Oddly enough, I had never been to a Klondike Derby. It’s like a mini-camporee in the middle of winter. The highlight is a timed dog sled race pulled by scouts. The sled also serves as a cart for the patrol carrying their gear from event to event during the day. The older boys sometimes opt to camp over Friday night. This year we canceled that as the temperatures threatened to drop too low for safe camping.
Still we fielded two patrols, the Scorpions and the Flaming Arrows. Joey ended up in the Flaming Arrows, which was unfortunate as there were some kids lumped in there that were not into participating with the program. Two of the boys were goofing off and a third had "personal issues" with the forth so he just hung back and didn't participate. The rest of the boys were young first year scouts. In fact, only one in Joey's patrol had ever been to a Klondike before so they were at a serious disadvantage.
I choose to take a back seat and let Joey go on his own. I didn’t want to be the dad hovering around him all day. It turns out to have been a poor decision as the patrol fell why behind and didn’t even complete all of the events. The net effect of the problems ended up that not one of the boys stepped up to lead, either by admonishing the trouble makers or by rallying them together as a team. Too bad, now Joey doesn’t ever want to go to a Klondike Derby again.
On a positive note, the Scorpions kicked butt on a couple of events and ended up in second place overall, the best effort for the troop so far. They actually came pretty close to beating the “Iron Man” patrol from Crystal Lake. They seemed to be the patrol to beat every year, partially because they stack the patrol with 17 and 18-year-old scouts, a distinct advantage.
The original plan for the February outing was to go to the Museum of Science and Industry’s Snoozeum were the boys would have slept in the museum over night. I was not too keen on the idea as it’s very expensive. I suggested that we go to the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum and Lincoln Park Zoo instead. Joey and I went there with Troop 131 and it was a good day trip. He said it sounded like a good idea to him so I made the arrangements.
We followed a nearly identical itinerary. We boarded the Metra train in McHenry and debarked at Clyborn. The conductors and the engineer were great. In fact, since we were basically the only passengers from McHenry, the engineer allowed our boys to go up to the cab door two at a time and he showed them how he drove the train. We then caught the CTA buss down North Avenue all the way to Lincoln Park. From there we walked the three blocks north to the museum. The weather was cold and blustery so the walking was tough. We were about 45 minutes ahead of schedule so we decided to stop in the Lincoln Park Conservatory, which was just a half block before the museum.
It was a welcome relief to walk into a tropical climate from the blizzard outside. It took about five minutes for my glasses to defog! It was a very nice side trip as the Winter Flower show was set up. We then went on to the museum until 1:00 p.m., at lunch there and then headed back south to the zoo. The weather was cold but the wind died down so it was quite pleasant.
For the return leg, we caught the 151 express bus all the way to Union Station were we then walked the three blocks north to the Olglvy Transportation Center. With 131 we returned to Clyborn and froze our butts off waiting for the train. We were dependent on catching the CTA bus back to Clyborn so I planned to leave with plenty of time since there was only one train back to McHenry. So this time I decided to go to the downtown station were we cold sit on the train in comfort before it departed. The trip home was mostly uneventful. A few of the boys got a bit rowdy at the end, but that’s not too bad after along day.
This was a high adventure outing Mr. Salkus arranged. At first, Joey didn’t want to so I had to really urge him to go. He came back and was so excited when he came back. He kept telling us how he climbed to the top of the 65-foot tower three times! Later, Mr. Koleno remarked to me how much Joey has grown up and how much of a pleasure it was to have him there. Mike plans on doing more rock climbing outings so I expect he’ll go climbing again without my urging!
Marengo Ridge is one of my favorite camps. It’s close, about 30 minutes away which works well in the early spring as it gets dark early on Friday evening. It’s near enough where we can get tents set up before it gets dark.
I had suggested to Joey that his patrol try cooking pizza in a cardboard oven. We started with a sturdy box and lined it with foil. Then we cut a door on one end and inserted insulation batting rods, thin metal sticks that you press between ceiling joists to hold up insulation batting, across the bottom to hold the pan above the coals. Our oven was open on the bottom. Some designs are totally enclosed and hold the coals in a pie tin supported by three small stones or even bottle caps to raise it off the oven floor. We didn’t have a fully closed box as it really was a large lid that slid down over a slightly smaller box bottom. So we’d place the entire oven on top of the coals on the ground.
