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My Rendezvous as a Boy Scout

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I sit up with a moan and rub the sleep from my eyes. It’s finally Saturday! And then: Oh, right, camping. Great way to spend the weekend. I crawl out of bed, get some cereal and start packing, even though I know it’s not good to start packing an hour before you leave for a campout, but I didn’t think I’d be going.

When we were finally ready to leave, my dad, little brother Patrick and I pile our stuff in the Jeep and drive off. As we get there, I walk with Dad to check-in. Wait. Where’s Patrick? I stalk back to the Jeep. “Patrick, get out here!” I yell.

When we are checked in, I run over to the Troop Three Forty-Seven campsite, where Joey is trying (and failing) to get the campfire lit. I see they’ve put up a tent for me and Casey. I hang around the fire pit until the Senior Patrol Leader; ,Chris, tells us what we are doing. It turns out that I am on lunch duty with David, Jacob, and Joey. Well, there’s nothing else to do except fire marshal and that’s boring.

There isn’t too much for me to do, so Mr. Balmforth tells me that after all the soups are in the pots, I should pour water into them, and then clean out the cans so they can be recycled.
After a lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup, the Cub Scouts go off to do their activities, and we wait around until another Cub Scout Patrol arrives.

I get on the two-ropes-tied-to-a-log-and-a-tree swing to wait for them. I talk with Brendan, the Quartermaster, and he says he might be able to work on some Tenderfoot requirements with me, as he is already a Star Scout. But then the Cub Scouts get there, and Brendan goes to teach them verbally, while Joey and I go to the fire pit to get it ready for them.

Their main goal is to light a fire, and use it to boil an eighth of a can of water. The task is simple, but there is a time limit, and Brendan talked to them for a longer time than necessary, so they couldn’t get it done.

We waited around for about an hour and a half, talking, eating some leftovers, until it was time for dinner.

I walked back to Dad’s car, which had my backpack inside (I had forgotten it earlier), and that had my spare clothes, my mess kit, and my book. By the time we get to dinner, the line was very long, so I went to our table and read until it was shorter. As we waited to get to the food, I stepped out of line for a second, get some hot chocolate, and step back to find a Cub Scout in my spot. “Kid, you’re in my spot,” I told him. “I was here.” “Yeah, well you got out of line. I’m here now,” he retorted.

After a few minutes of this, I got my spot back, and get some food. Goulash. Hurrayh, My favorite. I finish late because I’m a slow eater, and was last in line.

I hustle back in time to leave for the campfire bowl. We hike to the arena, sit down, and do some skits. I am in one where we are (pretending to) play baseball. The pitcher ‘pitches’ until there’s a full count. Then the pitcher ‘pitches’ one last time, and the people behind it take down the tarp, and hurl a bucket of water at me. We see some more skits, than head back to camp for Cracker Barrel.

We make popcorn (the kind you put over the fire). Then after exchanging some video game trivia, and debating which games are better, we decide to hit the hay. I read for a while, than turn over and go to sleep.

I wake up at about six fifty, and hear the noises of people packing up. Casey wakes up around seven fifteen, and starts packing his stuff. He starts to take down the tent. I get out of my sleeping bag at ten to eight (unusual, Krebs is very fond of getting everyone up early. Last month he was kicking at the side of my tent) and start packing.

Once I’ve put everything in my backpack, he shows me an even easier way to pack up the tent. He throws it in the trailer, and then we start taking the dining fly, cooking stuff, and other Troop gear to the trailer. After that is done (It takes a surprisingly long time for twenty Boy Scouts to break camp), we circle up and do thorns, buds, and roses (likes, dislikes, looking forward to about that campout).

We assign cars; throw personal gear into them, than head to the St. Pat’s PLC. There, Brendan assigns Troop gear for cleaning. I have a tent and a Dutch oven. We then head home (finally, you have no idea how stressful Sunday mornings can be on campouts), and our weekend is over.




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