Tag: bog

Camp Memories

By Mitchell Slepian

 

BlowhornNew Type Layer copy
Blowhorn Rock, Chappy

 

 

I recently spent five days in the place I called home as a teenager – Ten Mile River Scout Camps. It was a phenomenal experience. I saw people I haven’t since the 80s.

We went to the remains of our favorite sites: Chappegat Hill, Kunatah, Picture Window, and Indian Cliffs. I can safely say for myself and the rest of the gang I was with, those sites will always be holy to us. Most of them are no longer operational. Being there flashed us back to our youth. That’s when the trails were teeming with scouts climbing the trail to Eagle.

While in camp, I spoke to current staff and campers. I relayed what we did. Bear in mind, this is when the whole world was not striving to be 100 percent politically correct. We were boys being boys. We wore our scout uniforms, Champion tee and sweatshirts, OP shorts, Gotchas, and other 80s fashion. We blasted Squeeze’s “Pulling Mussel’s from the Shell” out of our leantos. If we won our competitions, earned our merit badges we got to go to Carousel Park, Beach Lake, Pa. and ride go karts and dune buggies. We got to eat the “red sauce” in the now closed El Monaco’s, White Lake, N.Y.

We gave each other nicknames. They were based on how we looked, acted, and smelled. Some kids never showered. I’m sure that’s still the case. We roughed it. We threw each other out of canoes. No one ever got hurt. We all knew how to swim. In the middle of the night, we raided each other. We had food fights.

We had a five-seater tip pan latrine (the willy). Everyone sat down together to go. We played baseball in the willy. Scoring was based on what we produced… We took ice cold showers. That’s until we “housed” a hot water heater from an abandoned site. We ate gross camp food. Thankfully they still do.

Kids that misbehaved in the dining hall were “nuked”. They had to scrub the place after the meal or wash pots when we concluded our weekend BBQs. Some scouts spent all Saturday night at the willy’s sink scrubbing. As a camper and staff member, I dished out and suffered the punishment.

On our canoe trips, as we paddled down the Delaware River, we loaded up our canoes with dead fish. At different points, we bashed each other over the head with the fish. I still long for a dead fish fight.

While I was sitting in the new Keowa Dining Hall, I spoke about these memories with those around me. Their jaws dropped wide open. No one could believe me. Some were grossed out. I guess dead fish fights and old school willys don’t appeal to all. These days, the camp has flush toilets and traditional showers. I’ve heard their canoe trips are more traditional.

These days, the scouts have fun. Lots of fun. It is a little different. But it is their fun.   They are creating memories. They are soaring to the rank of Eagle Scout. Whose memories are the best? That is in the eye of the beholder. One day, these scouts will come to alumni events and tell their stories to the young staff and scouts. I’m sure things will have changed during that course of time. How much? Time will tell.

 

Camp

Today, I spent the day at the American Museum of Natural History (AMHN). I got there at about 1:00 p.m. There were tons of camp groups wandering through the museum. I knew this would happen. This would piss off some museum-goers. But I loved it.

I wandered through the mammal’s wing. A bunch of kids stood in front of the wolves. They shrieked, “Wolf”. They all tapped on the glass and yelled, “You can’t get me”. They all smiled and went to the next exhibit.

Most of these kids were day campers. I did see a group wearing t-shirts that said their camp hailed from the “Old Dominion” state. Maybe they were on a trip into the City that Never Sleeps.

I too went to camp. Camp Chappegat (aka “Chappy Hill), part of Ten Mile River Scouts Camps, located in Narrowsburg, N.Y.   Mine was a summer camp. I lived there for many weeks during my summer. It was the greatest experience of my life. Nothing can replace it. I was 12 when arrived on the Hill. Sometimes I still feel like I am 12, and on the Hill. I made more lifelong friends than I can ever count. I still speak to dozens of them every day.

So while these kids in the AMNH were on a camp field trip, I thought back to the trips we took. We went on many. Yeah, we went to Hall of Fame in Cooperstown to pay our respects to the team that the building was built for, the 27-Time World Champions. We went to Callicoon to bowl. We went to Action Park. I fell off the Alpine Slide. It was painful. And, who can forget our, Super Week banquet in El Monaco’s? Man how I miss the red sauce.

We enjoyed these trips. But I must say and I surely hope my fellow “Scouuuuuuts” will agree that our best trips were the ones we did right in the vicinity of our blessed camp.

We had bog hikes. What could be more fun than playing in a bog? We went to Father Meyers Swimming Hole. It had a giant tree with a rope tied around it. We climbed up the tree and grabbed the rope. We swung on it until we fell into the swimming hole. We swam around a little and climbed right back up our tree.

On Saturdays, we had leanto inspections and hiked out to Bob Landers. Most of us had the two hamburgers, fries, and soft drink special. Then we hiked to the Delaware and Ten Mile Rivers to swim. We hiked back up to our beloved hill. We had a great BBQ and then our famous campfires. We had skits that would have won more Tony’s than any Broadway drama or musical. We were that talented.

TMR is huge. We went on many hikes. My favorites were lead by an alumnus. He used to come up and stay on the Hill each summer for about three weeks. He used to teach me all sorts of things about the camp. He became my mentor. I still consider him my leader.

He would take us to D-1. His camp. On the way, he would point out historic sites, the dining hall, old cabins, and other stuff. Sadly, None of these buildings remain.  One was actually moved to our Camp Museum in headquarters. He took us to the “Asshole”.

The Asshole is two large rocks with openings that resemble, the aforementioned. I visited about three summers ago. It is still there.

We went on other great trips in camp. We went to the old saw mill, we hiked through closed down sites and dreamed of what went on there.

Sadly, camp Chappy closed after 1988. But every day, especially during the summer, I still dream about the fun we had there. Oh Chappy, boy do I miss you.

I would love to carry a scouuuuuuts’ trunk up the hill.

CH CH CH AP AP AP EG EG EG AT, Chappegat, Chappegat, Yeah Chappegat.