Day 1... The Morning

Our first day of cub scout camp started with a refreshing dip in the glacier filled pool. Our troop got the first slot because we had the most “campers” that had not taken the required swimming test the evening before.

There were three ranks: white, blue/white and red/white/blue. If you got red/white/blue, you could go out on a canoe. Blue/white only allowed you on a rowboat, as long as a red/white/blue was with you. (There were sailboats too, but, with only a college education, I didn't think I'd be able to decipher the level of colors needed to use the sailboat.) If you had white, I don't think you were allowed to even look at the water.

This was when I found out that I had forgotten my swim suit in the changing room the night before. My son and I were all set to swim. (He was ready to swim, I was preparing myself for bone-numbing water.) I checked my pack and I had my towel, but no swim suit. I was crushed. (At least I put on a good act for my son.) I checked the pool's lost and found and no swim suit. I even walked up and checked the main office for the missing suit. Luckily, my son had several friends he could buddy up with. (You were not allowed to even look at the pool unless you had a buddy. From the rules briefing, it sounded like you were not allowed to be more than five feet from your buddy. I'm guessing, if your buddy drowned, it was your responsibility to drown with him, unless it was in the shallow end and less than five feet deep.)

I could tell the other parents were jealous of me. I had a valid reason not to be in the icy pool. In the whole week we were there, I only counted two other fathers that braved the water. One was the scout master for the pack. He had pure cappuccino in his veins instead of blood, so I don't think he even felt the cold. (One morning, I noticed that all the fathers were gather around his tent. I wandered over to see what was so interesting. They were passing around a cup. I took a breath of the coffee he'd brewed and my heart rate skyrocketed to 140 beats a minute. I think it was three to four hours before I stopped stuttering from the caffeine jolt.) Two mothers went so far as to break their feet before camp even started so they wouldn't be guilted into going into the ice water.

After swimming, we had boating. My son and his friend wanted to go out. My son's friend had one of the mothers that opted to break her foot just so she wouldn't have to get in the pool. So, we all went out in a row boat (even though we were all red/white/blues, you can only have two in a canoe. They kinda screwed up this rule during the closing ceremony when three scouts rowed across the small lake in a canoe.)

There is nothing quite as funny as watching two kids row a boat together for the first time. They had the circle steering down perfectly. Unfortunately, they were trying to go straight. We had a quick lessen.

“Ok, guys. Oars out of the water and lean forward. Put your oars in the water and lean back... Ok, that was really good. Next time, hold onto the oars when you lean back. No, sit down, I'll get the oar out of the water.” A few minutes to reset and we tried again.

“That was better. Next time, put your oars in the water when you lean back and pull.” I was starting to figure out why the person that sits at the back of those row boats in the Olympics is always yelling...

After a few more minutes, I was dizzy and took over the rowing.

“Daddy, why are you going backwards.”

“Because that's the way rowboats are made.”

“But you can't see where you're going.”

“That's why you're suppose to tell me which way to go.”

That's about the time we hit the shore. “Daddy, turn left.”

At least it was almost lunchtime. And the we were closer to the dining hall now...

Camping - Coffee

“What time will coffee be ready in the morning?” One of the mothers asked. We were at the leaders' meeting for the cub scout camp. This being my first time at camp, I was interested in how things were going to work. They'd gathered all the adults (At least the adults that still had the energy to walk to the dinning hall) and had the kids at the opening camp fire. (Any time you combine five-year to ten-year olds and fire, I find it's a good idea to be far away.) There had been several, I thought, key points brought up But it wasn't until this question was asked that the parents actually perked up.

“The cooks will be here at six in the morning,” the camp coordinated answered.

“We'll start the coffee as soon as we get in,” the head cook added.

“So, if I take my shower at six, the coffee will be ready after? By 6:30?”

I think the look in that mother's eye and the tone of her voice finally got through. The cook gulped and promised that the coffee would be ready. The tension hung in the air as the adults waited. Finally, there was a slight nod from our caffeine leader and the deal was sealed.

Now, that I knew caffeine was guaranteed and the rest of the schedule for the week, I was all set. The kids would be in their cabins and asleep by 9 pm, cause that's when lights out was. I checked the time. We had 10 minutes to finish the opening campfire, then 10 minutes to hike up the trail to the camp site. (I'd made the hike up to the campsite after the swimming test. Once the spots cleared from my vision and the ringing in my ears passed, I could appreciate the view. I'm pretty sure there were eagles circling below us...) Once at the campsite, there was a full half hour for smores, teeth brushing and pjs. (They'd actually allowed mothers to come on the camping trip and they brought useless things like tooth brushes and changes of clothes.)

My tent (yes, the kids were in cabins and the adults were in tents.) was set up and my son already had his cot set up and stuff stowed in his cabin. He was happy because he had two pads on his cot and said it was the best bed ever.

Even though it was almost nine by the time I crawled into camp, I was still confident about the schedule. This was the cub scouts and they had Rules. (And a weird definition of the backstroke. I am going to take this to the Olympic committee. All the gold medals for the past Olympics need to be re-evaluated.) Apparently, chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers are not the ideal pre-bedtime snack. For the next two hours, the campsite was filled with running kids wielding flashlights, Frisbees and sticks. (Yes, when we saw them with the sticks, we stopped them, but you try and keep track of kids re-enacted Lord of the Flies. I was going with to the 80/20 rule. As long as we brought back 80% of the kids, we were ahead of the game.)

Finally, the dreaded “Time to brush teeth” was called. (This is the only known weakness for a pack of rabid boys.) We were only two hours past the lights out, but we still had all the kids and the all the parents and my tent was away from most of the cabins. (Strangely, the tents furthest from the cabins were picked first. Even though the tents only slept two, I think the farthest away ones had seven or eight adults crammed in.

By 12:30, the last of our kids were asleep. (I know this because there was another group camping on the other side of the ridge and I could hear their parents yelling at their kids well past 2:30 to stop talking.)

The next morning, for some reason, we had a bit of trouble getting the kids up and going. However, we did make roll call on time. (I think that was because all the adult were anxious for the promised coffee that was brewing and all ready by the time breakfast started at 8 am.)

As they let us in, there was a line of adults at the coffee urn.

Children should not be allowed to brew coffee, especially at camp. Technically, the cook hadn't lied. The coffee was ready. However, you should not be able to see the bottom of a styrofoam cup that is full of coffee. I think the adults took him aside and explained the finer points of morning and caffeine. The next day, the coffee was much darker and the parents were not nearly as whiney.

Only five days left until camp is over...