Click a picture to enlarge it.

Photos and Articles by Matt Lurrie

"That sounds boring," complained one camper.  "It's just stacking cups!" Wednesday night, the Juniors were scheduled to play the cup game, a test of nerves and engineering skills.  Many were, in the beginning, skeptical, but pre-game critics soon stopped insulting the game, and began biting their nails with each cup.

Once those five minutes were up, all that was left to do was build the plastic cup fortresses.

Lines were formed.  Each team would, in a row, take one cup, individually, and place it wherever they would like.  The object, at the end of the game, was to have the highest tower.

Foundations were created to support what each group hoped would be a skyscraper.

There seemed to be a mysterious mutual ailment between all the teams. 

It was not until well into the game that, in the hot cafeteria, people realized that the fans were blowing cups over.  They were quickly shut off, to the dismay of all who were not playing.

Early in the game, one group began to break away from the pack.  Instead of an elaborate foundation, height was the main focus.

It seemed as if this was the tower to beat.

Karma seemed to feel the same way.  When a daring girl put one cup on top, attempting to make the tower ten cups high, the lack of foundation caught up with them, and the tower came crumbling down. 

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

It soon became a race between the two boy's bunks.  Each group raced to get as many cups onto their creation before time was up.

Finally, time was called.  Ryan, the judge, began to count how high each cup tower was.

It was a tie.  Each group had built a tower nine cups high.  It would be settled with a tie breaker.  Each member of each group was given one cup, and only one cup, and they had to put it on the tower.  Which ever one was taller at the end of this would win.

One thing that should be noted was that there was no talking allowed in this round.  But a sharp-eyed Staff Assistant, Deanna B., caught Mike T. creating a blink-once blink-twice system that he communicated to his campers.  To be fair, he did not say a word.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as eager spectators, like NASCAR fans, hoped to see at least one crash.

I will not reveal the name of the camper who I quoted earlier in the article.  I will, however, say that this person is in one of the pictures, smiling, having a great time.