I started to make a push in December to recruit OA members to attend the annual banquet. The OA is not particularly strong in our troop. In fact, I was surprised earlier in the year when one of our scouts declined to go to the spring conclave in order to tap out. His one-year time limit would expire and he would basically be unable to join the OA because he would be eighteen by the time he would be re-eligible for election. I was going to approach him about his decision and see if I could convince him of the importance of the honor but I didn't know him that well so I wasn't comfortable to do that.. Anyway, I have decided to help make the OA more visible in our troop so that the younger boys have a positive impression or the order.
Anyway, I was only able to recruit one scout to go but Frank and Connie Novak and their son, Josh, who's an Assistant Scoutmaster, decided to come. Gary Swegel was going to come too, but he had to cancel out at the last minute because of a special last minute family gathering. So the five of us piled into our van for the two-hour drive to Freeport.
We had a good time driving to the banquet. All the adults spent the time trading old camping stories. The lone scout just sat there quietly soaking it all in. I'm not sure if he felt like the proverbial fly on the wall or if he sat there thinking we were all nuts and couldn't wait to get out!
We got to Byron, which is south of Rockford, early. So we parked and everyone headed in except Frank and I. We both brought cigars and decided to walk around the block and have a smoke. We almost made it all the way around when we met an older gentleman. He introduced himself to us as a former local leader. He and Frank new several of the same people and the caught each other up on some of the real, behind-the-scenes goings on at Camp Lauden.
Back inside, we hooked back up with the other folks. I went to the trading post table to purchase my lodge flap and a new sash. My Ordeal Sash from the seventies was way to small on me. Plus I was going to include it in my framed display with all of my scouting patches. Then we sat down for dinner.
It was a typical family style dinner except you had to line up cafeteria style to get your plate of food. We were in the next to last row of tables and it took nearly an hour for us to get our dinner. We didn't mind because we just stood in line chatting away, which is what we would have done at the table anyway!
After dinner, the hosting chapter's indian dance team performed. The hall, in the basement of a church, was not a great place to see the dancing. Most of the dancing and all of their footsteps were obscured by the tables and diners. But it was still very entertaining.
My favorite dance was the Ribbon Dance where they held six cloth ribbons, two of each color, red, yellow and blue. The red stood for the blood in their veins, the yellow for the sun and the blue was for the sky above. All six were tied in the center and they dance in a circle with three dancers moving in opposition to the other three. They bobbed up and down and in and out so that they were weaving a braid of the colors as they danced. Then they reversed their steps and unbraided the cord they had just woven.
The ride home was uneventful, except that Alan fell asleep. He had worked all day and barely had time to change before we left. I hope we get a bigger contingent of scouts next time. The OA is an important step in a young man's scouting career and more of our troop's brothers need to me more involved.
This was a trip to the American Academy of Science's new Peggy Noteabart Nature Museum and then on to the Lincoln Park Zoo just north of downtown Chicago. The original plan was to go all the way to the station downtown. But I altered the plan so we'd get off at the Clyborn station, just north of downtown. We could then take the Armatage bus straight east to Lincoln Park. This would save us at least a half-hour of travel time plus eliminate the need to transfer to a second bus.
The weather was perfect. It had snowed like crazy the day before, enough so that some parents were calling to see if the trip was still on. But everything was cleared by the next day. In fact, the fresh snow in Lincoln Park was a very nice touch. It was still clean and white so it sort of dressed up the park a bit.
It was a short four-block walk north from the bus stop to the museum. We were there fifteen minutes early. The staff was very helpful has they gave us a large locker for the day to store our coats and daypacks.
The boys really enjoyed the water exhibit. There was a huge table filled with sand where they could build ravines and dams. There were a few waterspouts where the water would turn on periodically so you could see how it flows. Unfortunately, the exhibit wasn't working. So they spent a half-hour building and waiting for nothing. But they didn't seem to mind.
My favorite exhibit was the butterfly room. It's an atrium where they have six or so species of butterflies flitting about. The butterflies were cool, but I really was fascinated by the hatchery. It was the size of a medium dresser. The bottom part was were the mechanical parts were that maintained the proper humidity and temperature. The top part, which resembled a hutch with glass doors, had row after row of crystalists.
There was a row of Monarch crystalis, bright emerald green with circles of gold spots ringing them. And there was a row or two of another species that resembled a dried shriveled up leaf but had gold metallic spots on it. Most were fresh and full. But some of the crystalist were dried and emptied. There were a few butterflies hanging on some. One whose had recently emerged with his wings all crumpled. Others already flexed out their wings and were waiting for them to dry before their maiden flight.
We ate lunch at the museum and then headed half a block south to the Lincoln Park zoo. There were some collage students competing in a snow sculpturing contest by the entrance. But we were there too early to see any form yet. They al looked like big blocks of snow.
