What's your best Scouting memory?

[Oldscout448]

What with all the gloom. doom, and turmoil in this section of late,  I thought it might be no bad thing to remember and recount  a few of our high points on the scouting trail.

I'll start.      

Troop meeting night,  I was near the end of my 12 month term as SPL and feeling pretty burned out.   Between the troop, the Explorer Post, the IWLA shooting team, OA ceremonies, church,school, and falling in love I was a very busy young man.    While driving to the meeting in my car, I mused on the sheer irony of it.  As a new tenderfoot I had looked up at the older scouts of the senior patrol with a great deal of awe.  With their long sashes covered with merit badges, and a row of actual medals on their shirts  they seemed the height  of coolness.     Always  in control, knowing what to do, what to say,  they could put you in your place with just a sharp word or even just a glance.   How I longed to be like them.   Well . six  plus years  later and now I was the  scout in charge of the whole shebang and it was killing me.   As soon as I solved one problem ,two more seemed to pop up out of nowhere.   All of the scouts I had bridged in with  had dropped out, as well as the ones from the following year, so there was no one who could help much.    I would have gladly traded a merit badge or two  for a campout where I could actually enjoy myself again.  At least I was half an hour early for this meeting, plenty of time to get everything ready.

As I was  almost done setting things up, the brand new SM. walked in   " By the way,  the cubmaster called me an hour ago, we have four Webelos joining the troop tonight.  I told their parents we would do the Oath-candle ceremony  first thing"    There went my meeting plan.  The one I had spent  an hour on last night instead of   the term paper that was due in a week.     I wanted to throw something. WHY ? Why am I  still doing this?  

Deep breath.   Get your patrol leaders.   " Alex, John, Chip,Tim!     the plan just changed.  We are investing four Webees in five minutes.   We need the candle board,  16 candles. matches, the old scout handbook from the storeroom, a table,  the troop flag, and ...

But as the lights went out, and the candles were lighted one by one and the young  quavering voices of the Webelos followed my lead and for the first time pledged themselves to Live by the Oath and Law,  I saw in their eyes the same respect and awe that must have been in mine when I still wore cubscout blue, a third of my life ago.    

I knew in that moment, I was looking at the answer. THAT is why I was still doing this.   For them.

Oldscout of troop 448

PS   Seven years later. I was out of scouting, married with a kid on the way and my phone rang,  it was one of the Webelos, informing me that the four of them were having a joint Eagle Court of Honor,  and they wanted me to give them the Eagle Charge.    I don't get misty eyed often but...

 

 

 

Edited June 16, 2018 by Oldscout448

[DuctTape]

Thanks OldScout. I think I got a piece of dirt in my eyes reading that.

 

[ItsBrian]

4 hours ago, Oldscout448 said:

PS   Seven years later. I was out of scouting, married with a kid on the way and my phone rang,  it was one of the Webelos, informing me that the four of them were having a joint Eagle Court of Honor,  and they wanted me to give them the Eagle Charge.    I don't get misty eyed often but...

 

 

 

Great story. Just wondering, how long ago was 7 years later?

[shortridge]

I can’t pick just one. A few that bubble up to the top of my memory, though:

>> After I had been elected into the OA but before my Ordeal, I was pestering my SM about what the Ordeal involved, after having just read the Bronc Burnett novel (Eagle Scout). I clearly had all the key elements down. He sat me down out of earshot and basically told me I needed to go into it with an open mind. Five years later, he was my Vigil sponsor.

>> My first campout, to which I arrived on Saturday after having been cleared of chicken pox the afternoon prior. It was rainy and windy and miserable and we were boiling hot dogs in the pot one at a time because we thought that’s how you did it ... but man, that spaghetti at dinner was the best meal I have ever had.

>> My first year on camp staff as a CIT. Getting to see behind the scenes of my camp, teaching my first merit badge lesson, and hanging out with the staffers I had revered as a camper made me want to do that for the rest of my life. Even hauling outriggers and folding canvas was a blast while wearing the staff shirt. No job will ever compare.

[WonderBoy]

I have so many great memories from my time as a Scout... summer camps, high adventures, my Troop's annual Thanksgiving weekend pilgrimage to Civil War battlefields, NJLT @ Philmont, and a trip to the National Jamboree. But probably my best memories were afterwards, when I saw the tangible benefits of Scouting paying off.

So there I was on day three of our land survival course while I attended the Navy's Naval Aircrew Candidate School. There were four Marines with our class of 35+ sailors, running around the woods, making shelters, catching & eating snake (and snake soup!), and all the good stuff at which a Scout would feel right at home. So apparently I must have come off as something of a "city slicker" for some, unknown to me, reason. Anyway, I'm relaxing under a improvised shelter (they supplied us with parachutes, for cripes sake!) when one of the Marines turns to me and says, "Taylor, this is all just a big campout for you, isn't it?" While I took that as high praise coming from a Fleet Marine, I realized that Scouting had provided a much more tangible and concrete skill set than I had ever expected to have.

