“There is no shortage of junk at a Christian camp,” Jeremy says.

Rather than sailing down the mountain side, I was rudely yanked back and deposited on my rear end on the platform, as my legs slammed into the side of the structure.

As the dining room began to clear out, I saw those two beautiful, golden-brown waffles still remained on the plate at the waffle bar, though the batter was gone and no more would be made that day.