June too soon, July flies by

Already it is July and the first part of summer is over. With the end of June, my son and I find ourselves home again after a week of camping in the searing heat of Boy Scout camp, this one located west of Ft. Worth, Texas by about 60 miles. I have to say this was one of the most miserable camps I have been to, mostly due to the weather (101-103 every afternoon), the terrain (up or down with hernia hill thrown in), the fire ants, the one hole latrine shared by 35 men and not too clean (women’s rest room 1/2 mile away up hill through the trees) and the very bad food consisting mostly of starchy foods and beef, of which I can eat neither. Even the meat/pasta/bread eaters said it was bad. The first night had some of them throwing up. YUCK! The camp program, classes and attitudes were great though and most of the boys had a great time. The staff were great too. I’ve been to over 1/2 dozen of these week long camps and just don’t remember it being this bad. Last year, in particular, was so fantastic as we rode horseback into the wilderness of the Davis mountains and slept on the ground for a week with only a ground tarp, blanket, personal items to fill one small saddle bag, the clothes on our back and a couple water bottles. Maybe I’m just getting old. But I’m glad we went as my son got his coveted Certified Life Guard & CPR credentials. It was tough and I am proud of him. as usual, I spent most of my time helping at the gun range. But that’s another story….

Fire Works – Bottle Rocket Wars

When I was a teen, one of the rites we had on the 4th of July weekend was to stage Bottle Rocket Wars. We would drive down to a nearby creek (line Creek park) near Riverside, Missouri. Dozens of teens would gather at the park, families too, to have traditional picnics, frisbie games and more. Those of us who were brave would go over to the creek and choose sides. The creek was always deep and free flowing on the drop off side of the ‘car wash’ – which was a gravel bed that you could drive across to reach the other side. Once on our sides, we would fire up our punks or cigarettes, grab an empty coke bottle or can, and proceed to shoot bottle rockets at the other group across the creek. Those who were the elite group would shoot them out of their bare hands. Flinging them in the air sometimes got you great altitude and more distance, but also they could backfire on you and turn tail and head right back at you. If you were ‘hit’ – you just fell in the creek. Sometimes, you just fell in the creek because the water felt so good.

Another thing we would do (please don’t try this at home!) would be to build a big bonfire. When the flames were roaring, we would hole out a circle in the middle. If we had brought an old oatmeal container, we would carefully line a couple dozen of the rockets on the outer edges, being sure the wicks were hanging on the outside. Sometimes we just stuck them in a can. Then we would walk over to the fire, carefully put the can into the middle hole – and run! Rockets would shoot out in every directions, sometimes only one or two to begin with – sometimes all at once. And of course, the braves ones were the ones who stood closest to the fire – and broke to run last.

Amazingly, we never started any fires or got seriously burned. Yes, I’ll admit we were pretty stupid, but it was so much fun! I don’t let my son shoot off bottle rockets now, but he longs to try it, especially after hearing all the stories.