[Cambridgeskip]

Ah the memories. Pretty difficult to choose! A few that spring to mind,

my Queens Scout parade, we got to taught to march by The Irish Guards who were on ceremonial duties at Windsor Castle at the time. The regimental sergeant major accused me of marching like a thunder bird. I was truly dreadful at it! His comments made me laugh and find it even harder.

Being elected scouts scout of the year when I was about 15. I was getting a hard time at school at the time. Basically the working class kid at a very middle class school where I struggled to fit in. My scout troop mostly had the same background as me. Being acknowledged and appreciated that way at the time meant a lot.

Getting lost on a night hike one summer. We decided to stop and wait for first light to find where we were. We all fell asleep and woke up getting soaked. Turns out we’d stumbled onto a golf course where they turned the sprinklers on at first light!

One of the most touching moments from my cub leader days... the school most of my cubs went to had an annual day where each pupil could bring one of their parents in for lunch. One of them found that neither of her parents could make it due to work commitments. She asked me to come in for lunch instead. I’ve never been so flattered! She went all the way through, is now 19 and an assistant cub leader and I’m proud to count among my friends.

[Oldscout448]

3 hours ago, ItsBrian said:

Great story. Just wondering, how long ago was 7 years later?

33 years

[The Latin Scot]

Most of my memories of Scouting as a youth are largely negative; I was bullied mercilously by the other boys, but since they were part of the same congregation that paid for me to be in Scouting in the first place, looking for another troop was not an option, so I had to get by on nothing but patience and forgiveness. But there was one camp-out that stands out to me, for many, many reasons.

First of all, it was the most grueling, miserable hike of my life. Now, understand, I was tiny for my age; at 13 I was 4'11 and not even 100 lbs. And I never did any kind of sports, so I was not accustomed to any strenuous physical effort, yet to complete my camping merit badge I had to go on the troop's planned 4 mile hike up a trecherous trail in the mountains near Yosemite. My leaders were, to say the least, incompetent - we had had no training hikes, no warnings of what the trail was like, not preparation whatsoever - just "stuff your pack and we'll go hiking!" 

The trail, we found, was nothing but steep slopes and switchbacks all the way up. And I had to carry a 20 lbs load on one of those gosh-awful metal-framed backpacks. And of course, it was night, and raining. The trail was so rough, the rain was so heavy, that we all marched up in total silence and misery as we trudged up a slick muddy path to a destination we could hardly hope to find. I, being so small, could hardly have made half the way up even in mild weather and no pack - but under the conditions, it was just too much. After about 2 hours, I slipped in the mud and couldn't go any further. I was done. Embarrassingly, the "leaders" (if they could ever really have been called that) had to take turns either carrying me or dragging helping me along as I doggedly tried to get there on my own feet. The others took my pack and went on ahead. I and the leaders who had to help me ended up being an hour behind the majority of the troop.

When we finally reached the campsite, it was past midnight, pouring rain, and ice cold. But to my surprise, my tent had been set up, and my things quite lovingly placed inside, where they had clearly been dried by the fire and made ready for me to quickly change and get to sleep. Everybody else had gone to bed, so I naturally assumed the other leaders had taken the time to get things ready for me out of pity.

The next morning when I awoke, the rain had stopped, the sun was not quite risen, and only one other Scout was up. I was (still am) always the first person up on camp-outs, so seeing somebody else awake was surprising.. As it so happened, it was the boy who consistently gave me the most grief, from the time we were 8 and lasting well into high school. He had a rough life, and a rougher attitude, and he was one of those kids that had to either laugh at everything or mock it. At me he always did both, whether at church, Scouts, school, whatever. I knew he had a difficult life and never held it against him, but his presence was always enervating. Yet this morning as I walked over to the ridge and the view he was taking in, it was a different feeling. He was watching the sun rise from a beautiful mountain ledge, and it was, frankly, heaven to witness. 

I asked if he minded that I stood there for a minute. When he turned I was shocked to see his eyes red with tears. I wrote down our conversation in my journal minutes after this encounter so I would always remember it; here is it exactly:

"Did you set up my tent and my things last night?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"Thank you."

A long pause while we watch the sun rise.

"I don't mean all the things I say about you. It's like ... sometimes I just can't help it. I'm not trying to be mean."

"I know." 

"I'm sorry when I hurt your feelings. I don't want to, but I just ... do."

"I know. And I forgive you. I always do. I always will."

Another long pause.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

After that, we had breakfast, explored, did the usual camping things. The way down was, mercifully, a thousand times easier than the way up. But that conversation was everything to me. It let me understand my friend all the times he would make fun of me or laugh at me, which he continued to do all the way until we (well, I) finished high school. It made it easy to forgive him when he was insulting or degrading or verbally abusive, and it saved me from carrying a grudge against him and the other boys when I finally went to college, grew a few inches, and built enough confidence to make lasting friends. And when I ran into him a few years ago, after I had been to college and he had been to ... other places, I was genuinely happy to see him, which surprised him. But it didn't surprise me, not after that experience 21 years ago. 

