I’m a Bubbler, and proud. What is a Bubbler, you may ask? Truth is, I still don’t know. My school’s mascot was a bubble, so while it might make more sense to call our sports teams the “Bubbles,” someone in the school administration thought “Bubblers” would be more intimidating. I’m from Boiling Springs, Pa, an artsy upper-middle-class suburban paradise named for the artisanal spring that flows from the middle of town and feeds the Yellow Breeches stream. Locals affectionately call the spring the “Bubble,” and at a frigid 55℉ year-round, it is far from boiling.

My whole town centered on this water-spewing hole in the ground, and it became a haven for cave divers, sore runners, and chatty middle schoolers alike. It knit our small community together, and gave us all an identity. We were all Bubblers. We had a sucky mascot and not-so-boiling spring. It may not sound like a lot, but it still means a lot to me.

Here are some reasons why I am still proud to be a Bubbler.

Bubbletown is Quirky

Ecopsychologists talk about what is known as “the spirit of the place,” and Bubbletown still remains true to its founding. It took a bunch of creative weirdos to name a town and a school mascot after a water source, and the town still attracts the same kind of people. Bubblers are artsy - we have an annual art fest called Foundry Day and an art shop called Village Artisans. The cafe in town is decorated with local artwork, mostly from artist Thom Glace. People from all over flock to Allenberry to see plays and attend murder mysteries. Bubblers channel their quirkiness and turn it into beautiful things.

My High School Mascot is a Great Icebreaker

As a college student you just can’t escape icebreakers. Freshman orientation is loaded with them, and just when you think you’re finished, you go to your first club meeting and there are more. I’m not that interesting of a person, and I suck at coming up with things on the spot. This is when it really comes in handy having a weird school mascot.

We Get Tons of Nutty Nature Lovers

The Appalachian Trail runs right through the heart of the town, so Boiling Springs attracts nature lovers from all walks of life. In addition, people come through to see the duck pond or fly-fish in the Yellow Breeches. The through-hikers walking the Appalachian Trail are always my favorite. Being on the trail, hikers depend on each other to survive, so they are usually very happy, trusting people. Boiling Springs is roughly halfway through the Appalachian Trail, so by mid-summer the small town is swarming with hikers. This past summer, ultramarathoner Scott Jurek ran through the town in a successful attempt to break the Appalachian Trail record. This caused a lot of stir in sleepy little Boiling Springs, and he was met with a crowd of high school cross country runners when he came through. Occasionally, straggling hikers come through town close to the holidays. A few years ago my family invited a couple of them to Thanksgiving dinner.

Band is the Most Popular Sport

Our high school band is the largest group in our school. Our football team nearly always sucks, but the band livens up football games. The drum line brings life to our student section and pep rallies. Plus, they dance. That’s pretty cool.

Bubblers Go Out with a Bang

Last year we had a streaker at graduation. The year before a kid had his friend set fireworks off in the background as he got his diploma.

There’s No Other Bubbletown

Well, there is another Boiling Springs, but only the people of my town can call themselves Bubblers. We wear our weirdness on our sleeve. Sure, “Bubblers” doesn’t sound intimidating to other sports teams, but we wouldn’t change our mascot if we could. It’s part of who we are. It’s more than a mascot or a fun fact, it’s an identity. We’re a small town, everyone knows everyone, which sucks sometimes, but we’re an intimate community. When one of our own is in trouble, we all help. When we lose a gifted athlete or an autistic girl we all mourn.