We all had a good time at the zoo. But then it started to get late in the afternoon. Everyone was getting tired, bored and a little cold as the sun started to drop down, as did the temperature. So we headed back towards the bus stop. A bus pulled up as we neared the intersection. I made a dash across the street as the light started to turn in a hope to catch the bus before it puled away. I did!
Too bad too. Because the ride back to Clyborn only took ten minutes and then we had to wait fifty minutes for our train. I was a little afraid of missing the train because it was the last one back to McHenry. But the scouts managed to busy themselves and the train eventually came before anyone got too cold.
Later, on the train, a rider came up to me and she complimented me on having such a well-behaved group. Yes they were.
It had been at least seventeen years since I dropped out of the OSA. I decided to finally rejoin since I'm back in scouting again. It was remarkable! When I walked in and ran into the folks I haven't seen in such a long time, it felt like it was only last week that we last talked. I was welcomed back into the fold with reservations. Of course, we're all a little older and some of us are heavier and grayer and don't have as much hair as we used to have. But still everyone was pretty much the same as they were back in the seventies.
The last time I went to a banquet it was on Archer Avenue somewhere in a VFV hall or some similar type of place. It was a family style affair, very casual. Bill Lotter hauled out his squeezebox and everybody sang camp songs all night. This was more like a wedding banquet. We are getting older! In a way, I miss the "dining hall" program atmosphere. I guess they reserve that for the campfires during the Fit-it weekends they run at Owasippe. I'll have to make sure I go.
There was a fair amount of reminiscing about the good old days. A few real good tales were told. But there was also a good balance of exchanging information on what folks were up to currently. As well as a good measure of what the OSA intends to do in the future. This organization has truly matured. The OSA today plays an integral part of the operation and success of Owasippe. This year's is project is raising money for new showers in each campsite at Camp Carlin. Then the OSA members are going to install them all during the two spring Fix-It weekends.
This is a far cry from the early days when the Chicago Area Council resented the efforts of the rogue OSA and tried to literally quash it. I gathered from conversations with several folks that the reservation was in pretty sad shape in the early to mid-nineties. And that it was through the efforts of many of the OSA members that either volunteered time or actually secured positions of responsibility at Owasippe that was instrumental in it's turnaround into a growing vibrant program again.
Hearing these stories, plus the tales of years gone by, made me realize that I was a part of an era at Owasippe when it was at it's peak. There were six section camps with approximately 300 scout each during eight weeks in the summer. The program that we ran was second to none in providing a true camping experience for thousands of boys each summer. These thoughts really started to make m feel proud. And the knowledge that some of my peers where still involved to a level where their commitment was to actively continue upon that tradition, well that moved me. I was riding an emotional high this night. The combination of the reunion with old friends and fellowships along with the realization of the role I had played decades ago, made my heart grow.
I don't have the resources or time to rededicate myself to Owasippe. But I really do want to make a strong effort to return there with my sons. I need to show them the land where I grew up and where my heart still lies.
One of the sadder moments at the banquet was hearing that the CAC had indeed sold off the land around Owasippe Lake. I knew it would happen, but to actually have it confirmed hit me hard. Chauncey's wife, Mary Beth, told me that I wouldn't even recognize it. The housing development landscaped the area to the point were you can't even tell were the camps were located. She said Chauncey will not go down there because he doesn't want to alter the vision of the camps in his memory.
I feel the same way. I will not go there again so I can keep my hallowed memories clear.
This is one of our "close" campouts. The troop tries to alternate close and far campouts every other month to make it easier to recruit drivers. Marengo Ridge is a McHenry Conservation District site and is about 45 minutes from McHenry. We had a good crowd this campout, about two dozen scouts and 9 leaders.
The game plan was to camp this weekend without tents. It was a challenge from the Flamin' Caiman patrol that all of the other patrols, including the Rocking Chair Patrol. But it started to rain when we arrived, so I chickened out, along with a few other leaders. I had a lousy week and really needed to get some sleep, so I decided not to take a chance.
But most of the kids did except the new patrol, the Raptors, didn't because it was their first outing.
This was the first outing where we ran the Silver Spoon Award for best patrol meal. I drafted up the idea and rules last fall. It seemed that every meal the Rocking Chair Patrol made drew a crowd. We'd have dutch oven breakfast while the scouts menu had cold cereal or donuts. We'd have chop suey or some other tasty dinner, while the scout patrols would have grilled cheese and tomato soup. There's nothing wrong with their menus. They're filling and nutritious. But they lack creativity and fun. Then the scout would wander over by our patrol site and say, "Gee! That looks good. Can I have a taste?" So I invented the contest as a way to spice up their meals a bit while emphasizing camp cooking skills and the patrol method and camaraderie. And it worked.
An added benefit to the contest was that the leaders served as judges. So we didn't have to prepare a dinner, or clean up. But we visited our assigned patrols while they were in preparation so we could judge their skills and teamwork. Then we'd sit back at our campsite and watch them from afar. All of the patrols took the contest to heart. I was afraid that some, especially the older scouts, would pooh-pooh it and blow it off. But they didn't and we all were rewarded because of it.
