I remember going up to a campground when I was little, called Benson’s campground. My brother and I would sleep in the bunk beds in my Grandma’s trailer. From early in the morning to ten o’clock at night, we would ride our bikes around the little circle of campers. Eventually as we got older, we rode farther. We rode up the hills on either side of the camp ground together. As we got older yet, we started to drift apart, as children will do, and found kids of our own age group to play with. Those kids who came up there with their grandparents also, soon grew out of it. Jason and I would still go to the campground as much as our mom would allow us, but what nobody knew, was that this whole time, I was having some strange dreams that only occured when I was there.
I can vaguely remember the first dream, as it was a long time ago and there were so many. Here’s what I can remember:
- They were all about Jason, a kid named Lucas, (or Logan I can’t remember) and I riding our bikes in this mysterious place in the middle of the woods. There was a section of field where we would create jumps for our bikes.
- The dreams took place at or a place somewhere around Benson’s campground. Some of the places only exist in my dreams.
- Lucas (or Logan… though I’m pretty sure it is Lucas) was at least 3 years older than Jason (which would make him 5 1/2 years older than me) and was much taller. He had this curly, light brown hair that got darker as he aged.
- His bike was a dark gray BMX bike, and it was the same one he used in all of my dream for as many years as they went on.
In one of the earlier dreams, I remember riding my bike in the woods on a path that was only wide enough for one biker, Lucas at the front, Jason in the middle and me at the end of the line. We would go up this tiny hill, then the trees would open up for about 20 feet, then resume. After further riding on our self-made path, we would come to this huge hill of mud and grass and roots. I was always afraid to ride down it, so Lucas would come back up the hill and help me walk my bike down it.
I’m just letting you know that I could write a book about these weird dream adventures I’ve had.
I know it seems like I’m making this up, but I’m not. These are real dreams. They seemed so real when I was little, like these events actually took place.
As we got older, so did Lucas. He grew with us. His hair got darker and his voice got deeper. As a little kid, I didn’t know what was going on. Eventually Lucas wasn’t in my dreams anymore. He was probably 15 at that point. Then, I stopped having the dreams altogether.
A few month ago, I had a dream that Lucas was 18 or 19 and was getting yelled at by his parents because he wouldn’t move out yet. Strangely, they lit one of his belongings on fire (I don’t remember what it was or for what reason). Lucas got on his bike and rode off. I hadn’t had one of these weird dreams in a while now, not that it was this often I would have them. I would only have them when I was up at the campground.
I think I’m crazy. Why else would I have these dreams? Maybe it’s a result of my dad putting me to sleep to Mozart… because that sure didn’t make me more creative.