Our Scout troop took us out at least once a month year around. We did not worry about advancement that much. I did not even quite reach First Class, but had some merit badges. We took what we learned and started doing trips without adults by age 12. My Dad dropped us off on an island and came back a week later to pick us up.
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Happy Scream Day! 😱
National Boy Scouts Day
- Thread starter Patrick Corry
- Start date
My post #4 above is the sanitized version. Here is an example of other skills Scouting taught me:
When I was in 11th grade, my buddies and I were old enough to have driver's licenses. One Memorial Day weekend our troop had a 3 day camping trip. I rode to camp with my friends, John and Chris. Our transportation was John's father's brand-new-to-him very cherry 1960 VW. Lightweight camping equipment was unknown in those days. We loaded the VW with a heavy canvas tent, a Coleman stove, fat rectangular sleeping bags, and multiple cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew.
Chris was the only one who had been to the campsite before, so he was our navigator. We drove and drove, and finally stopped along a rural road in the middle of nowhere.
"Last time," said Chris, "we hiked to the campsite on this trail through the woods. It's about half a mile up the big hill."
The prospect of carrying all our gear up the big hill was unappealing. Fortunately, Scouting had honed my powers of observation.
"It looks like this trail used to be an old road," I remarked. "All we gotta do is trim back some of this vegetation, and we can drive all the way to camp." It seemed like a good idea at the time.
While Chris and I chopped down saplings with our Official Boy Scout Hatchets, John drove the VW up the newly created road. All was well until he took a turn too fast and collided with a tree stump. The VW sustained a big dent in its right front fender.
“Omigod!” John exclaimed, “My dad’s gonna kill me!”
Chris and I assured our pal that we would not allow him to be killed. We proceeded carefully to the campsite, where we found that the rest of the troop had driven through a large stump-free pasture. By this time it was late in the afternoon. We pitched our tent and feasted on Dinty Moore Beef Stew.
In the morning we attempted to repair the car. The Official Boy Scout Hatchet is a wonderful tool, but it is not a good tool for auto body repair. Try as we might, the dent remained.
“I got an idea!” said Chris. “My parents are out of town for the three day weekend, and my dad has a complete set of body and fender tools. Let’s go to my house and fix the car!”
So that’s what we did. Next morning we hammered out the dent until the fender was perfect. We went to the VW dealer and bought a can of matching Arctic Blue spray paint.
John’s father did not find out until several years later. We were all in college, and the blue VW had been traded in for a newer model. John’s dad was chewing him out about his inability to take care of a car. John was fed up.
“Dad,” he said, “there’s something you never knew about the old blue VW…..”
When I was in 11th grade, my buddies and I were old enough to have driver's licenses. One Memorial Day weekend our troop had a 3 day camping trip. I rode to camp with my friends, John and Chris. Our transportation was John's father's brand-new-to-him very cherry 1960 VW. Lightweight camping equipment was unknown in those days. We loaded the VW with a heavy canvas tent, a Coleman stove, fat rectangular sleeping bags, and multiple cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew.
Chris was the only one who had been to the campsite before, so he was our navigator. We drove and drove, and finally stopped along a rural road in the middle of nowhere.
"Last time," said Chris, "we hiked to the campsite on this trail through the woods. It's about half a mile up the big hill."
The prospect of carrying all our gear up the big hill was unappealing. Fortunately, Scouting had honed my powers of observation.
"It looks like this trail used to be an old road," I remarked. "All we gotta do is trim back some of this vegetation, and we can drive all the way to camp." It seemed like a good idea at the time.
While Chris and I chopped down saplings with our Official Boy Scout Hatchets, John drove the VW up the newly created road. All was well until he took a turn too fast and collided with a tree stump. The VW sustained a big dent in its right front fender.
“Omigod!” John exclaimed, “My dad’s gonna kill me!”
Chris and I assured our pal that we would not allow him to be killed. We proceeded carefully to the campsite, where we found that the rest of the troop had driven through a large stump-free pasture. By this time it was late in the afternoon. We pitched our tent and feasted on Dinty Moore Beef Stew.
In the morning we attempted to repair the car. The Official Boy Scout Hatchet is a wonderful tool, but it is not a good tool for auto body repair. Try as we might, the dent remained.
“I got an idea!” said Chris. “My parents are out of town for the three day weekend, and my dad has a complete set of body and fender tools. Let’s go to my house and fix the car!”
So that’s what we did. Next morning we hammered out the dent until the fender was perfect. We went to the VW dealer and bought a can of matching Arctic Blue spray paint.
John’s father did not find out until several years later. We were all in college, and the blue VW had been traded in for a newer model. John’s dad was chewing him out about his inability to take care of a car. John was fed up.
“Dad,” he said, “there’s something you never knew about the old blue VW…..”
I was just talking about my previous Scouting experiences on a recent camping trip. My very first canoe experience was on a day trip with my Scout troop. My second trip with that troop was a memorable overnighter...Down the Wood River in RI with our whole troop...for some scouts their first experience in a canoe at all...for 15.5-16 miles on the first day, including 5 tough portages. We found an abandoned cabin where the Wood River flowed into the Pawcatuck River and basically set up camp and collapsed. Everyone was exhausted.
Well, that was exactly the place we all camped last weekend! The cabin is long gone, but that campsite will always be my favorite in the State.
The next day we were supposed to camp in one more spot on the wat to Westerly, but it poured rain all day that next day and we finally bagged it (after 12 more miles and another portage). Most of the kids, including me, passed out and slept the whole way home.
Over my years in the Scout troop, the troop did many more overnight canoe trips, usually on the Saco River in Maine. They were all a lot easier and better organized than that first one. And it definitely planted the canoe camping seed into me, although it took a few more years and a detour into whitewater kayaking before it took root.
Well, that was exactly the place we all camped last weekend! The cabin is long gone, but that campsite will always be my favorite in the State.
The next day we were supposed to camp in one more spot on the wat to Westerly, but it poured rain all day that next day and we finally bagged it (after 12 more miles and another portage). Most of the kids, including me, passed out and slept the whole way home.
Over my years in the Scout troop, the troop did many more overnight canoe trips, usually on the Saco River in Maine. They were all a lot easier and better organized than that first one. And it definitely planted the canoe camping seed into me, although it took a few more years and a detour into whitewater kayaking before it took root.
My stint in the Scouts was short lived. I learned a few knots and took the motto of "Be Prepared" to heart. The best thing was the Boy Scout Manual, I really studied it and thought it was everything you needed to know for camping and the outdoors. Another thing that I still have is a pair of those knee high summer socks. I got them in 1972 and broke them out last month when I ran short of socks. That stuff was good quality.
Unfortunately, Scouting never appealed to me. That and asking my parents to commit to the long ride across town to meetings sort of ended it after one meeting. I’m sure we could have joined a car pool but I knew it wasn’t for me so no sense.
By then I had spent a few summers at a family friend’s cottage in Ontario and I was capable of soloing a canoe, cleaning pike and roaming the bush by myself so (mistakenly?) I just never felt the attraction to scouting.
By then I had spent a few summers at a family friend’s cottage in Ontario and I was capable of soloing a canoe, cleaning pike and roaming the bush by myself so (mistakenly?) I just never felt the attraction to scouting.