Joey mixed the pizza dough from a boxed kit and pressed it into a 9x13 aluminum pan we brought from home. It was slow cooking as there was not enough ventilation. Mr. Mill helped solve the problem by cutting a vent flap near the top. The coals benefited from the increased air flow and the temp inside the oven rose. The meal was a little late but the patrol wolfed it down. So the experiment was a success by all accounts.
Continuing a tradition for Marengo Ridge camp outs, Mr. Koleno and Mr. Mathien conducted their Tote-‘n-Chip and Fireman Chit classes for the new scouts. And Mr. Pepe joined us and brought rope and poles for pioneering projects, a monkey bridge and flagpole. The flagpole went up easily and we used it for flag opening ceremonies. The monkey bridge is a riot as everyone is excited to get on, even before the guy lines between the three main ropes were put in place. This makes it quite unstable and more of a circus act to get across. The last time, Joey slipped and the main rope sliced between his legs as he became “The Human Clothespin,” as Mr. Smeenge called him. This time it was Mr. Koleno’s turn. Near the middle, he lost his balance and footing. He held on, but became entangled and inverted upside down, suspended in the air with his head just gently dragging on the ground. Joey was ready with his camera and snapped a priceless memory of the event!
We had a real treat this weekend. The Northwest Suburban Astronomy Club had scheduled a field trip meeting on Saturday and invited us to visit them in the neighboring field after dark. They had about two dozen different telescopes set up, from small 6-inch to an astonishing large 20-inch telescope. That was amazing! We were actually able to sight in distant galaxies and discern their shape.
This trip was the first backpacking weekend shakedown for the Philmont crew. I was looking forward to the weekend, as I have never been backpacking before and was worried on how my knees would hold up.
We arrived late in the afternoon Friday. The two cars ended up apart when we followed what we thought was Mr. Salkus’s van as it turned off the highway. Mr. Smeenge and I figured that Mr. Salkus knew a scenic route short cut. The van turned north and we followed it for a few miles. After a bout fifteen minutes we noticed that it wasn’t Mike’s van. The Harley Davidson decal in the rear window should have been a dead give away. Anyway, we met at the parking lot, shouldered our packs and started up the first of many hills towards our first night’s shelter. The hills are actually moraines left over from the Wisconsin glacier. These deposits snake their way through the park and are quite steep. But we only had a short hike to the shelter, but it was enough to act a s a prelude to the trail to come.
It was a short hike to first shelter, about a half mile. The shelters are roofed structures made of logs. Three sides are totally enclosed and the forth has a large 10 foot opening. The interior walls have wood benches circling the space where one can stretch out in your sleeping bag. The floor of this shelter was cement. It stood high on a moraine overlooking a bucolic farm valley to the west. In fact, we had ample sunset photo opportunities that evening. The boys slept in the shelter that night but all three leaders opted to sleep outside under the stars. We selected a spot about 30 feet from the shelter where the spur to the shelter split from the main trail. It was reasonably flat and covered with short grass.
I awoke early around 5:00 a.m. when I heard voices. I looked up and saw three young men cooking their breakfast in the fire pit next to the shelter. Now that I was awake I had to answer Mother Nature’s call. So I was up. I quietly chatted with them for a few minutes and found out that they had started out late the previous night from Plymouth, WI and hiked all night by moon light. They finished their breakfast and rolled out their sleeping bags under the eave on the back side of the shelter. So I left them to their slumbers.
I walked down the trail a few yards back o where we were taking pictures the night before. There was a wooden bench set up there because of the scenic overlook across the valley. I sat there and watched the sunrise behind me slowly fill in the shadows of the valley below. The top of the moraine behind me formed a long shadow line running north and south across the fields below. As the sun rose higher and higher, the line slowly inched its way back towards me. Through my small binoculars I could watch as the sun warmed the cows far across the valley. A bull bellowed loudly as he pushed his way through a throng of heifers in search of the target for his desire.
