Funmurphys: the Blog

Northern Tier

This summer my son and I went to the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota and spent a week on a Boy Scout high adventure at Northern Tier. We'd been planning this trip for two years and spent months preparing with twice a week hikes. We started out just hiking, then we added packs with weights, then we kept increasing the weight, and then we started portaging a canoe too. How I miss those days now!

With less than two weeks to go I broke two toes on a Sunday morning as I was carrying my gear down the stairs for summer camp. I discussed with the doctor my plans - summer camp, and then canoeing and portaging 11 days after I broke them. The doctor considered and said that broken toes were a nuisance and that it was a matter of how much pain I could stand. So I went, but I took a baggie full of Ibuprofen.

We rented two 15 passenger vans, stuffed them with gear and 22 people, and drove for two days in full scout uniform to get there. The road trip was boring, although when we stopped for gas and comfort we attracted attention in our uniforms. Just getting 22 people through a bathroom break was a logistical challenge - even when the adults used the women's bathroom as well. On the way back we solved that problem in a cornfield in Iowa - all 22 of us lined up and peed in near unison.

We arrived at Charles L Sommers Wilderness Base in the afternoon. Because of US Forest Service rules limiting the number of people who can travel together on a permit, we split into 3 groups. Our crew of eight was busy from then on -- we had to plan our route, shake down our gear, pack our food and gear in six packs - three for the food and cookware, and three Duluth packs for our gear. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they asked us to make out our wills.

After dinner we watched a film about the Boundary Waters, and then the Base director told us what to expect, not with the exact words of Cliff Hanson, a longtime former Base Director, but similar:

"You're going to be wet, you're going to be cold, you're going to have more bugs biting on you than you ever thought existed... and about the third night out, you're going to wish your mother was along to tuck you in between clean sheets... and that goes for you advisors. too!"

WE ARE READY TO EMBARK ON OUR GREAT ADVENTURE

The next morning we got up early, finished our preparations, picked out our canoes, and as always spent some time waiting around. We portaged down to the shore of Moose Lake, got in line to leave, and then waited our turn to put in.

As we waited to go, I don't know what all was going through the minds of the boys, but I was worried about two things - getting good pictures, and did I bring enough Ibuprofen?

As it turned out, those were the wrong things to worry about.

MOOSE LAKE AND THE WHOLE BOUNDARY WATERS AWAIT

The weather wasn't auspicious, but when it's time to leave, you get in the canoe and shove off. And then our guide remembered he'd forgotten something important, so we sat around in the canoes not far from shore waiting for him to get back. While we waited, the clouds got thicker, the wind got stronger, our mood got darker.

KYLE AT OUR FIRST CAMPSITE

As it happened in the scramble to get into the canoes, I, the heaviest of the adults in our crew, got in the stern of the canoe, and the lightest scout got in the bow. The strong crosswind kept turning the canoe right under my butt. It was hard work just keep the bow pointed somewhere near where we wanted to go. At lunch we changed positions to get a better weight distribution and life for me got a lot better. Eventually we got to a spot on Sucker Lake where it turns 90 degrees and the wind blowing longways down this part of the lake was creating significant waves. Our interpreter said we should take the open campsite at this spot and get going early the next morning when there would be less wind. We agreed.

Our campsite was pretty neat on top of a hill, but cramped as the top wasn't too large. Once we got the gear out the canoes, the canoes up on dry ground, the tents pitched, the packs stowed under the tarp, and just generally settled in, the interpreter said we would take a two rod portage (portages are measured in rods, which are 16.5 feet or the length of a canoe) right next to our campsite the following morning. Huh? We got off the lake because we didn't want to paddle a long stretch into the wind with significant waves. But we weren't going that way tomorrow? We later figured he just wanted to stop for the day.

Kyle and I brought collapsable chairs at the recommendation of our group leader, Mike, who had gone on a family trek in the boundary waters the year before. The interpreter had advised not taking them during the gear shakedown but I figured that as long as I bought them and Mike recommended it, I'd take them. As it turned out, our interpreter put his butt in one of them every chance he got and we wished we had taken along something else (significant music plays) he told us to leave behind.

We discovered a cloud of mosquitos at the campsite - as it turned out there was a cloud of mosquitos pretty much everywhere on land. The good news was that they didn't bite (much) except at dusk, which at that time of year and latitude turned into bedtime. Especially if you didn’t want all your blood sucked out of you by the swarm.

VIEW AT LUNCH

Once camp was made I had to use the grumper, which is what we called the toilet on the trip (you make your grumpy face on it). Our interpreter showed me a leaf that was better than toilet paper, which came in "twinkies". He claimed that when wet, the somewhat hairy underside was just like a wet wipe. Yeah, right, I thought to myself. So off I went, twinkie in hand, down the trail to the grumper. It began to rain. It would rain lightly off and on the rest of the day. When I arrived at the grumper, a gray tube of plastic with a notional seat kind of molded on, I pulled down my pants. Apparently mosquitos find the flash of white attractive, and swarmed over my, well, you get the idea. As the week went on, I learned the trick was to get the pants down and the butt planted on the grumper as quickly as possible. Anyway, when I was done I was confronted with a choice - thin biodegradable TP in the rain, or leaves of some hopefully non-allergenic ground cover that were touted as wet-wipe like. I went with the leaves. They were better than biodegradable TP in the rain while sitting on a plastic tube in the middle of the wilderness, but you wouldn't confuse it with a wet wipe in the dry climate controlled comfort of your own bathroom.

After a dinner of chili, we sumped the wastewater from washing the dishes near the grumper, and then we broke out the toothbrushes. The crew that brushes together, spits into the sump together. Hygiene - the tie that binds (some of) us together. Ah, the joys of backwoods camping and the closeness it brings.

