In the summer of 1971, according to family legend, my dad was the first camper to touch ground at the newly opened Camp Ekon on the shores of Muskoka’s Lake Joseph. I can only imagine what the modest campsite looked like to that 10-year-old city kid.
Nearly 30 years (and a few upgrades) later, after being regaled with camp stories our whole lives, my siblings and I would finally set foot on what felt like hallowed ground.
My parents dropped me off at Brebeuf College School in North York to catch the bus to Seguin, Ont. Ekon was the first time I’d been away from my parents for such a long period, and at 10 years old, I was nervous. Two of my older sisters would be there, but they were placed in Bear Hut, a different cabin from my novice Deer Hut.
My days were filled with the regular camp fare: swimming, canoeing and orienteering rotated around our three communal meals in the dining hall.
Lake Joseph was deep and cold. Morning swimming lessons in its frigid depths drew groans from me and my fellow campers, which were mollified by the assurance from the camp counsellor that the water heaters just needed a minute to “kick-in.” After 10 minutes of treading water, we ceased to notice how cold we were. It took me 10 years to realize there were never any heaters.
One of my sisters and I took an elective activity called Rock 101, which we assumed was a rock climbing course or some kind of geology seminar. To our confusion, we spent an hour or so a day having guitar played at us by a couple of male counsellors whose limited repertoire included “The Boys in the Bright White Sports Car” by Trooper, and “Everybody Wants Something” by The Zit Remedy, the fictional band from the original “Degrassi” show. They were magnanimous enough to let us sing the backing vocals during these jam sessions.
Something undervalued about the sleep-away camp experience is how much fun the counsellors have (sometimes at our expense) and how much the ones at Ekon seemed to love their jobs.
You realize life’s simple pleasures when your options are pared down to the bare necessities. I learned that the stakes in capture the flag only feel real when played under the terrifying cloak of total country darkness; that the most delicious food in the world is bread we got after dinner by the campfire, with so much melted butter it would drip down the sides; and that the best sleep you will ever get is on a dinky cot after you’ve spent the whole day running around outside.
I only spent the one week at Ekon. As I got older, my summers became consumed by competitive sports. But when I heard it was closing due to financial reasons two years ago, I was gutted.
Ekon was founded as a non-profit, with a bursary program to ensure children from low-income families had access. According to its (now defunct) website, Ekon was established as “a place for kids where the ‘little guy’ comes first.” While it’s unclear what Ekon’s financial struggles were, its closure follows a trend of Ontario summer camps that have struggled to stay afloat since the pandemic.
Lake Joseph has changed significantly since the ’70s, attracting international wealth from the likes of celebrities and CEOs — properties on a stretch of the Muskoka lake’s shoreline known as “Billionaire’s Row” fetch prices in the tens of millions. Ekon’s closure underscores a growing trend where lakefront summers in Muskoka are only accessible to the ultrarich.
Supporting the Star’s Fresh Air Fund, which provides grants for camps to help subsidize fees for financially vulnerable children, has never been more important.
Camp was a place where I learned to be uncomfortable, where I had space to struggle with and hone new skills, and where the only things that could distract me were the strange sounds of the country. To this day when I go for a run outside, I resist the temptation to plug my ears with earbuds, so that I can “commune with nature,” as I’ve come to refer to the practice.
When I ask my dad why Ekon was so important to him, and why he wanted to send his daughters there, he talks about how crucial it was for him as a city kid to get exposure to the wild outdoors. He tells me about the great equalizing effect of a camp where all kids were not only welcome but enabled to attend. Ekon was foundational to his development. He quotes Neil Young’s “Helpless,” the song about the Canadian singer’s time in Northern Ontario, to describe the profound effect that camp had on him: “All my changes were there.”
