Today my oldest son Mayson leaves for one week to attend his first scout camp. I only attended scout camp once as a youth and I have some very distinct good and not so good memories. One of the most distinct and longest lasting was the ride to camp. Our Bishop drove us up, there were 6 of us that went. We left at 4:30 in the morning in order to get to camp by 8:00. The Bishop had just bought a brand new Suburban a couple of weeks earlier and this is what we were riding in. We were told to bring a sack breakfast to eat on the way up. Between us we bags of junk food specifically root beer and a huge bag of a brand new candy called skittles. We were quite effectively working our way through the skittles and soda when we started to climb the winding mountain roads. At this point of time the sun started to come up and shine through the trees. The trees shadow on the road caused a sort of strobe affect as we drove past. I was in the middle bench and a voice from behind me said something to the affect of I think I am going to throw up.
The Bishop slammed on the breaks and instructed us all to get out quickly. (Just a side note here our Bishop was very mellow and not what I would call animated. So showing this level of excitement and emotion was very rare for him.) There six of us were standing on the side of a mountain road watching Brant throw up, then it triggered Peter and them it triggered Kevin. The remaining three of us were also looking a bit green around the gills. Bishop then said none of you can get back in until all of your throw up. We looked at him in disbelief but there was no joking or jest in his voice. So with a little prompting and help we all threw up so we could get back into the truck. We drove the last 30 minutes with windows down and heads hanging out (before seat belt laws).
To this day I cannot eat skittles. I cannot stomach even the thought of putting those rainbow pieces of evil into my mouth. It immediately takes me back to a winding mountain road and getting motion sick.