My Feet Ache – Backpacking on the C&O Canal

September 2002

            For many scouts, the concept of hiking on a Saturday rather than munching cookies and soda in front of their video games or Internet chat-room requires that they exercise the appendages at the end of their legs rather than their arms.  In an effort to save the sanity of our scoutmasters, when we undertake a more rigorous adventure along the Appalachian Trail in November, the troop decided to hold a beginner’s hike along the C&O canal for new scouts who bridged into the troop last spring.  Now, we don’t want to leave the impression that we pamper these young men – we did hike along the trail in the northerly direction, which is technically uphill.

Participants were old timers fresh from backpacking in the real hills of Philmont this past summer, Nick B, Philip E, and Dan G – one, who it must be noted in passing, has undergone a transformation from a “I can’t go on” type to a mountain goat, in just a couple of years.  Other, less experienced, were Louis B, Aaron C, Donovan D, Ryan E, Morgan H, David Mc, and Josh T.   Getting the crew there were adults Don B, Neil B, Jim Mc, and Paul S.  

Weeks of “no rain in the forecast” were to be put to the test as the rainmakers set out in brilliant sunshine from Seneca/Riley’s Lock heading for Cumberland, as one of our illustrious scoutmasters proudly proclaimed to passers-by.  Were they impressed!  Soon several of the new scouts were actively engaged in identifying ten signs of wildlife to satisfy one of their rank requirements. Anything to keep their minds off their feet.  Lunch destined to be at mile marker 36 was reached without incident – except for the debate centered on the mileage to Dulles airport, the assumed destination of those low flying airliners.  Estimates, voraciously supported with exemplary vigor, ranged from 10 miles to 40.  We must look up the answer, but the money is on the wise old soul who suggested ten – since the correct answer is eight, notwithstanding the erroneous information to be presented later.  Suitably nourished, the motley crew reassembled for the remaining few miles to Edward’s Ferry – our destination for the night.  Our weathermen – one official and one “looks like rain”, well enough said about his credentials – noted that the aircraft no longer were silhouetted against a blue sky which had given way to a gray overcast.  Could it be?  The afternoon jaunt was spotted with sundry equipment problems and the onset of the rebellious body questioning the owner “aren’t we supposed to be sitting down in front of the TV on a Saturday afternoon – my feet are beginning to ache”.  Nevertheless, Edward’s Ferry was reached by late afternoon and scouts were soon pitching tents while savoring the treats being offered by another troop who were leaving for Baltimore.

“What was that?”

“Could it have been a spot of rain?”

Cooking was the next order of business and multi-functional stoves were soon sprouting up with assorted trail delights – nothing heartier than Mr. Don’s favorite – Dinty Moore stew over noodles.

“No, we cannot have a fire tonight – don’t you know were in a drought and everything is bone dry.”

Just as the food was ready to eat, it happened.

“Get your rain gear out NOW and make sure you cover your packs”

This was not a gentle shower in the woods.  Thank goodness the English language is rich in words conveying differing degrees of intensity associated with the same concept.  Shower, it was not.  Monsoon neither.  Deluge – that’s the word – and you can append your own adjective to modify as you see fit.  By this time our scoutmaster could see the writing on the wall and had conjured up some excuse to travel to Bethesda to watch his son’s high school soccer game.  Leaving his fellow scoutmasters to suffer the vagaries of the weather, he returned the next morning to report that it had not rained in Bethesda – not even a hint of rain.  The downpour was just where 396 was camping.

Well off for another five miles on Sunday morning to move us from Edward’s to White’s Ferry.  By now the aching feet were in full harmony as each footstep was accompanied by a whimper of sorrow determined to test the fortitude of those within earshot.  White’s Ferry is in daily operation shuttling vehicles of various types across the Potomac River to Virginia and indicates that Dulles Airport is 17 miles away.  It can only be said that planes may not be crows, but therein lays the tale of the tape.

Hopefully, this uphill grind to Cumberland will permit the scouts to choose their level of activity and prepare for the Appalachian Trail backpacking trip in November, so that they will enjoy the trip rather than suffer when real hills have to be climbed.

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Canada-USA Brotherhood Camporee

September 2001/2

        There must be something special going on in Havre de Grace in late September to induce scouts, their scoutmaster, and Trinity’s pastor to meet in the church parking lot at 4am.  It is not as if Havre de Grace is exactly one of the must-see destinations on the tourist’s agenda.  Searching for clues to this conundrum all lead directly to Rev. Henry.  It all goes back twenty years or so, when Rev. Henry was pastor of the church at Congress and Union in Havre de Grace and forged his links with Scout Troop 967, who were one of three initiating troops of the Brotherhood Camporee that now attracts 3,500 scouts and leaders annually.  So why 4 am?  To catch the 7am chartered bus from Havre de Grace heading for Morristown, Ontario in 2001 and Wellesley Island, NY in 2002.  On board were scouts from Havre de Grace and North East, MD, all well and truly shepherded by veterans of this event Dale and Everett – two of only four people to have attended all 29 Camporees.  Other long time friends from Havre de Grace keeping Rev. Henry in place for the weekend were Joe, Bill, Clark, John, and Michael all of whom, by the way, made Michael K, Jonathon D, and Aaron C immediately feel at home.  They knew the secret to a scout’s happiness – food in his stomach – indeed the thirteenth point of the Scout Law – a Scout is Hungry.

