Showing posts with label Allagash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Allagash. Show all posts

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Portrayal of America, Part V


Maine, The Allagash Wilderness
Waterway – July 2003

For the Panther patrol, this is their last camping trip together with Troop 891. Alan, Will, Mitch, Ross, John, and Randy are all Eagle Scouts. This particular trip has them canoeing through a series of lakes for an average of eighty miles over the course of six days. They carry all of their necessary gear with them in the canoes, and they camp on shore at night. They awake early in the morning and lead the younger Scouts who are far less experienced. In no time, they are on the water, paddling anywhere from nine to fourteen miles before midday.

Civilization is nowhere to be found; they are literally on their own with nature, and it is a magnificent sight to behold. Endless green forests surround crystal clear pools. They find occasional eagles perched on tree branches and even come across an assortment of four-legged wildlife, including white-tailed deer and moose. The third day of canoeing brings them to a set of rapids, which they maneuver through masterfully. Working as a team, Alan searches for rocks and provides the main thrust of the paddling, while Will keeps them headed in the right direction. With every dunk and drag of the paddle, they push their vessels through the still water of vast lakes. The weather is fierce at times, but they invite the obstacle and conquer it. At night, they make elaborate meals with their camp stoves and the ingredients they’ve procured and brought along in their canoes.

The paddling is monotonous and tiring, so they take short breaks and rest at night. But they always return to the task at hand. They have a mission to accomplish, and if they’ve learned anything through their time as Boy Scouts, it is of the worth and fulfillment of hard work and determination.

On the sixth and last day of their canoe trek through Maine, they reach the little town of Allagash, where they camp for the night and await the outfitters who intend to ferry them and their canoes back to their starting point. This is really the end, Alan suddenly realizes. This is his last Boy Scout adventure. The lessons he has learned and the friendships he has made will last forever. Nothing can replace the countless nights of bonding by campfires and watching the sunrise from atop mountain summits after enduring the difficult hike. He will always remember the times when the end of the trail was nowhere in sight, and the journey no longer seemed worth the effort, and how it took the hand of a friend to help him make it the distance.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Portrayal of America, Part I


November, 2004


Out of sheer boredom, I found myself perusing my old word documents this evening and stumbled upon a college essay I wrote my sophomore year. The assignment was titled, "Portrayal of America," and I chose to write about the Boy Scouts of America, being fresh out of the program and a proud Eagle Scout. Anyhow, my writing skills are not that developed yet, but I think this is a pretty cool treatise on the Boy Scouts as an organization...how it came to be, what it stands for, and what it has to offer the youth of our nation. While all of the events depicted in the article are real, I took the creative liberty of changing names and details. Here follows Part I...


The Longest Hike


The Appalachian Trail – April 1999

At 7:30 in the morning, the sun sprinkles droplets of light through a canopy of overhanging tree branches. Beneath it, the boys of Troop 891 awake and crawl from the comfort of their tents and squint in awe.

“It’s a beautiful morning, boys!” cries a strong-looking man wearing a bright red fleece jacket, olive green shorts, socks hiked up to his knees, and a pair of well-worn, sturdy hiking boots. A dozen boys, ranging from the ages of eleven to seventeen, come out of their temporary homes, their hair in shambles and eyes sagging to their chins.

“The early bird gets the worm,” says the man adorned in traditional Scout fatigue, their Scoutmaster, Mr. Reynolds. The boys groan but know he’s right. They have six more miles to hike that morning – all up hill – and they hiked eleven the day before. If they intend to make it the distance, they had better consume a decent breakfast.

They split into their patrols – each with its own unique name – and the designated cooks gets to work on the meal. However, some boys are less prepared than others. Those who have not brought along the proper equipment mope around, kicking small rocks and stirring clouds of dirt. No one has been cheated here. It is their own fault if they’re unhappy. Some of these boys are learning self-reliance the hard way. No one is required to help them, but someone always does out of kindness.

It requires some time to take down their tents, shake the rain flies dry of the dripping dew, clean up their cooking utensils, and secure their backpacks with all their gear. Some boys have more to carry, because they have brought some items they did not need. With experience, they will learn to weigh the necessities. The boys sleep two to a tent; therefore, they split the weight when hiking. The younger boys are far less experienced when it comes to camping, and it is the senior Scouts’ duty to aid and encourage them in this new experience. Paul and Drew – both seventeen – are the oldest on this trip, nearly Eagle Scouts. After packing up their gear, they tend to the younger boys’ needs, and they do it willingly, because they remember when they, too, were young and needy.

In little over an hour, the boys are ready to go. Paul and Drew lead the Troop on this six-mile portion of the Appalachian Trail in Northern Virginia, with the scouts ages thirteen to fifteen trailing right behind. Mr. Reynolds takes up the rear with another volunteer scoutmaster, Mr. Haywood, in order to make sure no one is left behind. The youngest Scouts hike just ahead of them, awkwardly lugging their twenty to twenty-five pound external frame backpacks. Determined to prove themselves capable, they complain little and help each other along the way.

The six-mile ascent proves long and tiring, even for Paul and Drew. But they eventually reach the parking lot where their trailer and vehicles have been awaiting their arrival. Paul unfastens his waist belt and lets his pack slide off his back. Leaning against the trailer, he breathes in deeply before taking a huge swig of water from his indestructible Nalgene bottle. Realizing he has just completed another grueling hike on a tough mountain trail, he grins in satisfaction. It has been a weekend well spent, and he’s proven to himself yet again that he is up to the challenge.