Derek mentioned that we would camp in all seasons with those boys. We just finished our summer camp and eager to carry on D's legacy of documenting the boys' experiences, I pulled out the flashbox and snapped a few. If for nothing else, I know D would appreciate the nostalgia.
I must say however, that camping in the summer is a whole nuther fish altogether. Aware of the minimal risk, the unthreatening weather, and the unwavering efforts of leaders to keep them well bouffed (scroll to Wed. Oct 6, 2004). The boys were now able to focus their energies towards the weightier issues..... War tactics! The inherent cravings of most men and boys.
I have never been to a paintball-less young mens camp. I've been to plenty of paintball prohibited camps but never a "paintball-less" camp. This week end was no different. 8 out of 9 of our young men either had a paintball gun or a slingshot to holster.
Operation Jackson Pollock
We camped in Low Quebec, on the east side of the Gatineau river. (boat access only) It is a piece of Hydro Quebec land leased by the church for a nominal yearly fee so our scouts could have a camping refuge. We usually camp on either the flats or Deacons island (for those who aren't familiar with Deacons island it is the one next to 4 tree island:) This time we went to "the Narrows" a lovely camping site only 40 yards accross the water from the campsite of the youth from the other ward. How fortunate for a paintball armed young mens group.
the Chapel hill ward was the lucky group to settle the adjacent capmsite. We having arrived Thursday afternoon had already made our preparations for war. Chapel hill arrived Friday evening and were greeted by a hailstorm of paintballs at various times throughout the night.
Operations Japetto and Sugar sac
Apparantly chapel hill was a little to trusting, even after Pollock. They left for the evening fireside at the flats 20 minutes early allowing time for our poised reconnaissance group to get accross the straight line their sleeping bags with sugar and fill their tents with crickets they had purchased from the pet store on the way up. I should add that at various points throughout the evening I offered slight protests but I think the boys saw right through it and somehow read them as approvals. I guess they know that I could stop them pretty quickly if I really wanted to and so they kept at it.
Operation Plastic wrap
Another crossing was made before said fireside to plastic wrap many of the openings between trees within their camp making it impossible for the campers to continue on their desired path. This plays into psychological warfare. In fact upon return we heard a chilling cry from one scouter who was scared because he couldnt get to his tent. We detected his sarcasm but the boys laughs gave me the impression that they were satisfied their scheme had proven an annoying obstacle at the least.
There were then numerous discussions about who had performed these misdeeds. Our side tried to convince them it was Gatineau young men and that they needed to return the favour. The story was not believed.
Later we celebrated the battles victory with $99.00 of fireworks.
Defense
The rest of the time was spent fortifying our campsite. Each boy had carved a pungee stick and fastened it into the ground to ward off attackers. (We had them take them down at dark) tents padlocked or zip tied, food secured and a scarecrow with a pirate shirt erected. An ill feeling anticipating retaliation was shared among the boys. Ben Collins and Jack were telling me how they would like to be compensated for their attacks. They seemed like mild punishments to me so I reminded them that Chapel hill didn't get to chose the actions taken on them and I had no sympathy for them. They made their bed and would have to undergo whatever was coming. I should admit that I myself was a little nervous as I was sleeping out under the stars in the open on a reclining lawn chair. I'm sure that in the dark anyone in a mummy bag could have been fair game as it would have been hard to distinguish the leaders from the troops.
We had also taken a crash course on triage and first aid at camp that would help us treat our wounded.
The night proved calm and there were no attacks. In fact, when I woke up at 8:00am the Chapel Hill ward had already packed and went home. Ouch! I felt bad. I think the stake president did too. He was in our camp and witnessed the whole thing. He didn't exactly dissaprove either. He chalked it up to boys being boys. Thats what boys do.
On our way out Harrison masterminded a plan to put our excess cinnamon to good use. He offered $2.00 to anyone who would eat a spoonfull. He found 2 eager hard-up-for-cash (I guess) volunteers, Brad Morrison and Matt Jose. The only way he got Matt to do it was because Matt wasn't there to witness Brad's struggle for life during the ordeal. Brad Puked, Matt didn't, both blew clouds of brown smoke out their nose with teary eyes that lasted 5 minutes.
Crossing the lake back to the farm where the cars were parked the wind had picked up and the waves were choppy. This had me a bit nervous as the transport boat was a 14 foot shallow widowmaker of a tin boat. But what would be a war without an element of risk.
Other stories of interest.
The Burned shoe
Jack (Katie Kirk's brother from England) had noticed that his sandals had been taken accross the lake on the first boatload home and he was left with his old shoes. The problem: his socks were with his sandals and he didn't want to wear shoes without socks. So he did what any of us right minded men would do -he burned his shoes. This decision was probably easier made after thinking about having to bring the wet smelly things back on the plane with him. The smoke stunk.
The Plot to Throw Brad in the Water
Brad had hit many of his own comerades point blank with paintballs throughout the week-end. He had also done a couple other not so friendly things to friends. This had Ben Jeffrey plotting with everone to throw Brad in the water before we left. Brad caught wind of this and threw a Survivor type manuever into the mix. He turned the plan around and in the end when I snapped the photo, Ben was the one getting dunked. Oh the injustice. I had to make things right. I threw Brad in too. Just so he wouldn't think I didn't like him (but I do like him) I blamed it on his inadvertantly throwing my back pack into a meadow muffin (cow patty) while helping out.
Good times
1 comment:
Nice write-up, man. You crazy guys and your paintballs. I was always terrible with a slingshot, so I found excuses to chop wood or tan animal hides whenever I heard rumours of war in the air.
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