Well it is a long ride to Canada and, though shorter to the Thousand Islands, it took just as long in 2002, since the bus did not fare too well going uphill.  When you start from sea level – it is all uphill.  Jonathon’s parents were somewhat reluctant to turn their pride and joy loose in an enclosed space for 10 hours – however, let it be documented for the record that even Jonathon ran out of conversation and, indeed, met his match in one of the other scouts present – although it must be said that Jonathon’s conversation was more interesting?  Soon the miles were just flying by, or crawling if you were on the 2002 bus.  Rest stop number one saw us in the Finger Lakes region of New York and out with our sandwiches.  A quick geography lesson, on the roadside map, soon alerted Jonathon to the town of Paul Smiths, NY and, to the best of my knowledge, he is now lobbying hard for a similar arrangement for guess who.  Back on the bus – hey it’s cold up here – saw us heading for the Canadian border.  In 2001, just a couple of weeks after the terrorist bombings of 9/11, resulted in an increased security presence at the border crossing and an hour long wait to reach the authorities.  In time, we were questioned by a Canadian policeman, complete with flak jacket, who boarded the bus and wanted to know if anyone had a henway.  Unsure of his intent and not wanting to be uncooperative in the extant circumstances, many of us quizzically asked “What’s a henway?”  “About 3-4 pounds” he responded and that was our security check.  Thankfully, he didn’t say 1-2 kilos, which undoubtedly would have led to “What’s a kilo?” and blotted the reputation of our fine catholic schooling.

About an hour later we rolled into the campground – one of the many Parks of the St. Lawrence.  Note this is a clever trick on the part of the writer to disguise the fact that he doesn’t know its name, although the Parks of the St. Lawrence bit is correct, it is the bit about “one of” that is ambiguous.  We were the very first troop to arrive and the 396 contingent were surprised at the size of the tent 967 had brought with them – an 85 x 30 foot monster that we were soon helping to erect, mainly by holding supports while others, primarily Clark, who knew what they were doing, directed operations.  Little did we know at the time that this big top was to be the center of operations and activity for the whole weekend.  In 2002, we of course knew what to expect as we pulled off the interstate and claimed our campsite on Wellesley Island.  Nevertheless, despite our experience, these endeavors never cease to be an adventure and we performed our monster construction as the remnants of Tropical Storm Isadore poured rain on us.  This would not have been too bad, except our gear was off loaded from the bus in a gigantic pile beneath tarpaulins.  Good idea, but somewhere in there was our rain gear.  It took this old chronicler of 396 exploits until Saturday afternoon to finally dry out.  In both years, by evening, the Green Monster – where have you heard that before, Michael? - tent was filled, as in sardines in a can, with scouts clutching patches of various shapes and shades each vying for a precious seat at the dealing table on which to display one’s wares for trading.  Only the prospect of turning off the lights – yes this tent comes with electricity – got these pack rats to go back to their less salubrious tents before 11 o’clock.  Saturday was much the same, except without the need for good Mr. Edison’s invention, scouts all over the place – like as in, all over the whole campground – were spreading their offerings in the hope of catching the eye of a fellow patch trader with whom they could conduct business.  Leave your money behind; the only common currency is CSPs, with a few willing to accept foreign exchange such as OA or other insignia.  Our novices were under the guidance of Rev. Henry, an accomplished and polished performer on this stage, who soon laid down the most important criterion for a successful first camporee – come home with a Canadian beret.  The encouragement was taken to heart as each obtained the Holy Grail of the Brotherhood Camporee and with consummate bartering skills adorned the aforementioned chapeau with sundry pins.  What they gave up in return for their trophies is a closely held secret.