I was assigned to the Raptors patrol, the ones on their first campout. They used the tried-and-true Meal in a Foil with ground beef patties. They did an amazing job for their first time. They even decorated their tale with a centerpiece, an empty coffee can wrapped in foil with some dandelion flowers scattered on top. The wolverines had Mexican Pizzas, toppings with cheese grilled between two tortillas. The Flamin' Caimans made a special homemade Macaroni and Cheese recipe from one of the scout's family cookbook. And the winning patrol, the Lightning Patrol, made a Dutch Oven Beef Stew with fresh biscuits.
The Senior Patrol Leader awarded the spoon to the Lightning Patrol Leader, at that evening's campfire. The award itself is a stainless steel serving spoon with a leather-braided loop. So now the Lightning Patrol can display the award on their patrol flag until the next contest!
This is a training program for new leaders. Scoutmasters, Assistant Scoutmasters and Committee Members from different troops in the district, Sycamore, learn the fundamentals of running a troop. They changed the name to Basic Training, but that name hasn't stuck yet and no one uses that name when referring to the session.
Our district holds the training in two parts. First there's an evening orientation session. The leaders are broken up into different patrols. They usually try to split attendees from the same troop into different patrols. But Jeff Nowland, a new Assistant Scoutmaster, and I ended up in the same patrol together. The patrol picks a name based upon a theme selected by the Scoutmaster. This year, the Scoutmaster, Jeff Moritz, picked raptors as the theme. Our patrol quickly selected Screaming' Bald Eagles as our patrol name. And our yell is, "Scouting is making me BALD, BALD, BALD!" The emphasis on the last three words is to make them sound like an eagle's scream.
John Murphy was elected patrol leader and I volunteered to be his assistant. We also started work on our flag, a drawn image of a bald eagle with a piece of fake fur glued on top like bad toupee'. And we got our final instructions on what we needed in terms of equipment. The staff was sort of vague on what we were going to do with some of these items, like, three flat stones." But it's not too hard to guess if you've been in the program for a while (utensil-less cooking).
It'll be fun, as it will be a chance to be a kid, so to speak. We're a patrol and the staff will present challenges to us like a real scout patrol between training sessions. I'm sure that at least half of it will be somewhat redundant for me because of my past experience in scouting. Serving on Owasippe's staff, in particular, provided me with a wealth of knowledge and experience. But you're never too old to learn and this will be a new experience. The scouting program has changed since I was a scout and this will help me understand the differences. It's also a chance to meet and network with new people outside of our troop. I'm sure they have new things I can learn from their own individual experiences.
Our patrol guide is Bob Merand. He noticed that I was wearing an Owasippe Lodge pin on my uniform. He asked if I was originally from that lodge, which I was. It turns out that he was too and was the Lodge Chief the year before I was inducted. He also worked at Owasippe as a CIT in 1969, my first year at Stuart. He worked at Stuart that year but not during the same two weeks our troop was there. It's amazing how the ties of brotherhood formed through scouting are bound for a lifetime.
It was touch and go whether or not I was going to go. My wife and I had a surf-n-turf dinner to celebrate or twentieth anniversary the night before. The next morning I suffered from a mild case of food poisoning. Fortunately, I recovered by mid-day and felt well enough to go.
Frank Gualillo showed up with our finished flag. He and his wife (mostly his wife I think) painted the eagle so it looked quite spectacular. The small toupee' of white rabbit fur on top drew a big laugh when he presented it to the Scoutmaster and the rest of the troop at our first meeting Friday night.
The district ran a great program. They mixed classroom-training sessions on running a troop and BSA organizational structure and policies. They also had a bunch of demos to teach us scout skills. These demos both taught us the skill and showed us how we could teach the boys in turn. Some of the highlights included a dutch oven demo and a utensil-less cooking demo that turned into our hands-on cook your own lunch session.
The dutch oven demo was very effective because Marty showed how a cooking demo can be done in a very sort time slot. He and his assistants were very well prepared with most of the recipes, such as cupcake batter, prepared in advance.
Jeff Moritz ran the utensil-less demo where we ended up cooking our own lunch. I cooked a hamburger meatball in a hollowed out orange, saving the inside of the orange for an appetizer. I also grilled a small patty on a flat rock. Jeff Nowland and I split a cup of onion and green pepper slices boiled in a paper cup filled with lemonade. Jeff had seen the Flaimin' Caiman patrol cooked onions in Mountain Dew soda the weekend before for the Silver Spoon Award contest. For desert, I had a baked apple with melted cinnamon candy inside the hollowed out core.
Our group gelled real well. We all seem to have very similar tastes in humor, which quickly garnished us a reputation with the other patrols as being sort of renegades. Someone from our patrol always seemed ready with a quick and clever barb or retort at the right moment. Nothing nasty, although I suspect that a few members of the Knight owls did not like it when we added an ad hoc phrase to their patrol cheer. They would say, "Who. Who. Who. Who? The Knight owls." To which we added, "That's who!" Nothing we said or did was in anyway meant to be mean spirited, just friendly inter-patrol rivalry. But the Owls first patrol leader was a woman whose family has a long scouting tradition and I think she didn’t like our improvisations and viewed them with slight disdain.
