Scouting: Full Moon Over Warsaw

Modern Tales and Legends from Owasippe, America's Premier Scout Camp

I'm looking for your favorite two-trackin' stories. Follow the link below for more information.

Introduction (top)

There's the Owasippe Legend, the story of Chief Owasippe waiting patiently on a hill overlooking a bend in the White River for his two sons to return from their journey. Then there are the Legends of Owasippe, the tale tales of it's staff and their many adventurous pranks. I think the two go hand-in-hand. It's hard to imagine that you could assemble a crew of devoted hard working, creative people to run a scout camp without expecting some playful shenanigans. So you come to expect a good camp story from them, some, you could retell a troop campfire, others you definitely could not.

I have just returned from an OSA (Owasippe Staff Association) banquet. After a fifteen-year plus absence, I have renewed my membership and have returned to the fold. Having my oldest son join scouting has rekindled the scouting flame in my heart. It had never burned out, only smoldered, like quietly glowing embers in a fire ring. I walked into the banquet hall with some trepidation, it has been over a decade since I last saw some of these folks. But there was no reason for my concerns. I was met and treated as if we all had just spoken to each other last week. The flames in a scouter's heart will always burn bright and those in my heart are burning strong once again.

One of the OSA's strengths is that its members do not live solely in the past. There's a blend of the old along with what's important today and eyes forward towards the future. I think that's why the OSA has lasted, and indeed, flourished for over twenty years since it's founding in 1978. But there are plenty of stories of the past. And whenever more than one staff member gets together, you can be sure there will be more than a few stories exchanged.

This is a collection of some of those stories, at least those I know of (or can remember), and those that others have been will to confess… err… I mean, "share." The title, "Full Moon over Warsaw," is taken from an infamous prank that took place while I was at Owasippe, and serves as the lead story. Unfortunately for me, I did not partake in the execution of this prank. I'm only storyteller in this one!

I envision this document as a living entity, to serve as a repository of many of the untold legends of Owasippe. So if you have a story to tell, pass it on to me and I will add it to the list. But whisper… remember that "The trees have ears!"

Looking For ... (top)

There are some stories I've heard second hand, some that are legends and some that are just pure fiction.  I need help in sorting some of these out.  Below is a list of subjects that I'd like to hear the real scoop.  It's my own personal list, but send me an email if you have your own subjects to add.  And, by all means, send me an email if you have details or a story to tell!

Here's a list of stories that aren't necessarily pranks, but I'd love to hear more about them too.

Full Moon over Warsaw (top)

I took the opportunity at the 2000 OSA banquet to ask a few folks for details on a classic prank that took place either in 1972 or 1973. As luck would have it, several of the principals were there that evening. One says he actually wrote the entire down on paper for an OSA Vibrations newsletter article, so perhaps my second-hand telling can be replaced by a more detailed and factual version.

One fine morning, the Reservation Director, Ed Black, made his way to Food Prep for breakfast. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. It was a kybo (a.k.a. "out house') sitting in the middle of the Ad Center parade grounds. What was odd about this sighting was that it wasn't there the evening before!  But this was no ordinary kybo. It was "Warsaw" from the vacant camp Dan Beard on Owasippe Lake. Every kybo at Beard had a name of a city, sort of a landmark to help folks find their way. Warsaw was the name of the kybo on the beachfront at Dan Beard.

During staff week, the week prior to when the scouts come up, several seasoned veterans decided that Warsaw really should be moved to Ad Center. Now I'm sure the conversation among the secret cabal was a bit more colorful than that. But until we get a more factual account, we'll just have to be satisfied by our imaginations. But I do know that they developed a code, a phrase by which all involved would know that the prank was on. The code phrase was, "The full moon rises over Warsaw. KSI593 to base... clear!"

Finally, one night, the leader of secret cabal decided the time was right. So the call went out to the different camps were fellow plotters worked. The secret phrase was necessary those days because there were no phones in the camps back then. The camps were in contact with each other and Ad Center via radio. So you couldn't say, "Tonight's the night we're moving the kybo."  So everyone knew that they were supposed to meet at the leader's cabin that night for the prank. There were over a dozen plotters in all, including someone with access top one of the stake trucks.

The group carefully dismantled the kybo on the beach. There was no one around so they didn't have to be terribly quiet. The walls and the roof sections were bolted together so it was fairly easy to dismantle it. Then they were stacked high on the flatbed of the truck and slowly drove their way to the horse corral. The truck stayed there until an advance scout could check Ad Center to see if the coast was clear. Normally everyone would be fast asleep, but the Ad Center radioman could be awake in the Information Booth right in front of the parade grounds. But he was fast asleep. The operation was a "Go!" They quietly drove up and started to re-assemble the sections in the parade grounds.

The parade grounds are a pie shaped plot of sand and weeds between Russell Road and Silver Creek Road on two sides, and a sweeping semi-circle driveway stretching between them. I had heard that the original intent was to have the plot planted with grass. But grass doesn't grow too easily in the loose, sandy soil. This is about the same time they carved Camp Robert Crown out of the woods with a bulldozer. My first image of Crown is of the continual water sprinklers spraying the sand around the staff lodge in a futile attempt to grow grass there. Everyone knew it wouldn't work because the camp's yell was "Mojave Mojave!," after the infamous dessert.

So grass never grew on the parade grounds. Instead there was a carpet of Prickly Pear cactus and Cinq Foil, although some have mistaken Cinq Foil for grass, but not the type you normally grow on your lawn! It has five narrow serrated leaves that resemble pot. Rumor has it that one staff member tried drying and smoking it once. He ended up with a headache that lasted for several days.