Oh yes, there was an opening complete with Canadian and American flags being unfurled and raised respectively.  Aaron C, despite the fact that the 2002 Camporee was held in the United States, was determined to visit Canada.  Visit may seem a stretch of the truth, but borders are borders, and the north end of Wellesley Island forms the frontier between Canada and the States – a rocky outcrop, dip of the feet into the water, and lo and behold, here I am in Canada.   Only the St. Lawrence between me and that Canadian flag over there!  A few activities were available for those who did not trade such as tomahawk throwing, archery, a zip line, chain saw carving – OK this was a demonstration – but in reality this is a patch trading event.  Well, one of our group did infinitely better than the others, coming home with a couple of pins and a patch – not bad since he did not take anything to trade.  Otherwise, this nameless individual strolled around taking pictures and spending his time in the coffee tent with Dale, Everett, Bill and the gang remorselessly recounting embarrassing stories of former Camporees, some of which featured the Executive Officer of our Chartering Organization.

Our food was a highlight of the trip.  Several groups banded together to take turns in the big tent to produce an epicurean delight.  Our turn on Saturday evening featured roast beef accompanied by mashed potatoes and the rest.  Other delicacies included spicy, or not as your preference, sausages with onions and other assorted condiments.  And there was always coffee, three pots on the go at any given time.

Friday was a free day in 2001 and we set off for Upper Canada Village – a sort of wannabee Williamsburg – that recreates life in a Canadian village at the turn of the 19^th century.  Rev. Henry’s delight was showing off the water-powered sawmill.  For a closer look at the hydraulics, he knew the exact spot for the best view as the water was let into the feeder sluice.   Stepping aside to indicate to the sluice-man that they were ready, he produced his camera to record for posterity the boys getting a closer look of the hydraulics than expected, as the water rammed into the gate and gave them a shower.  We had a ride on a canal barge and found out that canal traffic was introduced rather than using the St Lawrence to protect the Canadians from American raiders.  We visited farms, clothing stores, the drug store, and saw spinning demonstrations.  There were other water driven manufacturing operations and especially interesting was the weaving factory.  All in all it was a most pleasant day, although it could have been a couple of degrees warmer.

The trip home was routine with a stop for lunch of cold roast beef sandwiches and an obligatory stop for fast food on the Pennsylvania turnpike.  Saying our farewells to the new found friends at Havre de Grace, we rolled into Annapolis in the late Sunday evening.  Thanking Rev. Henry for organizing this event, we set off home for a good night’s sleep before school the next day.  At least the alarm did not go off at 3:30am.

Our scouts sampling this event enjoyed the experience and hope this will become an annual event that is a regular part of the troop calendar.  For this to become a reality, it will need the commitment of parents to allow their sons to miss school for two days in late September.  In 2003, it is hoped that the party will visit the Canadian capital, Ottawa, and tour sites of interest including the Parliament Buildings.  To prevent further embarrassment in the future, we will try to make a good faith effort to capture all the words to the Canadian national anthem, so that we do not end up mumbling repetitively “O Canada” to every line.

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Capitol District Awards Banquet

May 2002

Marty Rowland was a long-time scouter who established an award for the scouting unit that best met several criteria indicating a quality unit.  These include an active program for the scouts, involvement in community events, scouts advancing in rank and merit badges, growing membership, and trained leadership.  We are very pleased to be recognized by this award and everyone in the troop should be proud of their contribution to making 396 the Pride of The Capitol.  We have an organization that starts its commitment to excel at the very top with the support of Trinity United Methodist Church.  This is supplemented by one of the outstanding qualities of this troop, the experience and commitment of adults to support not just the troop but also the District.  For example, one of our former scoutmasters Dick I. was the District’s Chairperson, another, Denny B., is active both at the troop and District level supporting the Life to Eagle scouts, and Brev M. recently moved from spearheading the financial arm of the District to the troop’s Unit Commissioner.  His boss, so to speak, the District Commissioner is none other than our Charlie B., who also doubles as the District Chaplain.  Quite a show of support by our troop for the District.  Another outstanding attribute is the way the troop does business.  We try to do it according to the Boy Scout way and our Board of Review’s organized by John J. and supported by Cindy C.’s committee members are an example of how to conduct affairs correctly.  From my perspective, the troop is particularly blessed with a group of scoutmasters who regularly give their time and experience in support of our outdoor program.  They are without parallel in the district and are without doubt the backbone of the troop.  The scouts themselves are also part of the picture, winning for themselves the Spirit Award at the District Camporee.  This is a great achievement with so many of our new scouts participating and for the leadership provided through our Senior Patrol Leader Nick B.

It is hard to relegate the achievements of a wonderful individual, former scoutmaster Brev, to the second paragraph.  However, Brev is as responsible as anyone for the achievements noted above – his program forms the foundation of our current calendar and his commitment to making sure that each scout gains recognition for his achievements remains a cornerstone of 396’s outlook.  Brev was awarded the District’s Award of Merit for his many years of service to scouting in our community.  It is our good fortune that Brev has transferred his talents from the fiscal aspects of the District to that of Unit Commissioner for 396 – a position from which he can oversee our operations and help ensure that our troop remains a quality unit within The Capitol District.

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