I'm Back . . . . From Scout Camp!

So five days after having stents removed from my nasal cavity (and with stitches still in my wrist) I decided (or rather was begged into believing by my new, desperate Bishop) that the perfect way to convalesce was to spend 3 days with several hundred 12 to 16 year old boys shedding excess testosterone -- i.e. attending scout camp at Marin Sierra. And you know, there is nothing like fine Sierra dust on recently scraped and still raw sinuses. Unless, of course, that dust is accompanied by fumes that can only emanate from a pit toilet. I'm afraid I may have done permanent damage. Oh well. As you can see from the following, little Chubb lake is a beauty.



This is the location of Scout Camp, below Donner Pass, which is up and to the right, and very near Lake Spaulding, which is the dam in the center foreground.


Our first day began with a six a.m. swim test. Why six a.m., you ask? My thought exactly . . . (still haven't received a satisfactory response, other than the testosterone thing.)


Franco wouldn't let me post the great shot I have of everyone but him jumping in on the first command . . . but I did get one of him finally jumping after everyone else had taken the plunge.




After the swim it was breakfast with all the other troops.


Our fearless patrol leader looking the part as we wait for the morning assembly.

Adam waiting for assembly.

Nate waiting for assembly. . . .

After assembly, it was off to classes.

Franco headed straight for the rifle range, where the master of the range, our own Larry Salarpi, helped him hone his skills. Then he headed to archery. I'm sensing a theme here. . . taking the role of family protector very, very seriously, I guess.


Others decided to head to the water front right away.

Adam canoeing through Chubb Lake without drowning or fighting with his canoe partner.


Jason learning the fine art of securing a rowboat with a sturdy knot.

Nate started with environmental science.


"This is First Aid, scout, and you will be injured!" Our very own Charles, just doing his usually thorough job as a staff member at camp!

All in all it was great fun. There are worse places to spend time . . . though I hope my nose actually survives and can still smell. The jury is definitely out on that.