The good, the bad, and the smelly Little do many people know that a long long time ago in a place not so far away, I was a boyscout. I started as a kid and was in “Den 7” and slowly through the years I crossed over into boy scouting. I went through all the ranks and all the summer camps and even all of the outings. Toward the end of my scouting career I really grew to hate the program, I never thought it was “cool” to be a boy scout but with high school right around the corner I figured I was absolutely done. After my mom forced me to get my Eagle (the highest rank in scouting) I thought I was ready to retire the sash, but my mom had one more trick up her sleeve…
I learned I was going to philmont about a month before school ended. For those who don't know, philmont is a “high adventure” boy scout camp, and when you go there you put all of your belongings on your back and hike a route that your crew created, occasionally stopping at various outposts. At first I was very reluctant to go, but then after talking to my friends and discussing how fun it could be I decided what the heck. Me and my 6 man crew, 10 if you count the parents, planned our hike and then went
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When we got back into camp we were debriefed and assigned to the part of the camp where the crews that had finished slept. The last night at the camp was a good one, we headed into the small town 15 minutes away from the camp and I ordered a huge pizza and stuffed my face. Once we got back to the camp there was a closing ceremony that involved a lot of indian and scouting hokus pokus that I didn't care for, all I could think about was how I was going to be headed home in less than 12 hours. After about 2 hours of speeches and stories it was finally time for bed, and for once in my life I was ready to get up early and start the