8 days ago on November 29 we went to camp. We started with the flying fox. I went near the end because I was a bit scared but once I went I was happy.
That was when my fun began.
Even though I had a fear of heights, I did the scary stuff. I went up the high ropes, the rock-climbing walls and I went down on the swing. My parents are proud of what I and I am too. If I never did that stuff I would regret it.
The 5 hour walk was tiring. My feet hurt for ages.
When I left camp I knew I would miss it. I was happy to go and I knew I wouldn't forget it.