The next morning I had to use the grumper again. Early the next morning. So I had to take the dishes off the “bear canoe” -- all the pots and pans on top of a canoe over the food packs -- to get to a twinkie. There wasn’t a tree big enough at the camp site to hoist the food packs up, so we set a trap for the bears instead. Our interpreter introduced us to this method, and told us if we heard the pots clanging in the night, we should rush out of the tents making as much noise as possible to scare the bear away. I figured with my earplugs I wouldn’t hear a thing so the boys would get the thrill of scaring a bear. As it turned out, whenever we made a bear canoe I had to take it down in the morning to get to a twinkie, afraid the whole time I would be set upon by screaming boys if I made too much noise.

Northern Tier requires that their crews use the “wet boot method”. Entering and leaving a canoe was to be done in calf deep water so that we didn’t bang the Kevlar, i.e. lightweight, canoes against the rocks. So before the trip one of the most common discussions was what kind of footwear to use for the wet boot. I went with Jungle Boots because I could buy a relatively inexpensive pair. I’m glad I did because the rigid sole really helped my toes. My son, however, went with a water shoe after we tried just about everything four different outdoor stores had to offer, and we saw it on sale at Kohl's. After being submerged several times a day, the boots finally dried out a week after we were back home. My boots held up, but most of the other people who went with the jungle boots had the interior turn into a brown paste that pulled out with their socks. Yummy.

To go along with the wet boot method we used the two changes of clothes method. You had a complete set of wet clothes, and then you had a complete set of dry, or camp clothes, including footwear. I had two pairs of fast drying nylon pants. As it turned out, they dried so fast I wore the wet pants all day every day except one. The pants only had waist size, so they were too long, and to control the length I tightened the cords around the cuffs. No problem, until it came time to get in the canoe using foot-butt-foot method of getting in the canoe. The legs would fill up with water, and then when I got in the canoe the tight cuffs didn’t let the water out the bottom, which meant that when I swung my leg in with my butt on the seat all the water ran down into my cotton underwear. That’s better than coffee at waking you up first thing in the morning. Second and third thing, too.

RAINBOW ROCK

Our second day on the water we had a whole series of portages to get to Knife Lake. As it turned out, we had lunch in Canada and the boys were far more delighted by the idea that they "peed on Canada" than they "ate in Canada". When in the woods, do as the bears do.

We hardly saw anyone on the trip, except on the portages which were comparatively crowded. The two days we portaged, my son and I had the interpreter in our canoe. So he carried his pack and the canoe, and we carried a pack each and the paddles. I'm guessing 60 lbs per pack, but it's a guess. The other issue with the portages is that while there typically wasn't a lot of elevation change, there were plenty of trail hazards in the form of puddles, mud, roots and rocks. Me and my toes were excited when we checked into our first motel on the way back and I could walk on nothing except flat, hazard free carpet. I had brought trekking poles borrowed from another scout leader thanks to the suggestion of a third scout leader and I put them to good use on the portage trails.

We were able to see a few sights this day like Dorothy Molder's cabin, or at least a pile of shingles on the Isle of Pines where it once stood, and nearby rainbow rock whose picture doesn't do it justice. It sits just off shore looking nothing like anything else around, and asks you the question, "what am I doing here?" No doubt some of us were wondering the exact same thing.

By now it had started to rain and we began to paddle eastward on the lake towards even more exciting destinations. After a couple of hours of a steady downpour, most of the crew had had enough and so we pulled over and camped at an empty site. In the American part of the Boundary Waters, you can only camp at designated sites, which are indicated on the map with a red dot and are determined by the presence of a fire grate. The sites are first come only served, so on crowded lakes there can be some competition to get one. As it turned out, one of our crews would paddle for miles looking for an empty site this day; we were fortunate enough to find an empty one without difficulty.

We made camp in the rain and the boys disappeared into their two tents. Scout leaders are made of stern stuff (or perhaps thickheaded stuff), so we stayed outside to work on dinner. Not only was it raining, it had gotten cold too. As in coldest winter of my life was summer in Northern Minnesota cold. And it was at this point we were cursing our interpreter for telling us during the gear shakedown (cue significant music again) not to bring our tarp as his would be sufficient, and at ourselves for believing him. He did rig up his tarp, the emergency blanket, and a poncho into a shelter a couple of feet off the ground. I and another leader didn't want to crouch down so we stayed out in the rain in our raingear. We sliced up a bag of potatoes and had cottage fries for an appetizer while waiting for our pasta to boil. After a hot a filling dinner, the leaders disappeared into their tent and left the boys outside to clean up. I was so incredibly tired that day it was all I could do to retain consciousness until 8PM while talking with one of my tent mates.

I started every morning with my personal grooming time, i.e. running a comb through my hair, before putting my wet gear back on, swallowing a couple of ibuprofens, and then heading to the grumper. This morning was different because our interpreter wanted to stay in camp to dry his stuff out - his pack liner had a hole in it and with the steady rain the day before all of his stuff was soaked. So we decided that we would do a day trip this day - no gear in the canoes, down to Eddy Falls and back, and no interpreter either. This was the best day of the trip.

TWO SMALL ISLANDS ARE THE GATEWAY TO THUNDER POINT

We started out with light hears and lighter canoes. Today I was happy because we had the oldest scout in the canoe with my son and I so we weren't troubled by the wind or the long day of paddling. Perhaps we consulted the map more frequently without our interpreter, but we soon saw the two small islands that were our first waypoint on the way to Thunder Point. Did I mention that it wasn't raining? When we eventually passed the two islands, the lake widened way out with a North arm and a South Arm, and the wind really picked up, so the trip got pretty exciting. As we drew near to the foot of Thunder Point, we could see another crew coming around from the opposite direction and sure enough, it was one of ours.

