Cosmo Kramer
To quote the great Neil Diamond, "Where it all began, I can't begin to knowing"
I don't know exactly when I met the load. We both started on staff in 1993, but we definitely did not run in the same circles then. He was a bit older than me. (I suppose he still is). When you are in your teens, a few years age difference is a big deal. It is the difference between being able to drink or able to drive etc, doing both at the same time is frowned upon, at any age. Also, I worked at Camp Buckskin while he worked at Summit Base.
Even though the summit staff was very small in 1993, they knew how to party. Most of the staff who worked at either of the other two camps on the reservation lived in tents. Unfortunately they did not look like this:
They were functional for the most part, even though they may have leaked, you tended to learn where the leak was and just move most of your belongings out of the way. Summit staff had two full on buildings that they lived in. The rock house was a small cottage like structure. Upon entering, you walked through a narrow hallway. To the right, was the "living room", there was an old couch a couple of other chairs, a dartboard and all sorts of pieces of wood that had been drilled into the wall to practice climbing. On the left was the living quarters. Basically a bunch of cots a few old dressers and the like. There was a loft as well. It was pretty small, just room for a couple of cots. Finally, there was a bathroom with indoor plumbing and a shower. We often joked that we cleaned ourselves in the dirtiest room in the house. It really was right on the verge of collapse, the handle for the hot water for the shower broke off and was simply replaced with a vice grip. Not as an interim fix, but as a permanent fix.
The other permanent structure was the "Voyageur Cabin", supposedly named because the voyageurs or guides slept there. It was an even simpler structure, an A-frame structure with just one big room. There was electricity, but no plumbing or other amenities. The circuit breakers for the Voyageur cabin were located in the Rock House because building codes were pretty much ignored. The two buildings were probably about 150 feet apart. It was always a fun prank to cut off the power to the voyageur cabin while in the rock house.
The advantage of these structures was that you could shut the door, which you really cannot do with a tent. Consequently, these buildings lent themselves quite well to parties. Nevertheless, I was never really invited or felt comfortable going up there my first year. Perhaps it was my second year, while still working at Buckskin that I ventured up there a few times. That year, the summit staff had expanded and there were a couple of guys my age who worked up there. At some point, I must have talked to the load, even though he wasn't yet known as the load. We had a lot in common. Both of us had English parents, we shared a love for Monty Python and other absurd comedies, and he was just a real nice guy.
The following summer, 1995, marked a turning point. I had started the summer as the provisional troop assistant scout master. Most scouts came to camp with their home troop, but some wanted to come to camp either for an extra week or without their troop. These scouts formed what was called a provisional troop, and I was the assistant scout master. My duties were pretty easy, just ensuring there was some adult supervision. During the day, the scouts would all be off doing merit badges or other activities, so I had limitless free time. I spent most of my time up at Summit Base, helping out on different events. Even though I was still part of Buckskin staff, I definitely considered myself part of Summit. Then, a wonderful thing happened, at least for me. One of the guides got sick. The rumor I heard was that it was venereal disease, so of course I will repeat it here as if it were incontrovertible proof. They needed another guide. Because I had been defacto working at Summit by this point, I was offered the position. Needless to say I jumped at it. I wrote a post about this a little while back.
It was none other than the load who gave me a crash course in guiding. I am pretty sure we drank a few beers, climbed Mt. Stevens, promptly fell asleep and then he showed me how to cook the typical trek meals. On trek, we mostly ate freeze dried food. The big advantage was that the food was dehydrated, so it was quite light. It tasted like shit, but it was light. Preparing the meals was easy, you would boil some water so it was purified, and then dump the contents into the boiling water. Stir, and eat. The breakfasts, in particular were awful. So load and I cooked up a batch of freeze dried eggs, just so that I could learn to use the stove and how the meals worked. I think we scattered most of the eggs all over the mountain, they were that bad.
The load was a damn good guide, and I learned a lot from him. For the next few years, we liked to joke that I followed in his footsteps. He had gone to the University of Buffalo, and I went there. There used to be a catwalk that runs to the scoreboard in the basketball stadium. The catwalk is probably about 80 feet or so above the ground. He and I both rappelled off that catwalk.
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| There is no catwalk any more, apparently, but this pic gives you an idea, we both rappelled down from the height of the scoreboard to the ground. Strictly forbidden, of course.
Both of us really loved our time at camp, and we began to keep in touch in what the load refers to as the off season. The load even spent considerable time and effort printing out a summit newsletter that he mailed to all of us. This was before the days of e-mail, so it was a full 8 pages of what everyone was up to. I really wish I had kept them, it was the kind of thing that you didn't realize was a treasure at the time.
More importantly, he was there for me when I needed a friend and a mentor. Load and I never had a great deal of money in those days, but the little that load had, he shared without question. One winter, he invited me up for a New Years eve party a friend of his was having at Stratton. This was fancy, a condo right on the side of the mountain, and a bunch of people that the load knew. He included me though. Even though I didn't know anyone else there, I had a blast because the load made sure that I did. Neither of us had enough money to ski after the first day, so we went to camp (naturally) and climbed Mt. Stevens in the snow. We also did some ice climbing right off the highway. Literally, we pulled our vehicle to the shoulder, walked about 15 feet and started climbing some rocks that had no doubt been blasted away when the highway was first built. The best part about this party was that there was a lot of beer left over at the end, since I was under 21, everyone unanimously agreed that I should take it all. I had a full trunk.
He was the best man at my wedding, and I didn't quite return the favor in choosing my +1 for his. He is one of the few people I still keep in regular contact with. Maybe that is why I remember camp so fondly, because of the friendships that were forged.
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