a crouched position, only to land my knees on some hard, sharp rocks. A shockwave went through my leg and instantly, I felt a lot of pain. The strangled cries behind me of, “Brittany? Did you catch it?” “Are you okay?” “Did the snipe get you?”. I immediately let out an “Umm, guys? I need help.” Taylor looked at me from above. “Are you okay?” I responded, “No. I fell on my knees and it really hurts.” Purely on adrenaline, I shakily got to my feet and almost immediately fell over. I couldn’t even stand up! The girls went into, ‘emergency mode’ and picked me up from the ground. As I was being carried back to camp, we started laughing and joking about how funny I looked. Sure, it may have looked hilarious, but at the moment, my right knee hurt so bad that I couldn’t even bend it.
When we got back to camp, I was sat on the table while my first-aid certified, coolest life-guard on the planet lifted up my pant-leg. The girls around me yelled audible, “Ohhhh’s” and “Ewww’s” as my knee was revealed. There was blood coming all out of a puncture wound and a rug-burn looking scrape. But that’s not what hurt. It felt as though someone had grabbed my knee cap and twisted it. O-U-C-H.
After my life-guard Jourdan cleaned my wound and taped a gauze pad onto it, I went to bed. The next morning, my knee was so stiff that I couldn’t even bend it. We cleaned up camp, and I hobbled around like a lame duck. When we got home, I took the bandage off. The nasty looking wound was still bleeding and my knee had now bloomed into a beautiful bruise. Purple, red and speckled, it formed a C around part of my knee. Numerous bruises scattered around it, and it was clearly swollen. It was so pretty.
Well, now that I’ve described that tale to seem like I just escaped death, I’ll tell you that my knee is healing nicely. Hobbling around isn’t fun, especially when my knee remains un-bendable. The bruise is going away, except for that C shape. The bleeding has stopped and it just looks like a healing, disgusting wound. All in all, it was a good adventure. Taylor said I’ll go down into the Snipe Hunting Hall of Fame. 