I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD OR WHAT A VIEW

After catching up, the other crew's interpreter was nervous about our being caught congregating. So we ate lunch by the canoes, and the other crew hiked to the top and ate. I added a couple of ibuprofen to my meal in preparation for the coming ordeal. Neither crew could find the trail to the top that our interpreter had talked about, so we both had to bushwack up and back down. The slope was very steep, covered in vegetation, and the footing was often loose stone. Over halfway up, the first leader called back down that it wasn't a good idea for me to come all the way up -- the footing was nothing but loose stone. I called back that the whole trip wasn't a good idea but since I'd gotten this far I wasn't going to turn around now. So I made it all the way up. We caught our breaths (some faster than others), enjoyed the view, and ate of the blueberries that grew rampant all over the top. We also looked for a path down without success.

EDDY FALLS THROUGH THE TREES

Let me say the descent was worse than the ascent and leave it at that. Then it was back into our canoes and down the South Arm of Knife Lake on our way to Eddy Falls. This whole area was hard hit by a big blowdown in 1999 and wildfires subsequently but it was very noticeable on this part of the trip. This was probably our longest stretch of uninterrupted paddling but the weather was perfect for it. Fortunately the other crew described how to find Eddy falls or I'm not sure we would have without our interpreter. It was something like you come to a bay, then there's a rock outcropping, then a stream, and then an area to put the canoes. We had a hard time finding the stream, but after a brief discussion we decided we were in the right spot. And the really nice thing was we were right!

So then it was a brief hike back into the woods along the stream, and you could hear the falls before you could see them. They are really pretty, with a big pool in front. My toes were bothering me and the footing wasn't good, so I didn't take full advantage of the falls.

THE EDDY FALLS MASSAGE

Eddy Falls is a collection of small falls that adds up to one nice sized one. What everybody likes to do after a hard day of canoeing is to to stand or sit in the falls and let them provide a cool and refreshing massage. We spent a nice long time here having fun and getting massages, but all good things must come to an end so we hiked the short distance back to our canoes to return to our campsite. I have to say that when we got to the canoes my toes were hurting so badly that I felt like crying. A couple of more ibuprofen were downed and I offered up prayer for my deliverance.

When we had arrived, the wind was light and in our face. Now that we were ready to depart, the wind was strong and still in our face. I joked that I always knew the which way to go because we were always paddling into the wind.

As always there are delays when trying to get boys back into canoes, and this time was no different. Another Northern Tier crew came down from the falls and their interpreter asked us about our interpreter. We thought ours was going to be in trouble, but he just wanted to make sure we knew where we were going, and he advised us to hug the shoreline to try to mitigate the wind. As it turned out, I was in the lead canoe and we quickly determined that hugging the shoreline didn't do a thing to mitigate the wind. So we went with the theory that a straight line would be the shortest distance. We paddled all the way back to camp with only one stop - I have to say that the upside of taking all that ibuprofen was that while my toes would still hurt my arms never got sore.

BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE, OUR KNIFE LAKE CAMPSITE

We were glad to get back to camp and not have to unload the canoes, set up camp, or cook dinner as our interpreter had that well in hand when we got back. This was our favorite day. Oh yeah, it didn't rain either. By now we were pretty serious about foot care since we had spent several days with wet feet. Today at last we could change into our dry gear and stay dry, let our feet air out, and apply alcohol and Gold Bond powder to them. I also applied the Gold Bond to another area that had spent too much time wet with happy results. Despite my recommendation, neither of the other adult leaders followed my regimen.

We could hang a bear bag at this campsite, and it came in handy because of a giant rabbit (or hare as they like to call them up north) that would circle our camp repeatedly and a chipmunk (another crew called them mini-bears because they were always after the food). At first I thought how nice when the chipmunk kept me company on the grumper, but when I was finishing up my business and he disappeared down a hole close to the grumper it became clear he had ulterior motives. I couldn't help myself, I had to look down the grumper and sure enough there he was looking back up at me. I quickly left him in peace as I didn't want to know anymore than that - I didn't even want to know that much.

MORNING ON KNIFE LAKE

The next morning was beautiful - a little light fog that quickly burned off. My toes were back to their normal throb and I could realistically think I would survive this trip. I had a new found appreciation for the comforts of civilization and the geniuses who invented things like shelter and heating - the person who invented the roof should have a holiday named after them. I understood in a way never before just why there are so few people in the wilderness and the heart of civilization is so crowded.

BIRCH LAKE FROM OUR CAMPSITE

My toes provided the excuse a non-overachieving crew needed. Instead of making a big loop via some long portages we simply retraced our steps for the most part. So today it was back down Knife Like, over the series of portages and onto Birch Lake. We talked about going a long distance this day so we could coast in the following, but our interpreter reminded us once off Birch we would be back on lakes that allowed motors. So we opted to camp on Birch so that we wouldn't have hear all the noise. We were a mile away and behind forest from the nearest lake with motors, but we could still hear them in the silence of the Boundary Waters.

During the day we had a crazed chipmonk go after our food unlike any crazed chipmonk I'd ever seen before. There was no discouraging this guy and when we once again made our bear canoe we had to first put the food in a canoe to keep him out of it. We started out making a cake but wound up turning the frosting into pudding and skipping the cake part altogether. The boys went fishing in the canoes and the wind was still blowing strong enought they spent much more time paddling than fishing. We had a really nice campfire and in short just had a great time being boys.

The weather kept getting nicer. By the last day, I was actually warm and I got enough sun to give me a nice combination sun-wind burn. Instead of hoping to get through this as quickly as possible and just survive, I found myself enjoying the trip. Excercise, sunshine, good eats, plenty of scenery -- only female companionship was lacking and unlike the first couple of days I actually had the energy to enjoy it. We were feeling frisky enough we didn't take the shortcut portage to Sucker lake but went the long way around and saw the American-Canadian border actually marked.

But in too short a time we were back at base camp, our canoes hauled up and put away, our packs emptied and returned, a smile on our lips and a spring in our step. OK, and we showered. In hot water. Did I mention that whoever invented the hot shower should have an entire week named after them? Pure genius.

The next day we began the long drive back home and after another night on the road we got to sleep in our own beds. And they lived happily ever after. Did I mention that the people who invented the box spring and mattress, sheets and blankets should be more famous than Paris Hilton?

