Matching Tracksuits

Our first camping trip with scouts was exactly six years ago this weekend -- I didn't know that until I checked the way-back machine at the bottom of the page. I was with the Boy during that trip, and I made sure he kept warm. And there was no rain, so keeping dry was a simple issue.

Camping with the Scouts

This weekend he was alone, and I had no idea how it would go. We went about our weekend, including a lovely walk this morning, as if everything had gone perfectly.

Still, the questions from Friday's post lingered in our heads:

Did we prepare him well enough? Is he going to keep warm and dry this evening? Will he accidentally put his pack up against the wall of the tent and get his stuff wet? There’s no way to know until Sunday.

"Camping"

And so today, we found out.

"Did we prepare him well enough?" No, not really. We didn't send him with a tarp to put under his tent, so he had to bunk with two other boys, crammed into their tent.

"Is he going to keep warm and dry this evening?" Most definitely not: the tent leaked.

"Will he accidentally put his pack up against the wall of the tent and get his stuff wet?" No, he didn't do that, but the tent leaked badly enough that almost all his clothes got wet, so he was stuck with one tee-shirt and a pair of shorts for the rest of the trip.

But did he have fun? Most definitely.

"Did you want to give up?" we asked him.

"Yes, that first morning." But after he and the boys he bunked with hiked back to the cars with one of the adults to get a spare tent and take back all their wet stuff -- which was almost everything -- things were fine.

Fine, but tiring -- which you can see from the picture of his return:

Once we got home, and he took a shower and had some warm, tasty home cooking, he settled down with a cup of hot tea to relax for a couple of hours.

The Boy has headed off on his first solo backpack camping trip. They left today at four, with the plan of hiking about an hour to their first site.

Tomorrow morning, they pack up and head further into the Foothills Trail, camping one more night before heading back Sunday.

And of course, it's raining there right now. If it's raining like it is here, it's a light rain that shouldn't cause too much trouble.

But it's rain nonetheless. Did we prepare him well enough? Is he going to keep warm and dry this evening? Will he accidentally put his pack up against the wall of the tent and get his stuff wet? There's no way to know until Sunday.

I forgot about the pictures we took in and of the new little tent we used last week.

To call it “cozy” is quite an understatement.

We had to store the gear in the cabin in which some of the other boys slept.

The idea is simple: to get Cub Scouts ready for being Boy Scouts, they spend a weekend as a small patrol as for-the-weekend Boy Scouts with an actual scout leading them through the weekend's activities.

"Parents, you will only see your children in the morning at breakfast, in the afternoon at lunch, in the evening at dinner, and when it's time to go to bed. We want to begin building a sense of independence in these kids," the camp leader explained Friday night.

So as to what the Boy actually did, I'm a little clueless. Which is not to say I don't know what activities he did. He shot a pellet gun, learned how to make a fire, cooked cobbler over a campfire, went on a hike, and a few other things. But as to what that actually looked like, I really don't know. I saw him here and there throughout the day, but mostly, I left him alone with his patrol and its Boy Scout leader.

And this is why I have no pictures of him doing these things: I was out hiking or reading or grading papers.

In the evening, as with all scout camps, there was a variety show of sorts. The kids put on various skits, including the scout classic "Important Papers."

"Do you have my important papers?" Scout hands the boy papers. "No! Not these!" The next scout comes up and the main actor asks again, "Do you have my important papers?" Scout hands the boy papers. "No! Not these!" Repeat for as many times as necessary until there's one scout who comes with a roll of toilet paper. "Yes! These are my important papers!" We've seen it done every camp, which is probably one of the reasons why the leaders have to approve each skit -- to prevent every patrol from doing the "Important Papers" favorite.

The upshot -- we got little sleep but E had a fantastic time and was eager to go again.

The idea behind a campout is that we take a temporary home with us, setting it up in a forest and staying there for a night or two. Without that little element, it's a day trip.

But what if you forget something? No, not the tent. The tent arrived with us safe and sound in the trunk. Along with the sleeping bags, air mattresses, camera, water-and-snack bag, shoes, Class A uniform, and cell phone. What didn't make it? Our backpack filled with clothes. And toiletries. And flashlights.

K called just as we were crossing into North Carolina.

"Where are you?"

"We're still on our way, just crossing into North Carolina."

A long pause.

"Because you forgot the backpack with everything in it."

I'd so meticulously packed everything, taking care to plan for all eventualities -- long sleeves for sleeping, a jacket for the morning, extra contact lenses for me, extra everything -- and double-checking that I had everything. And then I didn't double-check that I had everything in the car.

We made plans: perhaps friends were coming and they could bring the bag. Nope, not this year. Perhaps the den leader knew of someone who was coming later and they could bring the bag that K would take over to them. Nope. In the end, we decided to wait a few hours and see. If the Boy wanted to stay, K and I could meet halfway, making it only an hour-and-a-half round trip for both of us. If not, we'd just go home after the evening's bonfire.

As often happens, the Boy was reticent to engage with the other boys at first. He clung to my side for the first half hour or so. Eventually, he joined in.

It's a common theme for the Boy. He likes to watch from the periphery for a while, check out what's going on, see who's who. I think he gets it from me. K just dives in -- she's one of the most socially fearless people I've ever met. I'm a bit more cautious, and whether by example or genetics, the Boy has gotten that from me.

Once he felt comfortable, once he joined in with a couple of boys from his den, I didn't see him all that much during the free play times. He was a totally transformed boy, and his chattiness and silliness took hold, for once he's figured out the what's going on, he chats with everyone. He used to chat with players on the opposing soccer team during games, for heaven's sake, so perhaps he's a mix of K and me.

After games, we went for a den hike. Four boys from the den were there, four fathers as well, along with a big sister.

Mr. B, the den master, taught the kids about a few plants and trees, helped them find insects, discussed the possibility of fish living in the pond we were walking beside, and explained to the boys what was on tap for the evening.

"In the evening, we'll be having a flag retirement ceremony and a little variety show," Mr. B explained. "We'll have to prepare a skit for tonight's show."

I'd already talked to the Boy about the flag ceremony. Last year he'd been disturbed by the fact that the scouts were burning flags.

This year, we talked about it several times before the event, so he was not nearly as worried. This year was different as well because there were so many flags for retirement that every scout received a flag to put on the fire.

After the ceremony and the skit, the Boy and I headed home.

"I definitely need a shower when we get home," E proclaimed, but I knew with an hour and a half trip ahead of us, there was little chance of him being awake when we got there. And indeed, by the time we were ten minutes out, he was fast asleep.