Scout Camp Part 5

Back at camp, the day of the hike, a storm descended on the camp. It reminded me of one time many years ago when I was hiking through an alpine valley in the Pacific Northwest when the sky opened up and unleashed a torrential downpour. Thunder struck so close that you could hear its deafening crack before the rolling boom of the thunder. Having enclosed everything in plastic bags inside my backpack before leaving for the camping trip and pulled everything away from the sides of the tent, which was covered by a rain fly and a tarp, I was in pretty good shape, hunkered down and reading, when I learned from another camper that the scouts' tents were collapsing.

It wasn't long before I was helping to fold up tents and haul sopping sleeping bags and clothing to the still-covered general area so they could be staged for an emergency exit. We ate a hasty meal while still working and near dusk, the bus that had brought the scouts arrived and they marched in single file back onto it and took them down the road. The rain slowed to a drizzle as we loaded the Pablo's pickup with what remained of the kitchen before loading on all the scout's gear. By the time we got on the road in the back of Pablo pickup, it was after dark. With the rush of cold air cutting through my clothing and the glare of headlights aching in my brain, the ride back quickly turned miserable.

Back at the clubhouse there was still worked to do before we could go home. With the Daihatsu pulled up in the rain on the far side of the basketball court, we formed a chain, handing off unloaded items, from one person to the next up to the covered area. While we sorted things out and scouts rummaged around to find their bags, parents trickled in to hear their harrowing tails and take them home. Finally, when all had been unloaded and I was satisfied I had helped enough, I went home, happy to once again sleep in my bed.