I grew up in a dinning hall camp so I have predisposition to whooping it up during a dining hall type of program. Many of the attendees were new to scouting and weren't even scouts as a kid. So they tended to be more reserved. So my hollering, which was quickly picked up by the rest of the Screaming Bald Eagles, may have unsettled them a bit. We were most likely the patrol with the most vocal spirit in the troop, and we wore that distinction proudly.
Actually, that's part of the system or culture. Leaders must exhibit a "rah-rah" attitude with the scouts. Most kids are too busy acting cool to let their guard down. This actually impedes their ability to join into the fraternity. Once they do adopt the scouting way, it's not likely to ever leave them and they will be part of the brotherhood for life. Once you let yourself go, then it's much easier to learn. You become a more active member of the patrol. Then your patrol performs better. Then the leadership opportunities are stronger and the pride from doing things right and doing them well runs stronger. So I have no qualms about getting rowdy, but not disruptive, in a dining hall.
My patrol did well. We met every learning opportunity well, completed our patrol tasks easily, such as cooking meals and cleaning up afterwards, and we quickly bonded into a group that opened up to each other to share ideas and tips. So the weekend was a complete success. I learned how the scouting organization works, picked up some new skills, and met some other leaders I now call friends. I guess that's all part of scouting.
This trip was not a typical campout. Over 1,000 Boy Scouts, Cub Scouts and Girl Scouts set up their tents in the Sauk County Fair Grounds, Baraboo, Wisconsin. Everyone sets up in the fair ground's grassy parking lot. Our site was in a back corner, which is all right because we wouldn't get a lot of foot traffic with folks cutting through. But it also meant that we were right next to the Porta-Johns and the road. So between the doors of the Porta-Johns slamming and the local teenage hot rodders cruising' by honking their horns, there wasn't much hope for sleep.
After the opening parade, the boys split up and set out to town and the Circus World Museum for the day. They had a craft fair in the center of town, so we wandered through the booths a bit. But the biggest hit was a CD store that sold used CDs and movies. My son insisted on spending his pocket money on a movie, "Kindergarten Cop." Oh, well.
We made it to the museum in time for the first show under the big top. The boys were not overly enthusiastic about the historical implications of seeing a circus performed under canvas. But their interest changed as soon as the show started. And it was a great show. The opening act was a trained Pekinese dog act. There was also a tightrope-balancing act, a stationary trapeze duo, twirling girls on a rope and an elephant act. A clown duet that entertained the audience between acts
The hit of the show for the boys were the two girls on the twirling ropes, Emily and Jennifer I think were their names. Their act was very impressive, synchronized movements while they bent this way and that, right side up and upside down. But what really impressed the boys were the girls' physiques. They were both young, in great shape and "well built." They tried to be discreet about their infatuations, but it's hard for young boys with flowing testosterone to hold back their true emotions.
After the show, we grabbed a quick lunch at the nearest food stand and watched the museum demonstration on how the circus would load and unload circus wagons from the flatbed train cars with a team of horses and a crew of Razorbacks. The term razorback was a shortening of the team boss' yell, "Raise your backs!"
After lunch we went to a new, smaller show at the wooden hippodrome. The boys weren't to keen about sitting through another show. They had decided that they wanted to go back into town to the CD store. That is until the curtain raise and… Ta da!, Emily and Jennifer! The performers actually work several acts during the course of the day, much like a real circus. This show was more a vaudeville style show. The tie to the circus is that many circus performers worked the vaudeville circuit during the winter. The show included a juggler, the clowns, a couple of magic acts and music.
Next we spent a few brief moments in the building were the store restored circus wagons. It's incredible the craftsmanship that went into their construction and restoration! But the boys could care less. They walked from one end to the other without stopping. I slowed everyone down by stopping to read the plaques on some of the more interesting wagons. The boys were more interested in going to the CD store.
The museum staff had started a mall circus parade around the grounds by the time we left the wagon building. The boys were mildly interested until they spotted Emily and Jennifer riding on top of the elephants! We followed the end of the parade towards the exit. Then Mr. Swegel noticed Emily and Jennifer heading our way on their way to the dressing rooms to change for the next how. He intercepted them and asked if we could take their picture with the boys, to which they agreed. But the boys seemed almost frozen in disbelief! Mr. Swegel actually had to call to them twice before they moved next to the girls. After the girls were out of ear shot, both Mr. Swegel and I said we'd be happy to sell copies of the prints to the boys!
After a quick visit to another building, we left the museum to head back into town for the CD store. We wandered the street booths for a while longer, lamenting that the food in town was much better than what we ate at the museum. So we treated ourselves to ice cream at Dairy Queen on the way back to the fair grounds.
