The last time I came to Club Getaway in Connecticut’s Litchfield Hills was 2011 — I was 12 years old, sitting on a crowded school bus with my iPod Nano blasting Grouplove’s “Tongue Tied,” wearing a black Hot Topic two-piece swimsuit and intensely knotting friendship bracelets for my friends, privately agonizing over how I was going to get out of most of the activities.

I’d been warned about camp — and specifically this one, a fun-for-all-ages spot catering to tri-staters for generations. There would be water sports, water tag, bungee jumping and ziplines — a nightmare lineup for my artsy, aggressively sports-hating preteen self. (Think…

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