Death Is The Best Insect Repellent

Our troop recommends the use of Permanone applied to clothing when hiking or camping to keep the bugs (ticks especially) away. Permanone uses Permethrin.

It works.

I went with 40% DEET on arms and legs for my night out at the OA campout and got 2 tick bites under my clothes for my trouble.

I read with interest that the DOD is having field uniforms made with Permethrin to keep the bugs (mainly mosquitos) away. Maybe it will come to a scout uniform near you one day.

OA Weekend

If you live in the St. Louis area, you can thank me for the rain over the weekend. Yep, I went camping. The OA Fall Reunion was held at S-F Scout ranch and I was there. Friday night I had to undergo me pre-ordeal since I was unable to complete it due to broken toes at summer camp. I thought there would be maybe about 5 of us, but it was more like 80. Apparently a bunch of troops went out of council for their summer camp and were completing their pre-ordeals that night as well.

At 3 AM most of us bugged out when it sprinkled; the decision looked much better in retropspect when it poured at 4AM. It poured on us Saturday morning and Saturday evening, so we were grateful New Horizons moved up the candidate ceremonies to the afternoon so they could take place without rain. But that meant we were done by 6PM so the boys all voted to pack up in the rain and leave Saturday night instead of Sunday morning. The vote wouldn't have been different if we were an adult led troop.

Summer Camp Dislocation

I'm feeling a little bit dislocated after my week at Scout Camp, so I'm trying to catch up on what happened and readjust to real life. At scout camp, you sleep in canvas tents that were new during the civil war, you cook over an open flame, and airconditioning is opening the tent flaps. Of course, you bring the latest high tech LED flashlights, hiking boots, and clothing if you're smart.

Thursday we had a couple of bad storms (I'm from the midwest, so when I say a bad storm, I mean wind that whips 100 year old oaks around like reeds, thunder, lightning, and heavy downpours) roll through. Upon my return to camp, I was informed that "we had no electricity", which made me wonder because I didn't know we had any all week, but what was meant was that the trading post was without electricity, and they weren't selling any ice. Our parent sent to Farmington, the nearest city of any size (no, I don't count Knob Lick) came back telling tales of flooding, trees down, and power out there as well. What do you know, our old style encampment fared better than modern civilization, at least in the sense we had less to lose.

One of the great joys is the near total loss of contact with the outside world, since I didn't get cell reception in camp and had to walk a mile and then find the one spot I could get reception in the camporee field. So when new parents came to stay, we always greeted their news with a sort of open-mouthed astonishment - from Israel went to war with Lebanon to the Cardinals have a five game wining streak going. I'm still trying to catch up, although it took no time at all to understand the point of airconditioning. Relearning this blog thing might take a while.

I Have Returned

I have returned from my week at Scout Camp, tired and footsore. I chose eating before showering upon my return.

Missouri the Beautiful

I love Missouri. There, I said it, and I'm not ashamed. The countryside is beautiful, the people are friendly and helpful, and our government is, OK, two out of three ain't bad. I know a lot of people must think of Missouri as dull flat country with nothing but farms, but that's Northern Illinois, not Missouri. Missouri is actually quite varied, and while the scenery isn't dramatic (no deserts or mountains), it's much more inviting and bursting with life.

I know what you're thinking, what the heck brought this on? Our Boy Scout Troop floated 16 miles on the glorious Jack's Fork river this past weekend. The National Park Service campground at Alley Spring's was a rare treat for our troop because it had a large fire pit, plenty of picnic tables, and best of all, flush toilets. Our canoe outfitter was Windy's, and we were more than satisfied with them. The area is really very pretty although a bit hard to get to. I'd put up pictures, but the batteries were dead in the digital camera and I didn't bring the flim camera.

Boy Scout Leader Training

I'm now a trained Boy Scout Leader. A weekend ago I spent 9 and a half hours in classroom instruction on Saturday; this past weekend I was in outdoor training from 5:30PM Friday until 1:00PM Sunday. The classroom training wasn't that much fun, since it was straight through with only a couple of bathroom breaks - even lunch was a working one as each patrol had to plan for the upcoming camping trip. The weekend outdoor training, however, was a blast, as we got to be Boy Scouts for a weekend and learn by doing. I especially enjoyed the knots, hitches, and lashings training. My district, New Horizons, had 10 patrols of 6-7 trainees (I was in the Picnic Rats), and several other districts in the St. Louis Council were also represented.

I've learned through experience the secret to a good camping experience consists of three things - good earplugs so the noises in the night (mainly snorring) don't keep you awake, a good mattress/cot to get a good night's sleep on, and a good grubmaster so that you eat and drink well. And good weather always helps, although all you can do about it is to prepare for bad weather.

One of the things that struck me during training is what great shape Beaumont Scout Reservation (where the training took place) is in despite decades of year round use by the Boy Scouts. During the summer months the use is nearly non-stop as it is the site of summer camps for cub scouts and boy scouts, and it is used by packs, troops, and crews throughout the year. You won't see litter, but you will find plenty of animal life - and not just of the misquito, tick, and chigger variety. The BSA really does a good job of teaching its members how to be responsible and leave no trace.

Another part of Boy Scouts I enjoy is the adults. It's a cross section in one sense - the adults come from all walks of life, male and female, rich and poor, white collar and blue collar - but in another way its not as its a great group of people, always ready to pitch in, to help out, and to have fun and above all dedicated to the youth.

Relief of Mafeking

If you are wondering why it got so cold in the midwest this past weekend, it was because once again my son's Boy Scout troop was going camping. The weather has been very mild this winter except when we have a troop outing -- and that's been the story since we've joined. We've missed two outings - one was beautiful, and the other was lousy weather-wise. But all the others - much colder than the weather either before or after.