The council's OA lodge is very active in organizing and running this event. On of the barns was set aside as an OA Corral, where different chapters and individuals had displays or activities. There was rope making, T-shirt silk screening, OA Promotions and more.
On table that caught my attention had beautiful examples of beading. Tiny ceramic glass beads woven on thread to produce stunning OA sashes, replicas of pocket flaps and Indian costume accessories. I had seen beaded OA sashes for the first time at this year's winter banquet. They caught my attention because the colors are so bright. Many also have decorated the backside with pictograms representing the Legend of the Lenne Linape, the story that forms the basis for much of the OA induction ceremony.
An older gentleman, who goes by the nickname "Tichora Beadweaver" spent a good part of an hour showing me his work and describing how it done. The work was so entrancing that I have decided to try beading myself this summer on the bus ride up to summer camp.
After dinner on Saturday, there was an awards ceremony and a performer scheduled at the fair grounds. The performer's name was Bob Rumba! The emcee mentioned that he had been on Oprah and a few other TV shows, as well as being voted "Most funniest so-and-so" by some group. But he was terrible! His ventriloquist bits could have been funny, but he was so far away from our seats that he could have been moving his lips and we couldn't tell. We stuck it out even though everyone, including the boys, wanted to leave. Most of the boys were tired and cold so they hit the sack right away.
Sunday morning we packed up and headed out without incident. Breakdown went so smooth that the boys had an extra half-hour to wander around the fair grounds, visiting the patch museum and the concession stand. On the way home, we rode the ferry across the Wisconsin River. It was a nice smooth ride across the river.
Most of the scouts decided to skip this campout. I suppose it's too close to home, plus summer camp is only a few weeks away. So only six camped out and one came on Saturday, making it a total of seven scouts. Five were from the Lightning patrol and two were from the Wolverines. So it was basically a patrol campout.
The most difficult part of this campout was finding the site. We were following Mrs. Novak’s instructions, but we ended up driving back-and-forth through the preserve looking for the Group Camping site. Mr. Bauman and Mr. Willis eventually found it.
The "patrol outing" environment worked out because we arranged to divide cooking up into temporary cooking patrols so that the Second Class scouts could complete their First Class cooking requirements. Later, Mr. Bauman and I also went over and tested for the compass and orienteering requirements as well. We laid out an orienteering course that ran through the woods and criss-crossed a large field. At times, the course ran through some thistles and other uncomfortable underbrush. It wasn't intended, but it did add to the challenge. Everyone did well and passed so it was a very successful campout.
The small number of boys attending also meant there were not as many parents showing up for the Court of Honor. But we didn't let the size affect the outcome. We had a very nice time. In fact, it's sometimes nicer with a small group as things seem a bit less hectic.
It started to rain near Wausau, a little over an hour away from camp. So the skies were gray and a light rain was falling as we emptied out of the bus. Fortunately, the campsite was less than ten minutes away from where the bus dropped us off. Still, it's no fun setting up camp in the rain. But before we did that, we headed on down to the waterfront for our swimming test. I don't recall ever taking the test in the rain before. But it was no big deal. Actually, the water in the lake seemed warmer than rain, so it was quite pleasant.
Back at the Circus World Heritage campout this spring, I met and talked with a gentleman who inspired me to try beading myself. So I ordered a loom, beads and downloaded some patterns. I decided to start off with a few small pocket ribbons. These are little dangles with the red OA arrow on a white background. The ribbons hang from the pocket button under the OA pocket flap. I made one for Gary and I.
I had a lot of problems with thread. I kept breaking the eye of my needles. I later found out that the kit was missing the thin nylon thread for beading and only included the thicker, button thread used for the warfing. Oh, well! I have since then bought the correct thread and it is MUCH easier! You can read more about my beading project on my Scouting Resources page.
Larry Nelson and Gary Swegel decided that they were going to go hiking every day. I joined them on two of their forays. The first was around Lake Lillian, which is the main lake around the camp. The second was a small jaunt around Muskrat Lake, which was a small lake surrounded by a bog. David Reed and John Dunford joined us on this trek.
The Killian Lake trail circles the main lake that both East Camp and West Camp use. It's a bit damp and swampy at the southern end where the lake drains out into a small stream. Other than that it's an easy trail. We startled a young Bald Eagle that nests at the southern end. And we spied upon some loons that live at the slightly more remote northern end. The northern end is not totally isolated because the road from the main entrance splits just north of East Camp and loops back over the northern end on its way to West Camp. But there are no Scouts running back and forth, only cars and the occasional hiker. So the loons, which are usually very secretive, are comfortable enough to nest there.
Our most unusual find was a pair of adult sized Scout shorts with a large set of keys, including car keys! We had just passed the West Camp waterfront, so I double backed and turned them into a councilor. He didn't seem to think it was odd, although I wonder how someone could come to "lose" his shorts down by the lake and not know where to find them. An old tradition in scouting is to made person who has lost something to sing for the found item. I would have loved to hear the "song" for these shorts. It would likely be more of a "song and dance!"