The predawn and early morning hours present ones ears with a cacophony of bird calls in the new spring as the males busily define their territory and chase off the competition while calling the girls into their realm. The light green of the newly budded leaves was still thin as they had yet to stretch out to their full sun catching breadth. So sighting the sources for the brash sometimes shrill calls was easier than it is during the full of summer when they hide within the tree’s canopy. I was particularly keen on watching the Blue Jays, whose voice is more of a raspy shriek than a trilling bird call. From my perch on the ridge I watched the small groups of Jays criss-cross the hill side running down to the valley. Jays are a very social animal and one could almost see the interplay between family members as the yelled back-and-forth between themselves, deciding when to fly off, which way to go and probably just plan yelling at each other. I was amazed on how much territory they covered. My view encompassed about a quarter of mile wide to about a half mile down into the valley where I could actually see the group fly off before losing site of them. They actually flew even further than that out of my sight.
I also spent some time memorizing the OA Obligation in preparation for the upcoming Spring Fellowship where I planned on completing my Brotherhood. So I had a busy morning even before the other arose.
After a quick breakfast, we once again shouldered our packs and hit the trail to the next shelter. The trail followed the moraine for a while, snaking along and bobbing up and down. Then it leveled out for brief stretch as we left that group of moraines behind. Then started it’s vertical pattern again as we picked up the next group of ridges. The second shelter was nestled deep in a bowl formed by a huge glacial ice cube as it slowly melted its way into a long forgotten memory. But the beauty of the camp site was its legacy. The shelter was in the center of the bowl on a slight bump. In fact, there was a secondary drop into a deeper depression right behind the shelter. This shelter was built the same way as the first except it had a dirt and pea gravel floor instead of cement.
We ate our lunch and had a quick debate on how to spend the afternoon. Several, myself included, wanted to continue along the trail about a half mile up where it split off into a series of loops that’s popular with day hikers and mountain bikers. So we left our packs at the shelter and continued along the trail. There were three different loops you can chose, all start and end at the same place but each trail looping further out than the previous. When we hit the first junction, a group of the older boys wanted to take the red trail, the shortest loop, while the rest wanted to continue on to look at a prominent bowl at the second longest loop. As the short cut group started down the turn off, Mr. Smeenge cajoled them about taking the “Pink” trail, insinuating that the red trail was for light weight sissies. The whispered amongst themselves a bit, then hustled back to catch up with us. The depression was rather uninspiring. It was almost too big to notice that you were in it, unlike our shelter site where the rim of the bowl surrounded you. Still it was a nice walk.
We hurried back to the shelter as the skies started to darken. The forecast predicted thunderstorms so we at diner early and then hung a tarp across the opening to serve as a door to keep out the rain. The wind really picked up and the flashes of lightning filled the sky. Several of us sat outside under the eave for while watching the show. There’s a huge difference between watching a thunderstorm from the comfort of your own home than there is from a small wooden hut in the middle of the wood. You get a better sense of the wonder and awe the forces of nature deserve when there’s no man-made city surrounding you. After a while, the wind started to drive the rain under the eave so we headed into the shelter. I listened to the weather radio for warnings, but most of the severe weather crossed to the north and to the south of us.
The next mourning we cooked up our final meal. We were cleaning up when we heard a large “crash” behind the shelter. I ran around the corner in time to see a tall elm tree make its final dive towards earth. It had rooted on the steep slope behind the shelter decades earlier, perhaps even as long ago as a hundred years. Its location doomed it. The heavy rain loosed the soil and its ancient roots could no longer hold the behemoth to the earth, so it toppled earthbound. Its smaller neighbors reached out with their boughs in a futile attempt to stave its fall. But their efforts were rewarded only with their own demise as the ancient tree toppled and crushed them in his path. Then there was silence.
Then we heard a soft but panicked mewing. It was so soft that we were not sure we even heard anything. But then one of the scouts ran down and found that several raccoon kits fell out of the tree’s hollow center when it crashed to a stop. There in the cold damp leaf litter were 3-4 little babies only a few weeks old. Their mother was no where to be seen. It was a part of the harsh reality of nature, but these kits were already doomed. Their mother would not return in time to rescue them. Some of the boys were bother by this. One asked if we should do something. But we explained that it was part of nature taking it’s course. The same events unfold everyday across the world. And the their loss would be some other animal’s gain.