While the most fun was at night, and the stellar display was far beyond what I'm used to seeing in my backyard at night, the scenery was better during the day, as this picture showing the council ring at Camp Sunnen, which the boys had to hike up to in the dark, and it's view overlooking the lake demonstrates:

So this past weekend is the troop's "premier" outing -- and the last before the "new scouts" join. Our extraveganza was The Relief of Mafeking, where Lord Baden-Powell, founder of the Boy Scouts held out for 217 days against a much larger Boer force in 1899/1900 during the second Boer War and which brought him the fame that allowed him to make Boy Scouting a success. Each patrol was briefed on their mission, smuggled through enemy lines covered under tarps in a trailer pulled by a real WWII jeep, dropped off at the foot of a ridge where they had to find a trail (OK, the embedded reporters showed them the trialhead) and then they were provided a series of challanging tasks by operatives along the way until after a couple of miles over hill and dale they made it into Mafeking where we all had a nice hot bowl of Chilli at midnight.

Did I mention this was done at night under only starshine? In temperatures around 5 deg F? With snow on the ground? And you know what, it was a lot of fun, even though it was the 2 and 1/2 time I'd been over the course, knew what to expect, and was working a lot harder than most outings. Saturday morning, the dads moved/gathered wood to the spots we needed it, Saturday afternoon the dads and older scouts ("staff") hiked the course discussing what we wanted to do and who was going to do it, and Saturday night the 4 scout patrols maneuvered all way to the end, given nothing but written orders to guide them.

Another nice touch was the heated cabins we stayed in, and the couple (Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Sifrig) who cooked all the meals we ate. We were worried that the snoring might collapse the building, but the noise wasn't bad even without earplugsm, or at least that what the one dad who wasn't wearing them said.

Rome Wasn't Built Without Deadlines

There is no truth that the unofficial Boy Scout Motto is "There is no time like the last minute." It is, however, the unofficial Motto of my Boy Scout Troop. And that was before I even joined.

King of Cold

Whenever there's a cold snap around St. Louis, blame me. It means I went camping with the Boy Scouts, and this past weekend was no different. New Horizons had a Webelos camporee, which meant a lot of men and boys (and a few women and girls) slept a couple of nights in a nicely shaded field and shot guns on Saturday. Shotguns, rifles, and blackpowder guns. Nobody got hurt, although I did hear some poor kid throw up for a long time in the middle of the night.

My son was grubmaster, which meant he was responsible for providing the food for his patrol. When we went shopping, he was concerned that we bought enough, because the quickest way to get on the bad side of your patrol mates is for them to go hungry on a campout. We bought for nine, but only six showed up, so there was plenty of food to go around. And come home. So his stint as grubmaster was a success.

Not Good

Is it just me, or has the national scout jamboree not been going well this year? Leaders electrocuted, scouts dropping like flies from the heat while waiting for President Bush. It's not like the problems are the fault of poor planning. Don't put up metal framed tents under power lines. And while I do feel sorry for all those scouts from cool climates who aren't used to the heat and humidity -- if you can't stand the heat, don't sit out in a shadeless field in the hottest part of the day for hours. Be prepared encompasses know your limitations.

Scout Camp

We're having a heatwave here (we made the CBS evening news!). So naturally I spent 3 days without air conditioning in scout camp last week - Thursday through Saturday. I had a good time and I sleep better every camping trip I go on. Normally I try not to sleep on my back because I tend to snore in that position but given the Dad Symphony around me I rolled over onto my back at 2:30 AM Thursday and slept there the rest of the trip. Nobody complained in the morning, and I slept like a middle aged fat man -- I only woke up to go to the bathroom.

Summer camp at S-F is like stepping back in time, since the equipment is the original from the mid '60s and the tents have a feel of such antiquity you feel like you're at a civil war encampment. But on a hot summer night, a tent that becomes only a roof is pretty handy, although by the end all the boys were sleeping out under the stars:

I know a lot of people think Missouri is just another boring midwestern state without majestic scenery, but I find the scenery here to be wonderful in an elegant yet understated way. The centerpiece of the S-F ranch is Nims lake (at least for the campers) which not only is beautiful, but fun:

Each patrol has it's own area in the overall troop campsite, and the dining table with fly above is the nerve center of the operation. So here's a picture of the Eagle's nerve center, with the Old Goat's (the adult patrol) area in the background, marked by the presence of the troop trailer, source of many good things. My son was happy to see me when I got there, but I of course wanted to capture the moment on film. Or CCD, as the case may be.

The campsites at Camp Sakima are arrayed in a horseshoe fashion around a cove of Nims lake; the two sides of the mouth of the cove are connected by a long pontoon bridge (very long under the hot Missouri sun). Campsite Dilling is located on a hill at the end of the bridge.

Thursday night was the tapped out ceremony for the Order of the Arrow, the real secret society that runs the world. Or at least the scouting world. We made our way to the parade grounds were the camp director gave a good talk about what the OA is all about -- cheerful service (It's just one of the reinforcements of good behavior the Scouts provides). And it was better for the fact that he wasn't chosen the first time he was eligible, so he talked about the importance of looking within at your motivations, and looking without at your actions. Then we were led by guides back along the shore or lake Nims where we lined up, shoulder to shoulder (a phrase often used to pack us in at camp) for the ceremony. It's a very cool ceremony, involving lots of fire, several Indians, and the choosing of members for the Order of the Arrow. I thought it poor form to take pictures of the ceremony itself as I was a participant, so sadly I have no really cool pictures. I do have a group shot though, just before the boys and parents separated and we made our separate ways to the start of the ceremony.

It really was a good time.

Alls Well That Ends Well

The weather this year has had an unusual pattern - nice weather on the weekend, lousy weather during the week. Normally it's the other way around, although last weekend the weather wasn't nice. I ought to know, I was out in it camping with the scouts again. I may have to keep going until we get a nice weekend. It could have been worse - the rain came after the tents were up on Friday night and we are safe and snug in our, err, sleeping bags. It seems to be a tradition that we pitch our tents in the dark, which leads to surprises in the morning -- our worse, in the night.

