Shooting Sports at Camp!

Our Fearless Leader shooting Skeet with the 12 gauge!

These are the kind of scores that will earn you a merit badge!

The adult shooting competition:

They have no Idea how dangerous this could be!

• Archery
• .22 Cal rifle
• .50 Cal Black Powder
• Skeet with shotgun

And the winner is Mr. Bill Redmond ( by 1/4 point over Mr. Adams)!

GREAT CAMP QUOTES FROM TROOP 617

*************************************************************************

"Good Morning, Camp!" "Good Morning, Josh!" "Way-OH! Way-OH!" "Can we make a fire now?" "I don't need your pessimism." "Where are my shoes?" "Let's play Mafia!" "Can I borrow your knife?" "Can I borrow your fishing pole?" "Who has my knife sharpener?" "I lost the game!" "Only a mom would wear a white sweater to summer camp." "I wanna go home." "What day is it?"

"Who wants to go to the Trading Post with me?"

"How many days are you going to wear those pants?"

"How did you sleep?"

"Palmer looks just like an otter."

"Nuh-uh, he's more like a little puppy."

"No, he's a teddy bear."

"NO! He's more like a SUN bear, look at him!

"Let me see your face, Palmer. ...I'm telling you, he looks just like an otter."

"Eeeww! There's a LOG in the urinal!"

"This would make a great beating stick!"

"Can I sleep in your tent?"

"Where's Mr Redmond? I think he's napping in the stream."

"Dude! You're such a girl!"

"I've always looked down upon you, and I always will."

"Did you guys know the tooth brush was invented in Ramona? If it had been anywhere else, it would have been called a teeth brush."

"That's a good one, I'm gunna go home and tell that one to my sheep."

"That dinner was so good, I think I'll purge and go for thirds!"

"What are you whittling? A stick."

"Ok, I'll just beat the tree while I wait."

"I already showered once!"

"Why would you shower at camp when you can shower at home?!"

"SKIMMERHORN!!!"

"Jokes on you, I have 2 dads!"

"Come on guys, no more racist jokes! ... (unless their good)"

"What is that you're using for your crossbow string?"

"My underwear band... what? it's clean!!"

"Where are you going?"

"To the Operacade."

"Ummm... it's the Aquacade."

"Oh -- that changes everything."

"Mrs Redmond! You can put on the blog that we started a Ninja craze at the flag pole!"

"You didn't adopt me, you abducted me!"

"Palmer's so CUTE!!"

Home for the week!
The Swim Test

Oh No!
The Deep, Dark Lake Water.... Maybe later... Or not!

The only thing  Scaryier than the Swim Test!

BOAT RACING!

Cheers, laughter and the refreshing sounds of the boys' splashing in the stream rolled up and over the embankment below our campsite. I grabbed my camera and ventured down into the cool, dark canopy of pines and alders that grew along the waterline.

Our boys had created two "whitewater" racing channels out of river rocks and fallen branches. Andrew D held between his fingers miniature boats whittled from small twigs.

"3 - 2 - 1 - Launch!", came the cry. Into the stream the vessels went, tossling along in the water, bumping and bouncing their way downstream.

"Man down!" A boat had submerged in the "rapids", only to resurface a few moments later. Rocks, pockets, branches and other natural obstacles made the race as exciting as any professional speed boat race. "Slash! Sploosh!" The boys tromped downstream, one after the other, each clumsily chasing his hand-carved masterpiece.

"Can I race?" I wanted to join the fun.

"Sure, you just need to carve a boat."

"Can you float my feather?" I had just spent the afternoon lazily whittling a neckerchief slide from a balsa wood kit.

"Wow! Did you do that?!" Andrew A was impressed. "Mrs Redmond's boat is EPIC!"

Ever the encourager, Zach grunted, "You have to have a captain."

Each boy had painstakingly hollowed out little holes in the top and plugged in tiny stick "captains."

"My captain is in his cabin." I turned my feather over to reveal the bulky squared off ring for the neckerchief.

I took their laughter for a yes, as Andrew D reached his fingers toward me. I slipped my feather boat into it's "launch" and down they went.

"Splash! Sploosh!" The noise and cheering got my adrenalin going, but I couldn't see anything past the crowd of boys schlomping along in the water.

"Hey! You won! Mrs Redmond won!" I was tickled to hear Andrew A's acclaim for the second time, "Mrs Redmond's boat is EPIC!"

As any mom can imagine, a million bucks and a golden trophy couldn't have meant more to me. In that moment of fleeting glory, I belonged...

KISS THE DUCK! KISS THE DUCK!

Mr Redmond had carved a duck head at the top of his walking stick and was poking Zach's face from 3 feet away. Zach was ignoring him, obviously hoping he'd go away.

"Zach! (quack quack) Kiss my duck!" Zach glared at him.

"Zach, just kiss the duck", David chimed in.

Soon the chant began, "Kiss the duck! Kiss the duck! Kiss the duck!"

