I was correct to worry, but it turned out OK

     Nearly all of my church assignments have had to do with the young men.  I was Scoutmaster for about twelve years with one or another age group, and I get to count being Bishop of a congregation as well as the two missions served in South America.  I'm presently helping with the 16-18 year-old young men.

     So it was no huge surprise when in December I was asked to be the specialist for the encampment of the 12-18 year olds that took place last week.  We were lucky to have access to an old Boy Scout camp for the activity, one with very few facilities beyond fire rings and water spigots.  We decided to not risk poisoning them or their leaders with any of my cooking, and so the largest expense was the cost of renting eight port-a-johns to place around the camp.  Over a thousand dollars, in case you are planning the next backyard party and need eight of them.

     Since our church parted ways with the Scouts a couple of years ago, outdoor skills have atrophied among the youth, so we decided to spend a day in classes covering such basic stuff as knots, starting fires (a good thing or a bad thing, depending), 

first aid, and despite everything being based on GPS now, map and compass. 

     We also felt that returning the favor and doing some service at the camp would be good for the soul, so we spent a half-day cleaning ditches.  

     No good turn goes unpunished, of course, and I was one of several folks attacked by yellow jacket bees when we disturbed their ground nest. 

 

     The final full day was The Day of Manly Feats of Strength and Cunning.   This included such Manly Feats as crossing The Alligator Pit of Death (three cheap inflatable alligators and a big suspended rope to shinny across), Math Fight!, surviving The Water Balloon Firing Squad, figuring out What's Wrong With This Guy? and others.  

     The day ended with, among other things, an eight-vessel Canoe Race.  In my kayak, I represented a pylon around which they had to pass, and the rules didn't say I couldn't move.  A lot.

     The final event was Canoe Jousting.  

     It would have gone better if the padding on my jousting poles hadn't nearly fallen off when it became soaked, and if their canoe-maneuvering skills had been better.  Since no one has to learn how to drive a canoe nowadays, it took an agonizing amount of time for the adversaries to get turned around and come close enough to cause actual harm to each other.

     That said, almost everyone had a good time, and some even learned something.  It was a good experience for many of the young men and their leaders, and in the end was worth the effort.

     However, the months leading up to the event were tough on me, and I haven't sleep well in a while.  I'm afraid I may have to invoke Rule 69 next year if I'm asked to help again.  Rule 69 says that when you reach that age you don't have to do this stuff any more.  

     We hope that your encampments go as well and that the bees leave you alone.

Dave