[Chisos]

Like others have said it's hard to narrow it down to one...but a few would be: (a) The whole crew singing Garth Brooks' "Friends in Low Places" as we hiked into base camp over via the Tooth of Time at Philmont (a bunch of Texas boys, go figure!); (b) At Sea Base, anchored up off Key West, grilling steaks and fresh fish on the boat, and (c) Our wickedly awesome OA Brotherhood Ceremony team.

[qwazse]

Excerpt from a recent reminisce with my siblings:

"...  when I was in high school, my neighbor (the best scout I ever knew - who aged out Second class rank) overheard an argument at the local sporting goods store over the location of the Board Tree tunnel. He asked our scoutmaster, who told him to find a buddy, and he'd take us to explore each entrance. So my buddy gave me a call, and the following Saturday we went over to the SM's house, studied his USGS maps (which showed it went under the state line) and drove off southwest. We found the PA entrance, but didn't dare the tunnel, which was flooded in parts. So we followed the old telegraph lines overland, which made for a rugged but rewarding climb to the WV side. It was an astounding fall day. I vividly remember walking down the road back to the car and reaching out to see if I was merely in front of a painted canvas. (I wasn't. It was real.) 

Before heading back home, our SM asked if we wanted to see the comer of the state. Of course we said yes, so we pulled over by a field, traipsed across some farmland into a stand of trees (maples and sassafras, I think), and found a cornerstone in the shape of an obelisk with WV carved on two adjacent sides, WV|PA on one side, and PA|WV on the last side. There was a smaller stone some yards off, which we assumed was the previous marker, but we couldn't make out any markings, as it was badly weathered. ..."

[Saltface]

A few years ago, our troop went on a backpacking trip. It was their first such trip for many of my first-year scouts. Two scouts from the new scout patrol would grumble, complain, and ask "How much farther?" every ten feet. (Naturally, I gave nonsensical answers every time: two parsecs, we passed it already, an orange, etc.)

A third new scout never said a word.

The hike ended with a long uphill slog terminating at the parking lot. Dropping his pack in the truck bed, he said under his breath, "That is the hardest thing I have ever done."

He opted for the Swimming MB for his Eagle.

[Jameson76]

Most are good

Will go with the most recent.  We were at summer camp last week, had 40+ scouts attending.  Thursday night after the afternoon offsite activities we cooked cobbler and the Boy Scouts organized up a cornhole tournament.  The leaders provided the stuff,  Boy Scouts mixed, and cooked.  It was getting dusk, the cobbler was getting close to complete.  I did a head count as the leaders stood off to one side.  All the scouts were there, no phones, just a group of Boy Scouts, in the woods, week coming to a close, enjoying the evening.

[Oldscout448]

52 minutes ago, Jameson76 said:

Most are good

Will go with the most recent.  We were at summer camp last week, had 40+ scouts attending.  Thursday night after the afternoon offsite activities we cooked cobbler and the Boy Scouts organized up a cornhole tournament.  The leaders provided the stuff,  Boy Scouts mixed, and cooked.  It was getting dusk, the cobbler was getting close to complete.  I did a head count as the leaders stood off to one side.  All the scouts were there, no phones, just a group of Boy Scouts, in the woods, week coming to a close, enjoying the evening.

Ah, the smell of wood smoke and burning cobbler.  Nothing quite like it.

[Sentinel947]

So many  to think of. A few that come to mind:

The night I passed my Eagle Board of Review. 

Waking up one morning at Philmont after a horrific rainstorm to a valley sunrise shrouded in fog. The Scouts were still asleep, so the advisors just enjoyed the quiet and peace. 

I just finished staffing an NYLT course last week, and I have one from that. After the course ended the SPL gave me a hug and told me "I wouldn't have made it through this week without you, you need to come back to staff next year, and you'll make a great Scoutmaster someday." This was a youth that I'd impacted very strongly in our limited time preparing for the course. It was very humbling.

@The Latin Scot: I like that idea. I'm going to start carrying a pocket journal around. I've had so many great things happen in my Scouting experience that have been blurred by time. I'm really sentimental, so I'd love to have a stronger recollection of things. 

[desertrat77]

Great stories, thanks all!

The big experiences were great, but it is the subtle ones that mean the most to me now.

My second camporee.  Southern Arizona desert grasslands.  Friday night it rained buckets but finally let up.  We had a fire going, with a deep bed of glowing coals.  One of the scout's dad was helping out that weekend, a very decent gent.  We stayed by the fire and chatted while most of the others turned in.  I'll never forget his kindness and willingness to talk with a newbie Tenderfoot.

My first year on camp staff in Alaska.  I was assigned to the rifle range.  I was expected to get to the range first each day.  I always hiked there by myself.  Those early morning walks through the wet birch forest.  Quiet.  Delicious smell of vegetation.  Peaceful.  Thirty minutes till everyone else showed.  I'd get everything set up and have time to enjoy the tranquility.

The celebratory feast after completing my Ordeal in '76.

 

 

 

 

Edited June 19, 2018 by desertrat77