The second hike, which was on Friday, was a loop around Muskrat Lake. Muskrat Lake is a small lake just north of camp. The entire loop is about three miles. But the path goes up and down a few steep hills so there's a little challenge.
I was having a good time noticing some of the unusual environment. We tumbled upon some Indian pipe, which is colorless, saphropyllic plant without chlorophyll. It lives off the roots of living trees, much like mushrooms and fungus feed off of decaying roots and material. Only this is a true vascular plant. We also walked through a area were there was a lightning strike about a decade earlier. You could see the charred remains of burnt logs, remnants of the trees that stood. The area had some new trees growing in their place, but it was still more open to the sky than the surrounding woods.
John mentioned as we started out that he and Bob discovered that there were no oak trees at Ma-Ka-Ja-Wan. That wasn't entirely true. I started to look for oaks as we hiked the loop. I started to find plenty of seedlings, some as tall as fifteen feet high, but no adult trees. This is odd and I wonder how that came to be. My guess is that the land must have been cleared once, either for logging or farming, and all of the mature oaks cut down. In their place, the softer and faster growing white and yellow birch, red maple, hemlock and red pines grew up fast. Now the oak seedlings are just starting to reintroduce themselves to the woods. Where the acorns came from is a mystery that would require more investigation, which we didn't have time to do.
The path circled the lake but we never did see it. We did see a sphagnum moss bog with black spruce. I think the bog is an off shoot or the very end tip of the lake. None the less, we were slightly disappointed when the path brought us back to the gravel road just a half mile or so north of where stated from. As we started to head back to camp, David noticed a tall cool grove a spruce and said he though the lake could be found by heading through the inviting grove. "Does anybody feel like going bush-whacking?," he asked. No objected so he led us off into the woods. It was dark and cool under the tightly knit boughs of the spruce. We followed the trees along a slightly rising ridge. Then off to our left, David found the lake.
So we "bush-whacked" off towards the lake. We couldn't get to the shoreline proper because a sphagnum moss bog surrounds the entire lake. We ventured out onto the bog for a short ways to get a closer look. The panorama view across the lake to the tree line on the other side is beautiful. There's a mix of broadleaf trees and conifers that gives northern Wisconsin that picturesque look. The bog also had some small spruce seedlings slowly a short distance onto the moss. Each successive generation is slowly working it way closer to the lake. Eventually they will get there and begin the slow process of choking the lake. It's the natural evolution of a glacial lake and we were standing in the middle of it.
I also found so Pitcher Plants on the bog. These are vase shaped carnivorous plants. The inside of the pitcher files up with rainwater that gets saturated with digestive enzymes. Small insects are attracted to its scent and get trapped, unable to crawl out because of the downward pointing hairs that line the inside. One of them was flowering. It produced a large bulbous flower that more resembles a large lily seedpod, except that it has the parts of a flower.
We soaked up our fill of the Muskrat Lake in it' isolation. Only a few folks would manage to find their way to the point where we stood, if anyone ever has. Then we headed on back to the road. We did get one more surprise as we hiked along the road. Gary noticed the loons on the lake. Several of us had small pairs of binoculars so we were able to see that it was a female with her young chicks riding atop her back. Her head swiveled back and forth as she looked about for any sign of danger. I had never been so close to loons before as I have been this week. I think that their haunting laugh, curious antics and secretive behavior is what attracts people to them and creates a mystique that has become legendary.
My second project for the week was to dye some white cotton yarn using natural dyes. My instructor at National Camping School, Joe "Duke" Olechno, had done this back in 1977 when he tie-dyed t-shirts but I missed it. Dave Tala remembers it but I don't. I think they had us switch off to different sections one afternoon when he did it. So Dave, who was in the Field Sports section, switched over to Ecology for an afternoon, while Ecology moved to another section. Which one, I don't recall.
Dave reminded me of the T-shirt while on the phone one evening. So I decided it would be a cool camp project. I asked around and found Joe's current email. I hadn't seen or corresponded with him in over twenty years! That's the great thing about scouting. The bonds of brotherhood are for life.
Joe gave me some tips and pointed me to some internet sites to find more information. I managed to learn more about dying then I ever imagined. One of the keys is to properly cleanse the yarn to remove oils and residues. Otherwise the dye won't take. Then you either soak in a mordant before or after the dying process. The mordant helps the dye molecules adhere to the yarn, making it "color fast." There are several different mordents, most of which are toxic. So I settled on alum. It's easy to obtain and use and is not toxic, which is important. I found a source, The Fold, for alum and scour, the cleansing detergent, out of Marango. Toni Neil, the owner, was very nice and even hand delivered the chemicals to me because I needed them before I left for camp.
I also had to adjust the technique a little bit because we were at summer camp and not in the kitchen. I brought a collection of small coffee and vegetable cans to use as my dye pots. I also made some stirrers and hooks out of carved twigs. We scrounged up a couple of five-gallon bucket from the dining hall kitchen. One was an empty peanut butter bucket and the other an empty pickle bucket.