Here the new scouts are getting instruction from the Senior Patrol Leader the night we arrived:

Read on for more fun filled photos and exciting adventures...

Those home improvement shows have designers always going on about bringing the outdoors in. Well, look at a picture of the scouts kitchen and tell me if we succeeded or not:

What's cooking? Pancakes? I think those are more like fried dough balls, but good!

We were at Pere Marquette state park, and this is the Boy Scouts, so we hiked. We came across a tree recently blown over right on the trail (yes, we did manage to get through):

Along the way every now and then you could glimpse the river and its plain through the trees:

Eventually we made our way to the twin shelter, which was a nice place to rest and admire the view:

Although the site itself was gorgeous:

But that wasn't our ultimate destination, just a waystop along the way. So we pressed on, upward, onward, excelsior! At last we made it to McAdam's Peak and the view from there is quite nice:

This park is famous for the Bald Eagles you can see in winter, but we weren't there in the winter. So it was back down to the visitor's center via the ravine trail (I'm glad we went down it, not up it):

That night we had a fire - and there are few things nicer than a fire on a cold spring night (especially when you don't have to help gather the wood):

The weekend was exceptionally windy, which made the cold much worse. Several of the tents were blown over, including mine. Here we are Sunday morning making ready to leave. That's my tent on it's side - I tipped it over to dry the underside which was still wet from the night before:

The drive alongside the rivers home was pretty, and the bridge at Alton is a sight worth seeing all on its own. But the best part was the long hot shower at journey's end.

Crossover Campout

My son crossed over from Webelos to Boyscouts not long ago. For the boys, we had the flaming neckerchief, the flaming arrows, and the smoking bridge. For the adults, I stepped down as cubmaster after 3 fun filled years. Then we all went with the troop and camped at Beaumont. This was before the weather got so nice here, although it was thankfully better than predicted. After we arrived at the camp site, the boys were assigned their tents; the dad's had to pitch their own. My wife, who was alone at home as our daughter was spending the night with friends, wasn't thrilled when I called and asked her to bring the tent poles that I left behind. And then to bed, with extra blankets, handwarmers stuffed in the sleeping bag, and night cap firmly in place. I slept good. Next morning was beautiful if cold:

It was chilly morning, but we were warm snug in our warm clothes. The guy without the coat - he didn't spend the night. The rest of us pictured did. The adult patrol, the Old Goats, made breakfast for the new scouts -- pancakes and sausage. We had enough pancakes to serve them the old fashioned way, flipped over the cooks shoulder with a fifteen second rule. That is, the first fifteen seconds they are on the ground doesn't count.

We were at one of the camporee sites at Beaumont, an open field along a creek nestled in the rolling hills of the area. It may not be breathtaking, but it is beautiful:

After the new boys were finished with their scoutcraft for the day -- forming patrols, naming them and devising their troop yell, earning their totin chit and fireman chit -- it was time to run around and play:

This was also the troop feast weekend, so while the new scouts were playing, the older scouts were cooking their feasts. The Old Goat patrol sampled the various patrol's meals:

That night it got cold, real cold out in the field where we were, so a fire was mighty nice.

The next morning, it was time to pack everything up, police the campsite, an go home to warm showers and razors. I may not be a real old Goat, but I sure smelled like one after two nights of camping. So too ends this account, and I leave you with Mr. Morgan waving goodbye:

Campout!

This weekend was our cub scout pack campout. We were back at Castlewood State Park and had a great time. Castlewood is very popular with hikers and bikers (no, not the Hell's Angels type but people who own $6,000 mountain bikes). We camp near the Meramec river and you feel like you're in the wilderness despite being 10 minutes from home. I'm a little sore from our help on building a trail and a little tired after sleeping (or rather, mostly not sleeping) al fresco.

Our pack has a great campout organizer, so as Cubmaster I mainly get to wander around and have fun. When our afternoon activities went faster than planned, especially the Raingutter Regatta, I made the decision to ignore the planned times and move the different dens to the different activities based on the times activities were actually taking. I'd rather get done sooner and let the kids play before the hike than to have the kids bored waiting for the next activity to start on time. I was informed that not all the parents were happy because they followed the clock instead of the boy and so missed out on seeing their son do some particular activity.

Cub Scout events are loosely organized chaos, and flexibility is key. At the pack meeting that night, I had a nine page plan; due to circumstances the start time was changed; some elements of the plan were dropped or moved -- sometimes I drop something just as it's about to start based upon the mood of the pack (myself included). This is entirely normal, and for every meeting I have a page of jokes to cover dead time that may pop up. I never know in advance when I'll use them, but it's a rare meeting when I don't use them all.

We had a ball doing skits around the campfire. We got started a little late and the Tigers were all asleep and didn't get to do their skits. This year I got to be involved in three of the skits. My daughter and I did one together, and the two older Webelos dens asked me to be in one of theirs, Yaputcha, and Ugliest Man in the World -- the cub master's job is to be the butt of the jokes. I had another page of jokes to tell while the dens were coming forward and setting up and I used them all up. It was nice to just sit (boy were my dogs barking after being on my feet all day) around the fire afterward and chat with friends.

Next morning we had crispy cremes for breakfast, and frozen OJ. McDonalds (thanks!) donates the OJ, and even after asking them nicely for thawed OJ the day before, we still got frozen. Sometimes I have a hard time recognizing the ladies without their makup; I've learned to wear a ball cap to both keep warm and hide my bed hair. And then we have the hardest but most important task: organizing the boys to police the campsite. Some of the boys fall right in; others require constant supervision to keep them on task. As Scouts, we do our best to leave no trace, even in an area that sees constant use like where we camped. Then we stress leaving it better than we found it, which means yes, you need to pick up the beer bottle caps.