Zach realized he wasn't going to get out of it, so he better be a good sport. He suddently chomped on the duck's bill and locked his jaw.

"HEY! Leggo my duck!" His dad was taken by surprise as the joke turned on him. He sulked away with his masterpiece.

By the time the duck saw the light of day again, it was a beautifully carved and painted walking stick, presented to me as a gift, representing as many camp memories as a duck can carry. Ooohs and awws filled the campsite as he approached me...

I was so touched by his creative and skilled handiwork! But the sentimental moment flashed passed me as the chant sprang up again, "Kiss the duck! Kiss the duck!"

MAFIA AGAIN?

them: "Let's play Mafia!"

me: "Mafia AGAIN?!"

them: "Ya, we like Mafia."

me: "Don't you know any other games?"

them: silence...

finally: "Let's play Stealth!"

me: "How do you play?"

them: "Everybody scatters and tries to make their way back to the campfire without being tagged."

me: "In the dark?"

them: "YA! It's really fun."

me: "no flashlights?"

them: "YA! You gotta get back and tag base without getting caught."

me: "What's base?"

them: "The campfire."

me: "You scatter around the campsite in the dark, run around tagging each other in the dark, and then you have to "TAG" the campfire?"

them: "Ya, well I guess we can't REALLY tag the campfire."

me: "Hhmmm. And I have to get up?"

them: "Well, you could be IT."

me: "Do I have to get up?"

them: silence...

them: "Let's just play MAFIA!"

BREAKFAST CONVERSATION...

David: "Hey Zach! You missed it last night! Your mom was such a dictator! We started calling her Hitler!"

Zach: "I didn't miss anything. I live with her."

Mom: "Now that's not fair. You know I always give you a choice:

1) do it

or 2) else"

YOU KNOW YOU ARE AT SUMMER CAMP WHEN...

• you're having lunch with 300 of your closest uniformed friends.
• silly people run around campfires doing silly skits.
• your butt touches the floor when you sit on your cot.
• you find yourself singing Fred the Moose for the 3rd time in 3 days.
• every afternoon you hear the sound of gun shots echoing around the hillsides, and no one's worried.
• Jay walks around the campfire at night in his pjs, barefoot.
• you're served red punch at every meal, including breakfast.
• the "Dining Hall" looks an awful lot like a "Big Top" tent.
• the SPL threatens to deck a kid and the counselor is ok with it.
• little kids think they know more about shotguns than the counselors.
• you're sitting around the campfire and Mr Adams is farting.

            (In my defense, it was "Taco Night", which included a large helping of Refried beans and I do recall

             saying "Excuse Me" !)

• you get into arguments with other kids about star wars, and which little kid TV show is best.
• you're surrounded by red-striped socks.
• everyone around you has gone 3 days without showering and the smell is overwhelming.

You know you're at a pretty darn good Summer Camp when...

• you get to use a toilet that flushes at some point during the day.
• you're not sleeping "down hill."
• you get a FRESH salad bar with both lunch and dinner EVERY NIGHT!

• you have your choice of water: fresh water, light water, low fat water, diet water, city water, well water, mountain water, spring water, zero water, I can't believe it's not water, spit, sweat or "other"
  
  

You know you're at a luxury Summer Camp when...

• the toilet comes with two mirrors and a HOT shower.
• there are no flies in the mess hall (there MUST be SOME camp like that SOMEwhere... I vote we book one of those as soon as we get back!) :)

THE BEST SCOUTS AROUND!

I find myself saying that over and over. The more I'm around other troops, the prouder I am of our boys. We have our troubles and recurring issues, I am full aware. But over all, our boys are respectful, welcoming, amiable and responsible.

When they are asked to clean tables, they actually wipe them down with soapy water as they're told, instead of swiping the food to the ground and calling it "clean."

They line up at the flag poles instead of straggling in late and looking like a scruffy mob.

The youngers almost instantly belong, and are taught the "rules" by example instead of being ordered around and barked at.

We even have boys who will sweep out a tent without being told, and work together to move a campfire stone by stone, without complaint.

I'm telling you, we have the BEST Scouts around!

First Aid, First Day!

Mr Finley was breaking into the troop first aid kit, asking Mr Adams what he needed.

Mrs Red: "YES! Mr Adams got a camp wound! Tell me the story!"

Mr Adams: "Oh it's nothing, really."

Mrs Red: "No, you don't understand... I need to blog about this. Everything is a story to tell!"

Mr Adams: "No, really. It's nothing. There IS no story to tell."

Mrs Red: "NO, REALLY! EVERYthing is a story to tell. PLEASE..."

Mr Adams: "Ok. I scratched myself last week at home, and I broke it open just now."

Mrs Red: "oh. you're right. that won't due."

Mr Finley: "He's being modest. The truth is, he's a hero! He had a run-in with a rattler, and got snagged by a fang. He actually saved 3 kids in the process, he's quite the hero!"

Mrs Red: "Now THAT'S a story!"

and so I'm blogging about it...