Unfortunately, most of the scouts were not interested in what I was doing. They decided I was nuts for going around collecting mushrooms on my hike or snagging a bunch of Sumac leaves and berries on the way back from dinner. But I foraged ahead anyway. But Mr. Nowland and Mr. Reed started to take an interest in my project. Especially as I started to pull out dark browns and bright yellows and oranges from my dye pots. I explained how I was introduced to the concept years ago by Joe's tie-dying demonstration.
Jeff suggested that we tie dye T-shirt too. I had used up most of my material so we decided to take a road trip to town to restock. We bought some T-shirts and alum. I saved the scour solution so we could re use that. But we needed more dye material. The two brightest colors were the yellow from Sumac leaves and the orange from yellow onion skins. The Sumac was plentiful at camp but we needed more onion skins, and lots of them.
So we went into the grocery store and approached the produce manager. She was taken aback for a moment, but allowed us to "harvest" excess skins from the onion bins. So Jeff and I are there filling up a bag with just onion skins. We got quite a few odd looks. Jeff commented that even if they did charge us, the bag was so light it would only cost us pennies.
That evening, the three of us and three scouts tie-dyed our T-shirts. I was worried that they would turn out bad but they're actually cool looking. I put more information on my Scouting Resources page.
Once I had my dyed yarns, my next step was to braid them. I had found a friendship bracelet pattern on the web that produced a chevron pattern. The instructions called for four colors but I used six. This produced a band that I wrapped around the top of my hiking staff. I then braided the end into several smaller strands using a traditional three-strand braid. I use these to thread the activity beads we receive for each outing or activity. A few months later, I braided a cord that I attached as a wrist strap so I don't accidentally drop the staff. All in all, the dying and braiding projects turned out great.
The forecast for our last night was for thunderstorms. But we got more than that. I hit the sack just after midnight. You could see the flashes of lightning and hear the low rumble of thunder way off to the north. But ever few minutes you'd notice that the flashes where a little bit brighter and the thunder a little bit louder. The storm was moving in.
Shortly after a zipped up the sleeping bag, it started to rain. Usually, the gentle "tap tap tap" of raindrops on a tent is soothing. But these drops were pounding the nylon like a snare drum. The brilliant flashes of lightning lit up the inside of the tent as if I had a halogen lamp inside. This was some storm.
I know I dozed off now and then, but I didn't really fall asleep. It was more like I was taking little catnaps. The storm kept building with each passing hour. Louder and louder the rain pelted the tent until you could no longer head individual raindrops falling. The lightning and thunder seemed as if it were one continuos stream of light and booms. This was some storm!
At four a.m., I glanced over at my weather radio. The little green light was now furiously blinking red. There was a weather warning. The storm was so loud I did not even hear the audible alarm! The National Weather Service was issuing a flash flood warning for an area that included the town of Pickerel, which was just west of camp. Our campsite was up on a slight rise so we were in no danger and the winds were not too strong (the biggest danger in a tent is high winds knocking down branches or whole trees). There was no way I was going to fall asleep now. This was some storm!
Finally, around five a.m., it started to let up. So I opened the zipper to take a peek outside. Nothing had washed away but our tent was in a huge puddle three inches deep. The rain had fallen so hard and fast that it didn't have time to soak into the soil. I later found out that Larry Nelson opened his zipper a few minutes later only to let a gush of water rush into his tent. The zipper on his tent was near the ground were ours was about half a foot higher. This was some storm.
The camp councilor who was assigned to check us out was due to arrive at six a.m. and I still had some packing to do. So I decided not to climb back into the sleeping bag. By the time our assigned staff man arrived, who turned out to be Jive Monkey from the EcoCon area (ecology/Conservation), the rain had stopped. Everything that wasn't under cover was soaked. Even gear in the tents was super damp from the humidity. But we were headed home that morning so everything got packed wet.
So we piled into the bus a little damp but in good spirits. Overall, it was a very successful camp. About a quarter of the scouts completed enough requirements to advance up to their next rank. And the overall merit badge tally ended up at 40.
What a disaster! This was the worst campout I have ever been on. The original plan was to spend our long weekend campout at Devils Lake State Park in Wisconsin. Devils Lake is a wonderful place to camp. It's a pristine, spring fed lake between two 500-foot high, parallel bluffs of ancient quartzite. The hiking trails to the top, the cool rock formations and swimming in the clear lake make this Wisconsin's most popular state park.
But they were booked by the time we were ready to make our reservations so we ended up at near-by Mirror Lake State Park. It's only fifteen miles or so away from Devils Lake. But it's also just outside of the Wisconsin Dells, family vacation money pit of the Midwest. I don't mind the Dells, Ive been there with my family for many years. But it's a family vacations spot rather than a scout weekend campground. It's loaded with go-carts, roller coaster, mini-golf, restaurants, water parks, T-shirt and fudge shops and a few river attractions to view the marvelous sandstone formations along the Wisconsin River. But it's not a scout camp.
