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On Dietz's Pond
The Grizzlies are the new patrol this year, and this was their first overnight as Boy Scouts. After much discussion, they settled on a level, 10-foot wide, grassy strip of trail as the right place to set up. I left them there to erect their little ghetto of tents in the woods and went off to see what the older Scouts were doing for sleeping arrangements. Three of the guys had taken a tarp up to the top of a steep hill and were busily tying this to saplings to make a lean-to. This seemed perfectly serviceable as long as the wind didn't pick up too much, and who would expect any wind way up on a hilltop? Aside from the heart attack of a climb to reach their site, and the dubious shape of their tent, the view from the top was glorious.
Joe Dolby, Fred Foster and Dennis Yount were with us, too. These men had come to share in their son's adventures, and to take a good deal of the work off my hands. They set up modern tents at one end of the pond, and I set up a tarp tent as a half pyramid at the other.
Plan B was camp stew for the Grizzlies, and we came prepared. Did you know that if you take skunk cabbage leaves and boil them four times, they can be eaten? I read this in a recipe on the Internet, so it must be true, and I did consider adding this ingredient to the stew meat, potatoes, carrots, and chicken noodle soup that were to make up our evening meal. I considered it until I recalled that the Internet recipe also included possum parts, and a disclaimer concerning intestinal distress, vomiting and dizziness. The Grizzlies ate a wonderful camp stew that they prepared with their own hands and cooked on an open fire. This stew did not, however, include any skunk cabbage.
All was well, and a little after midnight, I trailed off to bed. My night beside the pond was wonderful. The temperature got down to 37 degrees, but I was using a new heavy-duty bag that the boys bought me last Christmas and I was oh so snug. I fell asleep listening to the spring peepers peeping, the bullfrogs croaking, and to some odd amphibians that made a "zzzzzzsss" sound in sequence, so that it seemed that some giant creature was gently snoozing in the pond at the foot of my bed. I woke just before dawn to a dozen redwing blackbirds perched on cattails and chattering, no doubt, about the presence of so many strangers in their midst. Then two, even noisier, Canada geese landed on the water, and so I gave a stretch and got up to take a little walk before the camp awoke.
It was Sunday, and I went slowly on my walk, considering the devotional words that I would shortly say to the assembled Scouts. In two weeks, we are headed to a Boy Scout camporee that will include 800 other Scouts, nitroglycerine demonstrations and train rides. That sort of noisy camping experience can only be had if you are a Boy Scout. But this weekend on Dietz's Pond, where we set up simple camps then quietly listened to and looked at the natural world was an experience that you too can have any day you choose. And each time you do it, you will learn something new about the outdoors and about yourself. And each time you do it, you will return refreshed to your normal everyday life.
When
was the last time that you slept out under a tarp and ate skunk
cabbage stew? |
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As
I wandered through the woods near Dietz's Pond looking for likely
campsites with the Grizzly Patrol, I was pleased to see that our
timing was perfect. The oaks, beeches and prickle bushes were just
starting to grow this year's crop of leaves, and skunk cabbages were
sprouting in every moist place in the scrubby woods that lies to the
north and east of the pond. 
With
a little searching, I found the other pair of old hands. They too
had opted to sleep under a tarp, rather than use a tent. Theirs was
a beautiful spot between two chucking brooks, and they had created a
roof shaped shelter by throwing the tarp over a line tied tightly
between two trees and then staking the corners to the ground. The
area was dotted with skunk cabbages, but as long as you didn't step
on them, they were no cause for concern. Later in the season this
place will swarm with mosquitoes, but on this day it was nearly
perfect, at least until some of the other Scouts came trooping
through and decided to squish a few of the cabbages. 
As
the boys spent the day fishing the pond, I thought ahead to dinner.
Plan A had been to cook the fish the Scouts had caught. They did
catch fish --- lots of fish.
Curt caught 19 all by himself, but they were 4 inches long on
average, and not worth the trouble of cleaning. Only Ryan caught a
good one; in fact, the biggest fish he had ever caught in his life.
This twelve incher was duly cleaned and cooked, and everyone got a
nibble to see how fresh bass tasted. Still, nothing biblical
happened, and so we had to make other arrangements for dinner. 
By
11 p.m. everyone but myself was in a tent. By midnight, they all
slept and the night was like any other in these parts. Standing in
the dark woods down near the Grizzly camp, I heard the far off bark
of dogs, the hoot of an owl, and a coughing sort of call that moved
about in the middle distance and that I could not identify.
The
Grizzly camp was quiet in the pre-dawn light. Their compact compound
seemed to have suppressed the normal activity of the woods in their
immediate vicinity. Further down the hill, the two guys in the glen
woke up to a sun dappled morning of small activities
--- bees buzzed about,
squirrels played near one stream and a deer poked around for its
breakfast. Up on the hill, a turkey was seen not ten feet from the
lean-to, and you could watch in awe as the sun slowly spread across
a landscape of lumpy Pennsylvania hills.