So this is where the team chose to re-assemble the kybo. The busily went to work. One of the collaborators had learned a trick in Viet Nam where you poke a pinhole in a piece of cardboard circle to replace the lens of your flashlight. This tiny beam of light was used to shine through the empty holes in the sections to help line the holes up for the bolts. One member of the team stood about 6' 6" tall. (if you are at all familiar with the staff in the seventies it should be too hard to guess who this was.) So he was chosen to hold the two roof sections together at the ridge from the inside and run the bolts through to hold them together.

Finally, it was all done. Everyone started to make their way back to the truck when they heard a loud "Bang!" It sounded like a shotgun going off. "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" What the heck was that?  Back inside the kybo, the tall member was busy nailing the urinal, a large galvanized metal funnel, back into place! But nobody woke up and all of the collaborators escaped unnoticed.

Word traveled around the reservation pretty fast the next day but the guilty parties kept mum. And now you know the true story, well at least part of it.  Anyone with a better, more accurate version is welcome to send it to me as a replacement.

War Canoes! (top)

I have two stories regarding the large, fiberglass war canoes that used to ply the placid waters of Lake Owasippe.  The first, War Canoes - Part I, is an accounting of my first introduction to staff pranks on my very first day at camp. The second, War Canoes - Part II, is a first hand accounting of one that I was able to participate in!.  Both of these links take you different pages that I have already added to this site.

Christmas In July at Camp Stuart 1977 (top)

Another Christmas in July at camp, and this time I was back a Stuart, the camp where I first celebrated the event when I was eleven. We set up a Christmas tree up on our dinning hall stage (a couple of floorboards on top of two dinning tables). It was decorated with lights and homemade ornaments. At Friday’s dinner with the scouts, John Grout dressed up as Santa to pass out candy for the kids. Our program started out with traditional seasonal carols and climaxed with Santa’s appearance.

We didn't have a real Santa's beard so someone improvised using cotton balls and glue. They glued the cotton directly on John's chin. It was a less than ideal solution, but John was a trooper and went along willingly, after all, it was for the kids.

Things were going well with the program until it was time for Santa to appear. John jumped up on the stage and appeared to be especially jolly that night, even for John's standards. But he appeared a bit agitated. Then he started yelling at the kids and was tossing to candy out a little to vigorously. "You want some candy kids???," he yelled out as he started whipping the candy back out among the kids. I think it was Pat who realized that things were not as they should be and put the pieces to the puzzle together in his head. It dawned on him that the fumes from the glue they used to attach the beard had gone to John's head, so to speak. So Pat quickly jumped up and helped usher John off the stage, where the beard was quickly removed.

Luckily, John was removed before any serious harm was done or even before anyone but the most astute observer even noticed that something was wrong. But I'm sure many Chicago Boy Scouts still have the image (or nightmare) of John Grout as Santa each and every holiday season.

Two-Trackin'! (top)

For those of you who have worked on staff, no further explanation is necessary.   For everyone else, two tracks are back roads that weave between the trees.   They are nothing more than two tracks from the tires that have worn a permanent path in the sand.  These roads were popular for short cuts and driving them was referred to as "two-trackin'."  Some of these roads existed because someone decided to make a short cut.  Others were actual remnants from old roads that were never upgraded with gravel or asphalt. Some of the more well know two-tracks had names, like "Garbage Road," a short cut out of camp Dan Beard, or "Rural Route 5," the unknown back-door way into Family Camp that everybody knew about. 

Do you have any good two-tracking' stories of information?  Or do you know how Garbage Road or Rural Route 5 got their names?  What other two-tracks do you remember? Send them to me and I'll add them to this page.  Here's one for a start.  I'm a little fuzzy on the details so I'd welcome additions or corrections from anyone.

Eagle's Nest Two-Trackin'

My first year on staff was in 1973 when I was a CIT. I actually had two memorable two-trackin' experiences that summer.  This first occurred during staff week.  That's the time that the staff in the section camps prepared the camp to open for the scout.  The CITs were all camping out at Camp West that week to receive instructions from more experienced staff members on how to run dinning hall programs, or how to teach nature or scoutcraft. Larry Putz was the CIT Director that year.  Larry was assigned an army surplus Jeep from the reservation motor pool.  That Jeep became the target of a late night raid from an adventurous band of CITs. They pushed the Jeep down the road a bit so they wouldn't wake Larry up when they started the motor.  But they couldn't get it started! So that adventure ended up with only a verbal scolding from Larry the morning when he found his Jeep about 100 feet or so from his cabin.

Later that summer, I did get to participate in a true two-trackin' adventure on one of those Jeeps (I think the reservation had three of them running at the time).  Larry had just dropped me off at Wolverine South as I transferred after two weeks at Sauger Lake.   I wasn't feeling so well, as a result of the Christmas in July festivities the previous night.  But I was hanging around when one of my new fellow staff members pulled up in one of the Jeeps.  I don't remember how he came about getting the Jeep, but I do recall that he wasn't "assigned" the vehicle.  I was at the right place at the right time and was invited to jump in for a ride. So off we went, racing up and down the sandy two-tracks behind the Wolverines. Somewhere on the way back from Eagles Nest, we ran out of gas and ended up walking back into camp.

I remember sitting in the staff lounge Sunday morning when the Pack-'N'-Paddle director (was it Chuck Nagel that year?) came storming in demanding to know where his Jeep was at.   Word had leaked out somehow that it was at our camp, the trees have ears you know.   It was inocently suggested that he might try looking down by the Eagles Nest. He ended up pushing the Jeep back with one of the stake trucks

As I mentioned, I'm a bit fuzzy on some of the details, so please let me know if you have any corrections.  Thanks.