School Night For Scouting

We had 19 boys sign up last night (yeah!) and about 5-6 prospects at our School Night For Scouting. The prospects were all people who came late and so didn't hear me run through my spiel on what we do and what's expected of both the boys and the parents; I'm glad that after hearing me ramble on for 20 minutes (possibly more) nobody who did hear me backed out. I may not be a good public speaker, but at least I'm not repellant. I even managed to talk one lady who came in late while we were wrapping up the paperwork into joining. Her son wanted to, but she wasn't sure. After a few minutes of me talking while she just kind of looked at her paper work, the pack's committee chair asked if she was going to join tonight since he had to go turn all the forms and money in. At first she wasn't, but after I went over our calender and all the neat stuff we do, she was sold. It seemed like a lot of the 2nd graders were joining because their friends who were already scouts had a good time. I guess hard work and dogged determination do pay off.

Webelos Camp

My son and I had a great time at Webelos camp. For him, it wasn't just the fun activities. An important part has to do with fostering independence and taking responsiblity. Real challange does far more than all the fake positive self esteem acitivities ever accomplish. And Mrs. Morgan, who bless her was there all week, was very good about letting the boys know that and experience that. As for me, well, I enjoy being with my family -- and getting away from it all (and doing new things).

When I picked him up on Friday, he said he'd learned a lot of important lessons at camp. One was that if you were with somebody long enough, they got annoying. Another was that he shouldn't be picky about eating. He used to be very good about trying new foods, but a couple of years ago that stopped and his culinary horizon had shrunk to only a few things he would eat. But at camp he was forced to choose between eating whatever was served or going hungry. He discovered that a lot of things he didn't think he would like he actually did. So Friday night he insisted that we eat somewhere he hadn't been before so that he could try something completely new. My wife and I hope this keeps up.

Change Is Good

We had our pack's Blue and Gold banquet this past Saturday night, and afterwards people kept telling me it was our best one yet. And not because of my silly jokes or anything else I did except for one simple thing: I didn't say no to change (and I even insisted on some of it). In the past, we have held a raffle throughout the night so that every boy won a prize. That's eighty something donated prizes, so most of them were pretty minor and it takes forever. Last year I asked our committee to end the raffle (something all the den leaders were in agreement with). Somehow it got put back in. This year, the lady in charge volunteered pretty much just so that she could end the raffle. But that wasn't the end of her changes - we also flipped the order of the meeting. In the past, we had the pack meeting, then we ate, and then we had our entertainment. The whole thing took 3 hours. This year, we had the entertainment first -- a juggling clown magician -- then we ate, and then we had the pack meeting. We were done in two hours (and there was much rejoicing). I admit I was nervous at first about following a professional, but the reality was that the kids were happy after the pro, and even happier to have a full belly before putting up with me.

I suppose the thing I've done best as Cub Master is to let go and let our volunteers do what they want to do. I'm a coordinator, not in control. It works wonders for getting parent participation and it works wonders for the overall program - the creativity and the dedication has been phenomenal. It also makes my job easy -- most people like to implement their own ideas and work harder on them.

Scouting Report

I enjoy cub scouts. The weekend before last was our pinewood derby, and both the kids and I had a blast. As cub master, I do my best empersonation of the guys who used to hype the sunday races -- it seems like Don Garlitz was always racing his funny car -- I put on my best announcer voice and draw out the boy's names, highlight when brothers race, and just try to have fun with it all. I have found that by saying yes to pretty much any idea or offer of help, we have great parent participation and people just pitch in to get things done.

This weekend my son's den went for a winter hike at Beaumont. So we hiked four miles in the snow, over hill and dale. Fortunately, the temperature was in the upper 30's, the snow was powdery and not too slippery, and while we did get off the trail, we did find it again. When we realized we were off the trail, I told people, we weren't lost because we were all together -- you're only lost if you get separated. But the lead dad, in his words, "smelled a trail" straight up a hill, so we climbed straight up the hillside and found the trail we had set out on. I count it a success: nobody was lost, and the boys' main complaint was we wouldn't let them fall behind or wander too far off the trail. Somehow, the boys don't connect the two.

Aft Gang Agley

It took me awhile to recover from the weekend, but I have returned to blogging. I was hit with a double whammy. First, we had our Cub Pack family campout at Castlewood State Park. We've had outstanding weather all year, but on this particular Saturday, we had rain. The forecasters told us Friday night that it would rain overnight, with scattered showers in the morning and no rain after noon. Well, they were wrong. The rain didn't start until 9:15 AM. I know the exact time because I was in the middle of a field trying to get my tent up before the rain started when it started. Fortunately, we had numerous awnings to keep the rain off; unfortunately, we quickly churned the ground underneath them into slippery yet clinging mud.

We went ahead with our raingutter regatta and nature talk from the park ranger (who was outstanding); but we were forced to cancel the tug of war. We went ahead with the hike to the bluffs overlooking the river, but a lot of den activities couldn't be carried out as planned. We canceled the pack meeting, so no Indian was summoned out of the night to light our bonfire and award bobcat badges and pin, but we did light the bonfire ourselves and enjoys skits, jokes, and even a story told by yours truly.

Many of the families who had planned on camping slept in their own beds; my son and I stayed until the second time he threw up. He didn't want to leave, but as he kept on hurling even when there wasn't anything left to hurl, I think I made the right choice. And that's the great thing about kids - not too many of them noticed or cared about the weather; it was only we parents who were worried about clean and dry clothes or being cold and miserable. The kids had fun running around in the rain, skipping stones in the river, playing soccer or volleyball, and cooking over open flames.

It was also my birthday, so while I enjoyed the medal proclaiming that I was "officially" older than dirt, and the nice trophy from Den 6, and being sung happy birthday twice, it also means that I got a few toys, which needless to say I've been playing with ever since. Not only have I been too busy to blog, I've been too busy to even download the new 1.10 Diablo II patch. Now that's busy.

