We talked to the scouts in our troop and asked them where they wanted to go for our last camping trip before school started.
“I want to go where we won’t run into other people,” Mort said. “There is nothing like trying to get away from it all, in the woods or somewhere, only to find that it all followed you.”
I had to laugh at his comment. We lived in a rural community, far from any big population center, so I’m not sure who we were getting away from. I always thought of our campouts as getting away from life’s work, rather than from people.
Sam nodded his agreement to what Mort said. “Let’s go way out in the middle of nowhere. With school starting, we will not be able to go as far for campouts.”
The boys all agreed, so I turned to Rod, my assistant. “Well, Rod, can you think of a good place that is in the middle of nowhere?”
Rod smiled. “I know just the place: Pack Saddle Lake. It’s called that because the only way in is to pack in. Even though some roads might get you close, they’re often washed out. But it also means everyone better be up for a hike.”
The boys all felt they were, so we set the date for the next week, Thursday through Saturday. We then planned menus and made sure everyone knew what gear to bring.
The following week, out of eighteen boys, sixteen showed up. We drove to the closest point we could get to the lake, and as Rod said, the roads were washed out from there. We still had a couple of miles up over a fairly steep hill from that point.
We shouldered our packs and started the trek. Two miles wasn’t a great distance, but with the steep terrain, some boys tired quickly. I added Sam’s pack to mine for a while. When he was rested and took it back, I took someone else’s. We continued on that way until we came to the ridge looking into the lake. That seemed to energize everyone, and all took their own packs.
It was midafternoon, so, after tents were set up, the boys went swimming and fishing. There was a rope swing that went out over the lake. Everyone had to try it, even me. Soon, it was getting toward evening, so I worked with the boys who were in charge of dinner.
After a good meal, as we watched the fire flicker under the starlit sky, Gordy said, “It sure is nice being where no one will bother us.”
After a few ghost stories and other tales, we retired to our beds, and the boys soon dropped off to sleep. Rod and I were just going to sleep when voices woke us. We sat up and listened, wondering if some of our boys were trying to play some pranks. But then we realized there were lots of young voices, and some of them were girls.
“The nice thing about this place,” one boy said, “is that we have it all to ourselves. We can have some real fun.”
“It was sure a rotten hike using just flashlights, though,” a girl said.
“But now, let’s go swimming and have an exciting time,” another boy said.
Rod and I had made the decision not to disturb them and let them think they were alone. That is, we did until they said something that made us realize their fun included skinny dipping. We thought it might not be good if our boys woke up and got more than they expected.
Rod and I stepped out of the tent as the splashing and giggling reached a crescendo. Then Rod said, “Howdy! I guess you all came in from the south trail.”
Suddenly, there was a lot of screaming, brush crashing, and a lot more full moons appearing in the night. In just a few minutes, all was quiet.
We decided not to tell the boys about it. But the next morning, as Gordy came wandering out for hot chocolate, he said, “I love the peacefulness of being alone in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah,” Mort said, “but I had the strangest dream that a screaming crowd came here.”
Gordy laughed. “It’s good it was only in your dream.”