We ended up going to Noahs Ark water park, riding the Original Wisconsin Ducks and walking the strip. The boys were keen to stop at every T-shirt shop to read each and every obscene or suggestive T-shirt they could before a leader shagged them away. We did manage to spend an afternoon at Devils Lake, which is as georgious as I remembered it. But delays in cleaning up after breakfast literally stole hours out of our day so we almost had to rush along the trail on the east bluff, not what I had hoped for when we planned this trip at the beginning of the year.
There were other problems too, such as not all of the food being purchased, and other problems I'm not going to detail. But it was the worst outing I've ever been on and I was sorely disappointed. I hope I never have to experience a weekend like that again.
I didn't attend this outing. I had a commitment on Friday evening so my son went alone with the troop. My wife and I drove up late Saturday afternoon for the Court of Honor. My son was wheezing pretty bad by the time we arrived. The camp is a converted gravel pit that was donated to the Northeaster Illinois Council. They boys had played Capture the Flag before we arrived and all of the dust from them running around triggered an asthma attack with my son. The molds and leaf burning smoke of fall contriuted as well. So we packed him up and headed home. He ended up missing a few days of school recovering.
"Camporee 2000 - Not Your Ordinary Camp Experience!"
Every four years in the fall preceding the National Jamboree, Blackhawk Area Councils holds a Council-wide camporee with troops from all over northwestern Illinois and Southwestern Wisconsin instead of the usual District camporee. Besides being a much larger event than the regular Sycamore District Camporee, which is mainly McHenry County, the program areas and events were not organized as a contest, just a bunch of fun things for scouts to do and see.
This was the first weekend in October but the weather was more like the end of November. It was cold and windy. The temperature Friday night sank below freezing. All of our fire buckets besides the tents were frozen. They weren't frozen solid but the ice was over an inch thick, not just a skim coat at the top. I was worried about my son's asthma and warmth. But he was just fine on both accounts. I did have to get up around 2:30 a.m. to make a trip to the restroom (I knew I shouldn't have had that cup of hot cider before bed.). I was surprised by the amount of activity at that time. There were a few cars coming and going as leaders were warming up scouts that weren't quite prepared for the cold. The 24-hr. first aid station had some activity, helping scouts cope with the cold as well.
Saturday, after breakfast, we all went to the grandstand infield for the flag ceremony. Four parachutists skydived down with the last one carrying the American flap. It was pretty impressive as there was a stiff wind from the north, hence the colder than normal weather, and we thought one or two of them shot to far south to make the field. But the square chutes that hey can steer are amazing and they all came on in and hit the spot.
The first demonstration was a accident scene rescue. They had a crashed van with a dummy inside. The Fire department came roaring in with trucks and ambulances. They used the jaws-of-life to pry the dummy from the wreckage and called in the helicopter to airlift the victim out. In swooped the Flight-for-Life helicopter. They transferred the victim and off it went to the nearest hospital. Well, it really circled around and landed again so the scout could get a closer look.
The program area was loaded with a bunch of hands on activities and demos. There was Army equipment, a drag racer and its owner/driver, mountain men with flintlock rifles and muskets making a bunch of noise with their black powder guns. There was a disabilities awareness area where the scouts raced on gravel in wheelchairs, or tried to navigate a cone course while wearing goggles that restricted their vision. Al designed to make them appreciate the obstacles that folks with disabilities face every day. There were monkey bridges, obstacle courses, tomahawk throwing, climbing towers, zip lines, mazes and much more, quite an event for one weekend.
There were also several bands through out the weekend. My son wanted to see the Paul Vertico Trio, a jazz band. None of the other scouts wanted to see them so I went with him. Paul Vertigo is the drummer and Joey was very keen on watching him as My son is playing percussion in the school band. Afterwards, we bought their new CD and asked all three sign it. What a great time..
Before diner, my son slipped into his tent to warm up, just as a few other scouts had done. The tents were a lot warmer than standing out in the wind. And the sun had been shining on them all day keeping the inside nice and toasty. But he didn't come out when it was time for dinner so I went over to get him. He said he wasn't feeling well and that hew cold and that his stomach was upset. He came out and tried a bit of dinner, Scoutmaster Stew, but only ate half a bowl. So I decided to take him to the car for his nightly nebulizer treatment. Is breathing wasn't bad but I thought the warmth of the car heater might help him. But on the way he said he felt like he was going to throw up, so we hung around the restroom for a while. Then he said he wasn't going to so we went to the car. After his treatment he said he still felt sick, so we went back to camp and packed up to go home. I know he wasn't feeling good because he was going to miss the fireworks following Tim Daggett 's (Olympic Gold gymnast) speech... and he loves fireworks.
We pulled out and went to the nearby gas station. Sure enough, he got sick there. He ended up being sick most of the night so it was a good choice to leave when we did. I can't imagine making trips all night to the restroom in that weather.