So we packed up and hiked back to the cars. It started to rain again as we got about a half mile away from the parking lot. But it was a light misty drizzle, although a bit windy, so instead of heading directly to the lot, we hiked up to the top of the ridge to the observation tower. The weather got worse as we ascended the stairs. The wind whipped wildly as we rose above the protection of the tree tops, diving the mist into our faces. But we were rewarded at the top by a great view. The glacial features like the moraines where we had just hiked were clearly visible, even in the misty weather. I could discern the ridge were we spent our first night and were I watched the raucous Blue Jays chase each other the previous morning. I then followed the landmarks, the road we crossed, the field were we ate lunch, until I pinpointed the location of the second shelter about 4 miles off.
Then I turned and headed down and we returned home. This time we followed Mike Salkus the entire way home without losing him.
This was my first time at Camp Lowden and my first time really camping with Tommy (not counting Eagle Cave, which is not really camping). He was truly excited. Where Joey is indifferent to camping, Tom gets pumped up. He had been looking forward to this weekend for a long time. And we had a great time.
A few days before the outing, the Montero needed repairs and would be in the shop for a few days. Mr. Baird, Tommy’s den leader gave me a few names and numbers of other Webelos that planned on camping that weekend to see if I could double up for a ride. The Geislers had room and agreed to pick us up. It turned out well as they were very nice. It’s amazing how unexpected troubles can lead to unexpected benefits. Mr. Geisler is the type of person I could get along with very easily. Unfortunately, they planned on moving out of the area soon once they acquire some business property in Indiana to open a Culvers restaurant, too bad as I would have like to have camped with him more often as a Scout leader!
We set up camp quickly. Mr. Baird had arrived early and had the site set up. Our first stop after setting up camp was a visit to the trading post. I picked out a nice cedar walking stick, or hiking staff if you prefer. Tommy was in “hog heaven!” I didn’t get much sleep that night as the neighborhood Whippoorwill’s call kept repeating all night long. He timed his call such that you bean to anticipate his next call, as if one’s internal clock was suddenly reset to Whippoorwill time. Then, if he was off a bit, even just a tiny bit slow in his repertoire, an internal alarm went off in your head. “Where’s the call?” “What’s wrong?” Hour after hour this went on. I later found out that he is a mainstay at the camp. Other dads who have gone in the past asked about the Whippoorwill at the next pack meeting Even a few scout leaders, like Mr. Salkus, who had been there as Cub Scout dads years ago, asked how the Whippoorwill was doing.
Woods of Webelos is sort of a mini-camporee. You walk from area to area where the scouts are briefly instructed on a skill set, such as first aid or teamwork, and then participate in the activity as a group. A larger, older scout came up to me at the first aid station. He was a scout volunteering to help run the sessions. He say, “Hello, Mr. Vannerson.” My blank stare told him I had no clue who he was, so he introduced himself. It was Mikey, the young scout from troop 131 that often got into trouble, like the time he killed a sea gull on Manitou Island. Here he was actually volunteering to help out on staff because he was a den chief for a Webelos den attending the outing. Here’s a case story why scouting is not just for the good kids. It appears that he has turned himself around. How encouraging to see a success story like that.
The morning and afternoon events went well. The scout and the dads got along. One of Tommy’s favorite events was the cooking demonstration behind the dining hall. They made dutch oven cobbler and stew, and chocolate chip cookies in a cardboard box oven. Tommy’s favorite was the stew and we decided we should make it for the family when we got home. Tommy and Bobby sat atop a big sandstone outcropping behind the dining hall.
That evening, we cooked meal-in-a-foil hamburgers in the fire bowl. After clean up, the boys played hide-n-seek with scouts from two other packs that shared our site, while the dads rested next to the campfire. It was a cool spring evening with no mosquitoes as it was too soon for them to hatch. In other words… perfect. Tommy had a great laugh as one time he chose a hiding spot nestled beneath my folding camp lounge chair. I was sitting just behind a log used to define the fire bowl; still he was laying there in plain sight. But none of the boys could find him. He patiently laid there for about fifteen minutes while they ran around looking for him. The even stopped and stood about four feet away from us when they asked if we had seen him. I was impressed by his patience. He thought it was cool that they couldn’t see him, even though he was basically in the open.