A Flaming Good Time

Last night my Cub Scout pack graduated our second year webelos. For the Arrow of Light award, they had to pass the burning neckerchief test. I have to say, the boys loved the flaming neckerchief and it was easy to do. Mix equal parts water and acetone, build a simple stand to hold and present the neckerchief, add scouting candle to ignite and stand back. We also shot flaming arrows for the finale - sparklers attached to the nose of the arrow also put on a great display. Every year the boys claim the cubs got to shoot them last year; every year the Cub Master explains no, the Boy Scouts shot the arrows. For the webelos crossing over to boyscouts, I removed their webelos slide and neckerchief, then they had to cross a bridge over smoking dry ice, give the cub scout salute to me, give the boy scout salute to their new scout master who put the boy scout neckerchief and slide on them, and viola, now they're Boy Scouts.

As part of the Arrow of Light award, the parents present their son with a real arrow keepsake they've painted with all the badges, arrow points, and pins they've earned. I had a hard time finding actual wooden arrows, as most stores only carry carbon or aluminum ones. But the people at Midwest Archery Outfitters made the arrows up special, with blue and gold fletching, and were the nicest people to deal with. So for all your archery needs, I have to heartily endorse Midwest Archery Outfitters.

Pinewood Derby

Saturday is my pack's Pinewood Derby. So I've spent the week getting ready for it. We bought a new track this year, and a new timing system to go with it, and new race software too. When the track was delivered by UPS to the head of the derby, one of the boxes was damaged, and bolts were leaking out. So we started the assymbly of the new track with a little fear in the belly that perhaps something important was lost and we would be using the old track again. That wouldn't be too bad, but we'd already thanked the boys for their fundraising on behalf of the new track and told them because of their efforts we would be getting a new one. As it turned out, only some bolts were missing. The real problem were the instructions. For both the track, timer, and software, the manuals were sorely lacking. The biggest problem was that they just started in with step one without providing any kind of overview. We worked Saturday and Sunday afternoons, Monday and Tuesday night to get it all put together and tested. Wednesday we had our final help session, and tonight my son and I finished up the car. Whew. I just finished the final touches on the planning for the pack meeting to go with it, and tomorrow night its off to school for the weigh in and taking the track apart and moving it to school to set up again so that bright and early Saturday morning we can race at the school and not in sombody's basement.

Our race committee chair recommended we purchase a plastic track (SuperTrack?) with it's timer (Super Timer) and software. The pack committee prefered an aluminum track due to durability concerns, so we wound up buying an aluminum track (Best Track) but stayed with the same timer and software. The companies that sell this stuff are mom and pop operations (I think a couple of buddies is more like it) and when you call their support lines you get the feeling you are talking to somebody at home watching the football game. And believe me, we had to call -- a lot. We'd look at the manual, read the website, look at the pictures, discuss, and then call. Sometimes somebody would suggest jumping to making the call right away, but our manly pride wouldn't let us. The most confusing was the timer because the two of us trying to install it had no idea that it provided for a remote control start, and so couldn't figure out what the solenoid was doing in the system. The help we got from the timer guy was pretty much "You should have bought my track." In hindsight, I think he was right, but the advice came too late and didn't do us any good. It was a painful process, mainly due to ego bruises, but we did manage to put it together and it is pretty neat. Now we have a track that the boys can start the races and the track announces the winner and lights up the winning lane.

Every year our car (yes, I'll admit that it is a joint project) gets better looking. I think our first one ran better than the second, but it was a shock when we showed up for the impound the night before and saw what the other kids (and parent) built - mainly in the paint job. This year somebody told us about a web site (Maximum Velocity) that gave us an idea of what to build, and other parents shared their finishing techniques. So I think the car looks pretty good and I hope will run pretty good too. I'll just be glad when it's over so I can have some free time again, so that I can get cracking on getting the annex all squared away. Then it will be time for Blue and Gold, and hey, two more years after that I won't be Cubmaster anymore. Somehow, I don't remember my parents being this busy when I was a kid.

Pow Wow

Saturday was the Cub Scout Pow Wow here in St. Louis - which by the way is the second largest Boy Scout Council by number and first by percentage of eligible boys in the program. Pow Wow is a day long event that provides Cub Scout adult leader training. So I spent Saturday being entertained, informed, encouraged, and otherwise edified by fellow scout leaders. This was my second year attending and I do have to recommend it to any leaders who can attend -- I will be able to improve the program of my pack with what I learned.

The typical attendee at the even is a middle aged white man with a bit of a paunch. So I fit right in. But by no means were we the only attendees. There were plenty of middle aged white women with a bit of a paunch. Okay, my fellow attendees came in all shapes, sizes, races, genders, and weight classes, the only thing we shared was our desire to do our best for the boys in our packs and dens. There were a couple of people who deviated quite a bit from the norm - I noticed a gal at the opening ceremony who was out of uniform - the big bleached blonde hair was fine, but the open shirt over the lace body suit top was not regulation. Eye catching, but definitely not regulation. Still, she had nothing on the guy who had a Mohawk haircut -- shaved on the sides and extra-long on the top and back -- with a tattoo of a brain on each side of his head. Something tells me he has no trouble getting the boys attention, but I don't think it's for me.

Cub Scout Campout

This has been a busy weekend in the Murphy household. Kyle’s cub scout pack (of which I’m the cubmaster) had a camp out. It was a lot of work before hand, and a lot of work during. This is the first all pack camp out our pack has done that anyone can remember, and there were a lot of obstacles along the way, from having to change locations less than a month before hand, down to a traffic accident delaying a lot of the attendees. Being cubmaster has been taking up a lot of my time, and my wife isn’t too happy. She says that I put more time in than Kyle gets out. And that’s true. But there are other things we do, like Kyle’s soccer team, that I don’t put any time in (other than going to the games, which this year I enjoy). Does it all balance out? I think it does, but all of these volunteer organizations help make up the community, which is one of those things were the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I’m not one of those doom and gloomers who thinks that people don’t appreciate community like they once did; I think they still do, it may just be expressed in different ways, and with more sub-communities the building blocks have shrunk, but the edifice is larger. And really, would I rather be watching some TV crime show, when I can argue with eight people what side dishes we should serve with dinner?