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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 Christina Ricci’s Wednesday Addams at Camp Chippewa in “Addams Family Values” — minus the homicidal tendencies.)
I had no idea that 15 years later, I’d be back — this time as an adult, willingly signing up for the activities younger me had been dreading.
Over the past few months, I’d been hearing whispers that adult summer camps were having a moment, especially among my fellow stressed Gen Zers trying to have it all in NYC.
The idea is simple: Take a bunch of adults weary of city life, work and the increasingly complicated business of making friends, stick them in the woods for a weekend and give them permission to act like kids again — complete with bunk-style cabins, sports, swimming and s’mores.
Some of the more popular adult sleepaway spots near the Big Apple include Camp No Counselors in the Poconos, women’s-only Camp Social in Pennsylvania and Retrofolk Summer Camp in the Catskills.
And, of course, there’s Club Getaway — a much older institution that has been welcoming grownups since 1976, making it a pioneer on the scene. Last weekend, I was one of those adults hoping for a true escape from it all — and a chance to stare down my adolescent fears.
Held every weekend throughout the summer, the over-21 packages include “rustic-chic” lodging, meals, wine with dinner, more than fifty scheduled activities, themed parties and live entertainment. Prices start at $559 for a bed in a quad-cabin and $869 for a solo cabin. Campers can sign up online.
Owner David Schreiber told me the concept dates back to 1976, when founder Victor Fink transformed his family’s struggling children’s camp into an adult-camp model. The campgrounds turn 100 this year — while Club Getaway celebrates 50 years of adult weekends.
Today, roughly 200 to 250 adults descend on the property for a typical weekend, with the average camper around 36.
But Schreiber said the activities — from mixology classes to team sports to themed parties — are really just a means to an end.
“People come here every weekend to have a great time and to be a kid again. Our team is here to help people meet new friends, and for many, even soulmates,” he said.
In other words, the camp isn’t really selling ziplining. It’s selling something that can be much harder to find in adulthood: a ready-made social life.
“You come here, and now all of a sudden, you have your whole crew. You find your people,” he said.
Would I find mine? I stepped off the Metro-North train from Grand Central at the Harlem Valley-Wingdale station on a Friday, where a shuttle was waiting to pick up campers who had coordinated their train arrival times. Camp employee Louis loaded my luggage. Driving the group of about 10 campers up into the hills, he casually mentioned rumors that the camp was haunted.
As an avid gothic-horror fan, I was immediately intrigued. I joked that pulling up to camp felt like arriving at “Friday the 13th’s” Camp Crystal Lake.
Upon arrival, I checked into my pondside cabin I’d be sharing with three other roommates, and headed to happy hour under the campground’s main white tent, before sitting down to a family-style dinner.
Before long, we were swept into a room with a dance floor thumping with early-2010s hits — including, fittingly, “Tongue Tied.”
Fellow escaped Gothamite Carly Ziff, 34, of Midtown East, told me she’d never experienced sleepaway camp as a kid — so she was making up for lost time.
“I’m a very nostalgic person. I heard about everyone here recreating their camp moments as a child, but I’m creating them now as an adult for the first time,” she told me.
She made new friends, she said, at the camp’s “Paint and Sip” class where wine flowed — and was eager to push herself with kayaking and other outdoor activities.
“It’s funny, I don’t know if I would’ve appreciated this as much as a kid, but now I really do as an adult,” she said.
Sandra Florent of Irvington, New Jersey, came with a friend to celebrate her 40th birthday — and finally have the summer-camp experience she missed as a kid.
Florent loved relaxing by the water with a cocktail, making new friends from all over the world and bonding with fellow campers over activities like pizza-making and swimming.
“As an adult, it’s harder to make friends,” she said. “As a kid, I think you take for granted.”
The next morning brought a buffet breakfast — before I headed down to the lake for tie-dye and archery.
My suitably groovy shirt was a skill I inherited from my hippie mom; my archery skills, unfortunately, were not quite Legolas-level.
I landed two arrows near the target — baby steps — before drawing the line at the zipline, SkyCycle, bungee jumping and rock climbing, happily cheering on my new friends from safer ground.
Between a scenic boat ride, a disastrous water-balloon toss and foam-sword fighting with a crew member sporting a Jason Voorhees mask — I was right about the “Friday The 13th” vibes! — I quickly learned there was never a shortage of things to do, or people to do them with.
By Saturday night, I was ready for the evening I’d been anticipating before I even arrived — the camp-wide “Party Like It’s 1926” costume bash.
I tied my long black locks into a faux bob, applied my best silent film makeup, slipped into a black cocktail dress, and headed down to the Boathouse, which the staff had transformed into a 1920s-inspired speakeasy.
“I seriously can’t believe we’re still at summer camp,” camper Amanda Morrison, 42, mused as the night’s festivities began.
The Hoboken resident was “no stranger to summer camps as a child,” but said she’d never experienced anything quite like Club Getaway. “The themed night decor is so intricate and detailed,” she said.
Outside, a roaring bonfire, s’mores and live music kept the camp nostalgia going late into the night.
After breakfast on the final day, I headed to “Bloody Mary Bingo” — where comedian and host Jeff “Bluto” Deliberato climbed into an ice-cold tub as campers gathered around him, drinks in hand, for music-themed bingo. I didn’t win, but the sight alone was worth the price of admission.
By the final lunch, I realized that even though once again I’d arrived at camp nervous about the sports — I hadn’t been concerned about being alone. And I wasn’t. I found myself surrounded by solo travelers and groups of friends, mostly in their 20s through 50s, all willing to introduce themselves, try something ridiculous together and strike up a conversation.
On Sunday, a group of longtime alumni over 60 returned to camp to reminisce, reconnect and share memories from decades past.
Longtime staff member and sports instructor Lou Schioppo, 78, of Staten Island, had me reaching for a tissue when he told me how he met his wife at the camp in 1976 — “she worked in arts and crafts!” — and married her soon after.
“I have so many stories, friends and my wife and children, all thanks to this camp. There’s nowhere else like it,” he said.
Fred Cordero, 64, of Montclair, New Jersey, and his wife, Jessica Sporn, said they were planning to renew their vows at Club Getaway — where they first met in 1998. They were married within a year.
“We’re going to renew our vows here for our 30th anniversary,” Cordero told me. “We’re together and our daughter is here on Earth because of this camp. I was 26 when I first came here. We met while dancing to ‘The Hustle’ in the Boathouse. We danced all night.”
Cordero said he still loves the camp’s mix of activities and the chance to meet new people — and summed up his origin story with a laugh: “Where else can you get to water ski, rock climb and meet your future wife all in one day?”
As for me, I didn’t meet my future husband — as far as I know — but between the tie-dye, archery, foam-sword fighting, karaoke and lakeside cocktails, I made new friends, survived the sports and, for one weekend, let myself be a kid again.
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