Voyageur: The Good, The Bad, and the Denver Omlette - Part 1: Camp School

ed. note - the following post was originally part of a much larger one, we've split them up into separate parts so they don't bore you.

It really all begins at camp school, but for me it began a bit earlier than that.  First there was the hour long phone call with Ken Smith, who told me he and his wife worked at a boys' camp in the Adirondacks and were looking for guides.  I was at college at the time and President of the Outdoor Adventure Club, so this sounded like a good gig.  Luckily I had been a Boy Scout all my life; I can only imagine the surprise from people who went through this "interview" process, accepted the job, and then found out it was a Boy Scout camp when they received their contract.  Ken could be really persuasive on the phone.  I later found out he called  every college in NY State looking to be put into contact with their outdoor club leader.  He was a real trooper!

My Mom (yes, my Mom) drove me up to the camp office in Westchester, where I met BJ (ed. note - unless they've given us permission to throw their name in here, the Voyageur and I are going with initials, this one is a bit unfortunate) and Big Bird.  He drove us the 4 + hours up to the Adirondacks and Curtis Read Scout Reservation where I quickly learned that you lift your feet up when going over the Troll Bridge and dark is dark.  I stayed in the Nature Lodge that night and being far removed from the comforts of home it was pitch black when the lights went out and I'll admit to being a bit scared.  The next morning I met Toph, and Ranger Bob and a few others.  Toph would be driving us to Camp School in the green army sedan.  That thing was so old it looked like something you would have seen on MASH.  Ranger Bob was Ranger Bob and I regret that my first year I did not give him the respect he so deserved.  I was a little arrogant back then.  My first interaction with Bob was sausages.  It's what he served up for breakfast.  There was also coffee and eggs, but sausages were really what he was pushing as the best and perhaps only food for you.  He ate a ton and kept exhorting us to eat more as well.  

Then it was off to camp school.  Another hour or so through the Adirondacks to another Scout Camp that was hosting camp school.  The peculiarities of camp school have already been documented, but needless to say it was full of quirks.  The Voyageur section had been set up because Boy Scouts had been traipsing around the Adirondacks for quite a while causing damage, harm, litter, etc.  A week's worth of training was supposed to help cure that.  We would be licensed to lead Boy Scouts in the Adirondacks (a state park) but could not professionally guide others through the park.

I recall 2 1/2 days of lecture on wilderness survival, first aid, orienteering, paddling a canoe, leadership philosophy, cooking, swimming, lifesaving, setting up tents, etc.  Anyone who was sent to Voyageur training was supposed to be well versed in most if not all of these topics.  I did not do particularly well on the initial solo canoe test, but otherwise felt up to par.  It was clear there were quite a few though who were sent by their camp with the hopes they would pass, but without any experience or prior knowledge in the outdoors.  People who seemed baffled at how to set up a tent, enter a canoe, put on a life vest, make a splint, etc.  It was really quite comical, because if they failed -  and some did - their camp lost the investment of sending someone to camp school, and had to look for a new guide to hire without much time at all before the season started.  

After that it was on to mini-trek.  We got to spend 3 days and 2 nights in the wilderness putting to use what we had learned during the lecture time.  This was really cool and helped add to my arrogance.  While everyone else was still stuck in camp, wearing uniforms, attending meals singing songs designed for 12 year old boys and sweating in those damned red-topped green socks, we were canoeing and hiking around the Adirondacks.  This was a lot of fun and I thought I was doing a good job.  When I got my evaluation however I got slammed.  Unless all Voyageurs are horrible guides, I have gotten the impression over the years that most are rated kinda low on their initial evaluation, kinda to knock us down a peg.  Anyway I passed, but I remember being taken to task for going exploring of a little inlet when I was supposed to be "leader for the 1/2 day."  There were two other canoes of Voyageur candidates all over the age of 21 and our instructors in another canoe.  I just wasn't seriously taking the idea that I had to do much to be a leader on a flat pond in this instance.  So my partner and I explored a little inlet and were a few feet out of sight of everyone.  I got slammed for that.  Oh well, turns out I was a pretty awesome guide (and that's not arrogance, that's all the ratings I received from my trek groups).  

So I passed, but didn't pass.  I had not yet done my 1/2 mile swim or American Red Cross Standard First Aid.  So on Saturday morning at 4 am all Voyageur candidates were woken up by clanging pots and pans and marched around a lake to a campfire and a ceremony, which was kinda cool - especially since I had not been drinking the night before, otherwise it could have been ugly.  I was asked to stand aside at the ceremony and was next to the two guys who were not going to graduate.  The leader made a comment about some of us passing, but not completing our other requirements (me) but I think everyone looked at the three of us and assumed we all hadn't made it.

I'll never forget the ride back to camp.  Toph had gone for camp director or something and BJ and I had been in Voyageur training.  It was only early June but we had had several days of 90 + weather and rain and we stunk.  No showers for a week and, except on trek, the same unflattering Summer Scout uniform.  Including the red-topped,  green, knee-high socks.  Ours were so stinky and full of sweat and muddy rain water that we held them out the window of the green army sedan and closed the window so that only the tops were inside and the rest were outside.  I can imagine the sight of us cruising down route 28 and Interstate 87 in a green army sedan with 3 pairs of socks flapping out the window.  

Epilogue:  The Voyageur and I will write about how easy it was to pass Standard First Aid later, but I got my half mile swim done being followed in a rowboat by a lifeguard; she was also director of the horse program and also showed me that Boy Scout camp did not mean you couldn't find a girlfriend if you tried.