Dear Mom:
You know that right across the way from the camp there is a high mountain called Mt. Jupiter-and here the story lies. It is a custom that every summer some campers decide to do the nearest thing to suicide and climb the mountain for what they call a "good time. " Well, I once tried it, but being out of condition, got no more than half way up. That was three years ago, but having become a fine physical specimen at Kvutza, I decided to try it again.
We were to be guided by the forest ranger, Sandy, who is pretty good looking so we had no trouble getting several girls to go. As we started out, someone found out that I had the only knapsack in Kvutza, so they let me carry all the lunches plus a first aid kit and camera. We hiked two miles in the nice summer sun and began to climb the mountain single file. Jerry, in back of me, bad been eating garlic all morning and whenever we stopped, he would put his head over my shoulder to see what was doing, and made me sick. There was of course no turning back; Dave Bleviss was at the rear and no one could squeeze by. After fighting our way through the brush (the ranger and I wore short pants and my legs are disfigured for life), we arrived at the top, took pictures (my film), and ate lunch (sandwiches and fruit from the knapsack I was carrying). We sat around, sang songs which the ranger liked though he didn't know what they were all about (nor did we), and then began to go down. We went down a firebreak. If you don't know what a firebreak is, I shall explain: A firebreak is a long, cleared strip through the mountain, designed to stop a forest or brush fire. It is made by big tractors which try to find the steepest part of the mountain they can go up without turning over. I am sure that this tractor found the steepest part of the whole range of mountains.
It is not true that it is easier to come down than to go up. Once you begin going down it is very difficult to stop. Also it is quite uncomfortable to find that you cannot stop at the edge of a cliff. Don't worry, Mom, I stopped. I played soldier all the way down and it was very realistic; I almost became a casualty when I tripped. We finally got to the bottom drawn out over a half mile or so of ground. After waiting until we all gathered-including the loose parts-we began to hike home. Just as we got near camp, we found a rattlesnake had been killed a few minutes before we got there. How sorry I was. I felt just like killing a rattlesnake, too. Well, goodbye now. Oh yes, send me $7 and a snake-bite kit. I want to stay longer. Love.
Your dear son, Norman
1942