The drive home was long, as the whippoorwill kept me up again! But it was a great weekend and I know Tom and I will have many more when he crosses over into Boy Scouts.
Finally, an OA fellowship! I have attended several Winter Banquets and a few chapter meetings. But I have not been active in the OA because Joey was not a member and I could not justify spending extra time away from the family for a scouting event if one of the kids were not involved. Besides Joey completing his ordeal, I had always planned on confirming my membership and completing the requirements for Brotherhood.
The lodge was changing the rules on when candidates could complete their ordeal. So this spring was the last opportunity for the 2002 candidates and the first opportunity for the new candidates. So we had 18 boys eligible. I was also able to convince several Ordeal Members to join me in completing Brotherhood. In the end, we had eleven ordeal candidates and four brotherhood candidates, myself Mr. Burgess, Ryan Burgess and Kevin Pfeiffer. Additionally, Jim Clingingsmith, Stan Mill and Mimi Murphy drove and attended. Stan and Mimi were not members and Jim was a member, and Eagle Scout, as a youth.
The weather report threatened rain all weekend. It rained on the way out but stopped before we got there so we able to set up camp relatively dry. Then it started to drizzle. I was worried about the conditions for the candidates sleeping out under the stars overnight. They even held the call-out ceremony in the dining hall. Fortunately, it stopped raining during the ceremony. After they led the candidates out of the dining hall, Jim offered to take us all out to dinner at the Italian restaurant down the road. Unfortunately, Jeff and I had to stay for a Brotherhood Candidate meeting. So Jim, Stan and Mimi went out for diner while Jeff and I stayed at camp, which is just as well because I would have stayed anyway in case Joey had a problem with his Asthma.
Later, after Jeff and I had returned to our campsite, the “3 Amigos” returned, but not empty-handed. They brought carry out pasta for Jeff and I. It was delicious. Mimi even brought two complete place settings, complete with linen napkins in her he floor of my tent was strewn with aromatic pot pourie!
The next morning, Jim and I woke up early to help out in the kitchen. Half the fun of these types of outings is chipping in and working together. Later, all of the adults from our troop chipped in on building a new wooden base to the washer and dryer at the swimming pool. That is except Mimi, who volunteered her pickup to help haul firewood. I was amazed at how poorly organized they were. None of the materials or tools for the project were planned out in advance. So we spent over an hour tracking down wood and tools. Jeff, Ryan, Kevin and I later left Jim and Stan on there own as wee had to attend a Brotherhood training session. The work continued after lunch but I volunteered to teach beading instead. I brought my OA sash I have been beading for almost three years as well as a small loom to teach how to bead the small pocket dangle.
Meanwhile, Stan, Jim and Mimi worked on splitting and stacking firewood for the camp’s opening and closing campfires. They worked the poor hydraulic log splitter so much that they actually broke it! After the afternoon sessions Iran into them as I left the dinning hall. Somewhere along the line, Jim and Stan started to tag me with the “Indian” name, “White Eagle.” Then they started calling Jeff “Silver Sparrow.” I later retaliated by anointing them “Noisy Crow” and Busy Chipmunk” respectively. During the afternoon, some of the OA candidates hooked up with them to stack the firewood. So then they tagged Joey with the name “Shiny Goldfish. Why? I don’t know. I later gave Mimi the name “Wood Gatherer” for her work on the firewood. I later looked up all of than names in Lenni Lenape language.
Table 1: OA Names for 2003 Spring Fellowship
Stan Mill |
Busy Chipmunk |
Wigchiki Anicus |
Jim Clingingsmith |
Noisy Crow |
Achgiguwen Ahas |
Willie Vannerson |
White Eagle |
Wapsu Woapalanne |
Jeff Burgess |
Silver Sparrow |
Wipunxit
Meechgalanne |
Mimi Murphy |
Wood Gatherer |
Natachtu |
Joey
Vannerson |
Shiny
Goldfish |
Wachejeu
Names |
I then arrived in camp and all of our candidates were cleaning up. They were still under the vow of silence, so they were communicating with gestures. But I could plainly see that they all were walking with a bit of a swagger. They plainly were proud of their performance and accomplishments so far, including Joey.
