Montreat Begins

It was my third time attending the Montreat Youth Conference with my church youth group. Montreat was a blast, and anyone who has been to it knows what an incredible time is to be had there. Run by the Presbyterian church, Montreat is a picturesque complex set high up in the mountains some 30 minutes from Asheville, and is the place of thousands of teenage memories of growing together and having the time of your life with your friends.

Each summer the senior highs in the youth group became deliriously excited about Montreat (the junior highs had their own conference), and rightfully so. It was a week of bonding with close friends, meeting new ones, and joyfully experiencing new steps in religious faith.

Every year, the youth and their families gathered in the church parking lot, loaded down with backpacks, pillows, and Cheerwine, the official drink of Montreat, which still hasnt caught on here in Virginia. The carpools were decided, a quick prayer was said, and the 4+ hour drive began.

That summer, we cruised through Black Mountain, NC beyond excited. We were listening to the hits of the day on the radio, and Bootylicious came on. We cranked up the music, and drove through the Montreat gate with the song blaring out the windows, boogieing in our seats.

Arriving at the Montreat house where we would stay, I shrieked with excitement. I barreled out of the car, dancing around and singing Bootylicious. I ran up to Callie and Mike on the porch and sang to them.

Our first night, whenever someone came in the room, I sang, "Bryan, can you handle this?" or "Charlie, can you handle this?"

The following summer, the arrival was a bit calmer. Only two carpools had arrived. I turned to Callie and said, "Hey, Callie, remember Bootylicious?" She smiled and laughed.