At the dinner meal, as tradition dictates, the ordeal candidates are allowed to enter the dinning hall first and fill their plates for their first real meal in 24 hours. Then they were called up for seconds first before the rest of us. Joey later told me that even Brad Mill rushed up for seconds of spaghetti… and he hates spaghetti! Then, shortly after diner, they called the Brotherhood candidates out and led us to the field in front of the dinning hall. They sat us down and instructed us to sit in silence and to meditate. About a half-hour later, they led the ordeal candidates to the same field and instructed them to do the same.
An hour later, they lined the brotherhood candidates up to enter the fire bowl. The Brotherhood ceremony would be first and the Ordeal ceremony second. The ceremony was well done and very moving. I had known nothing of it’s content prior to attending as all OA ceremonies are held in secrecy. It lasted an hour and the whole time I could not help but think of the Ordeal candidates sitting in the filed patiently waiting for their turn.
Finally, the ceremony was complete. I had finished what I had started 28 years earlier as a scout. It felt great. All off the members came down and shook our hands, welcoming us into the fold. It was very moving and I felt like I was now a more integral part of the scouting brotherhood, not just the OA.
Then they led the ordeal candidates into the fire bowl. There was Joey. I think that he felt a string sense of accomplishment. He was truly excited afterwards at the cracker barrel. All of those years of frustration had finally come to an end.
Additionally, we finally had a strong contingent from the troop, including new Brotherhood members. We were actually the troops first Brotherhood members. I think that all of my cajoling for he past three years has finally created some excitement and true interest in participating in the OA. We’ll see if it carries over into the fall and the monthly chapter meetings.
We went to Napowan two seasons ago and both Joey and I hated it. I felt like it was the worst summer camp experience in my life. As a consequence, Joey didn’t want anything to do with Napowan this summer when the troop selected to return there and forgo our reservation at Tesomas. I was particularly crushed, as we were fortunate to have a reservation at what is likely the best site at Tesomas. It’s just past the fire bowl and part of the site over looks Crystal Lake. It’s a five-minute walk to the office, dinning hall, trading post and showers. The older boys were signing up for the Blue Goose High Adventure Base.
The Blue Goose is an expanded program over their normal high adventure treks they run every summer. The Northwest Suburban Council applied for and received national sanctioning as an official High Adventure Base. The boys selected a mixed trek where they would spend one day on the C.O.P.E course, one day cycling on the Sparta-Elroy trail, one day kayaking near the Dells and two days rock climbing at Devils Lake State Park. I finally convinced Joey to sign up, as the adventure base was not really at Napowan.
But two weeks before the trek, we discovered that no adult leaders from the troop were accompanying the boys. I was not planning on attending as I was still unemployed and could not rationally justify the $250 fee. I called the Council and discovered that an adult can go with for a $65 food fee, but would not participate in the activities. We were discussing it at the kitchen table when Joey suddenly announced that he didn’t want to go, even if it meant forfeiting $50 of his fee. So neither of us went to camp this year.
Honestly, I was feeling “home sick” for camp, even though it was Napowan. I spoke with Dan afterwards and discovered that their rank advancement program, C.A.P., was sub par. And the new dining hall had not been built yet so meals were still under the big, dusty tent. I’m glad I wasn’t there.
But I made my presence felt in other ways. Last summer at Tesomas I played a great prank on Bob Pawloski. He and Pete Loeblich went to town for supplies and the woman at the counter made a pass at Bob. So I got the camp staff to help leave phone messages in the troop mail box for him from “Wanda from Wonder Lake.” So the week before camp I called the Tesomas camp director, Drew Nelson. He cooperated by sending a Tesomas post card to Bob at Napowan. Here’s what the card said:
“I saw on the camp website that you would be up this week. But you never came in for ice so I visited the camp. They said you went to Napowan instead. I miss you so much. Love, Wanda from Wonder Lake. XXX OOO”
I asked Dan if the card made it in time. His reply was, “You sent it?” Apparently, Bob suspected everyone but me, as I wasn’t up there. All the leaders were in a fog on how it was done as done as it had a Wausau postmark on it. So far, only Dan, Stan Mill and Jim Clingingsmith know I was the culprit. Perhaps next year I’ll repeat it!
