This is the reflective essay I needed to write for English class. Normally I wouldn't post papers here but this one is sort of a personal narrative. I'm going to claim it's a great piece of writing and I know it doesn't get everything across that I wanted to, but I think it has a few moments that just click.

When I first visited Many Point Scout Camp in northern Minnesota, it was a new experience. Previously the only camping trips I had gone on had been weekend trips. This was my first time at a weeklong resident camp.

The journey to camp started off at the school where my Boy Scout troop has its Monday night meetings. We met early on Sunday morning. Parents came to drop off their sons and to give them a final farewell. Most of the boys were camping veterans; this would be their third or fourth trip. For my patrol, the Chiefs, this was our first trip. After all the troop gear was loaded and final good byes said the troop caravan rolled out.

Once we got to the front entrance of the camp, I got my first impression of the camp. We entered the forest, which would be our home for the next week. The forest was populated mostly by oak. Tall and majestic, the trees’ green leafy foliage towered above our caravan. Interspersed throughout the oak were graceful birch and sturdy pine. There were also a whole host of other trees, which I couldn’t identify. As light filtered through the tree top canopy, it created intricate patterns upon the dirt road. It felt as if we had entered into another world.

Eventually the forest pulled back and we drove into a parking lot. On one side scouts were playing. Parking on to the other side, everyone climbed out of the cars. As we stood around stretching our legs, a tall lanky staff member ran up to us, yelling, “Come on! Let’s go play a fun game!”

My patrol was ready to run over and play, but the older boys weren’t nearly as enthusiastic. We eventually joined in the games they were playing, until one of the adult leaders came and told us it was time to go. Climbing back into the cars, we started moving again. Right away we drove past the camp’s fire tower, almost one hundred feet tall; it dwarfed all the nearby trees. Thin spidery metal legs supported a dull red box at the very top. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stop to climb to the top.

The further we drove into the camp, the more the forest changed. Gone were the majestic oaks and in their place birch had become the common tree. Eventually we got to a “T” in the road. Turning, we drove along the road that would take us to Voyager, the sub-camp where our troop was staying. As we drove the trees pulled back and we could see a small bay. Floating out on the blue water were two large rafts. Soon the forest sprung up again and our view of the lake was obscured as the shore turned away from the road. Turning off the main road we finally got to the camp site.

Getting out of the car and walking into the camp site, I could see that our site was next to a lake. A call from another troop member brought me back to reality, “Come help unload the cars.”

With the cars unloaded and headed back to the parking lot, the troop assembled in front of the flag pole. Ryan, our leader who towered over all but the oldest scouts, turned to face the troop, “All right gentlemen, this is the plan. We need to get the patrol sites and some tents set up. Then we have to get changed into our swim suits for the swim quals. Let’s get to work.”

Grabbing a tent, Chris, one of our patrol’s mentors, yelled, “Come on Chiefs, Alex and I will show you how to set up one of these.”

Set up went fairly quick. Almost all of the tents were pitched. We also arranged the patrol site. The patrol box with the cooking gear sat next to a tree with the stove next to it. In front of that sat the two tables and overhead hung the green canvas rain fly.

Assembling by the fire pit, the whole troop started walking to the beach. As we walked I could see dark clouds slowly rolling in. As we got closer to the beach my initial excitement began to subside as a knot formed in my stomach. After the beach director gave his talk about the beach rules and the three swimming skill levels, everyone went and lined up along the shore to take the swim test. The swim test was important because it would allow us to use the many different boats that the camp owned. One by one everyone made their way out to the docks as staff members called them. I was one of the last people in line; by the time I got out to the dock I was terrified.

“Hi, I’m Ben, what’s your name? What test are you going to be taking today?”

“The beginners test.”

“Then, jump in right here.”

As I waded out of the water, headed hung dejectedly, Ben called out, “You’re going to be a learner. Don’t worry about it, though. If you come down here during instructional swim, you’ll be a swimmer in no time.

By the time we got back to the camp site it had started to rain. Scurrying around the camp site, fellow troop members pulled their gear into the tents that had already been pitched. Although the rain had stopped by the time we had supper, the dark clouds remained overhead. After supper we finished setting up the camp. Cots were put together, sleeping bags unrolled and mosquito netting hung.

Later that evening the troop hiked up to the big staff camp fire. When we got there, all the benches were filled so we ended up sitting on the steps that led down to the campfire ring. About halfway through the evening, the sky was lit by a bright flash of lighting. A deep roll of thunder followed.

That’s when the rain started. Turning, I spotted an unlucky scout who forgot his rain coat. Water was running over his head and into his eyes. His hair was plastered to his head and his spotless uniform began looking more and more like a soggy dishrag.

Everyone jumped up and rushed for the exits. In the confusion that followed I got separated from the rest of the troop. I somehow managed to keep up with Sean, one of the older boys. If it hadn’t been for him I would have gotten lost.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of four or five of the adult leaders singing “Oh What a Beautiful Morning.” Crawling out of the tent, I joined the growing number of scouts already assembled. Everyone was bundled up in the warmest clothes they had, usually a sweatshirt and jeans, or maybe a light weight jacket and a hat if they were lucky. Although it had stopped raining during the night, we could see our breath hover in the air, which wasn’t much of an improvement.

When it came time for our flag ceremony our leaders took a count to make sure everyone was up. Usually there were two or three scouts still in their tents. Most of the time, they were from the Chiefs patrol. Either they had overslept or they couldn’t find their uniform. On Thursday, however, two of the older boys decided they just weren’t going to get up. Ryan wasn’t too happy about it, and the two of them ended up on latrine duty.

Merit badges were the first thing we had in the morning after breakfast. For the first session everyone in my patrol was taking the Leatherworking and Basketry merit badges. This was taught in the open air handicrafts building. The hardest parts of the two merit badges were the projects, one leather working item, two baskets, and a stool, that was good for nothing other than looking at.

The other thing we had in the mornings was First Class Adventure. All the boys in the program were mixed together and split into four F.C.A. patrols. One of the first things the patrols did was pitch tents in the patrol sites. Inside these we crouched, as rain dripped down outside. During First Class Adventure we were taught basic scout skills, how to use a map and compass, knots and lashings, basic first aid, and the like.

After First Class Adventure everyone rushed back to the camp site to make lunch. Depending on how complicated the meal was the patrols would start eating around the same time or in some order ending with my patrol. Even with Chris and Alex helping our patrol, it took quite a bit longer to get anything done.

Afternoons were spent doing different troop activities. One afternoon we had Dutch oven cooking and rifle shooting, another we had water polo and archery. We also had sailing one afternoon although I didn’t go. It must have been fun though since Evan, my tent mate, couldn’t stop talking about it, “It was amazing! Once we got the boat out in the water we could really cruise. It was so windy we almost tipped a couple of times. There were a couple of Eagle Scouts who got their boat stuck so far in the weeds, even the motor boat couldn’t get to them.”

“That’s great,” was my only reply.

After troop activities there was instructional swim. All the scouts had to go to the beach to receive some sort of swimming instruction. I managed to avoid going for most of the week since it was so cold out.

After that was dinner, the longest meal of the day. There was an extra incentive to get done quickly. Seven o’ clock was the start of the camp’s free time period. If your patrol was still eating or cleaning up you couldn’t leave the camp site. The first two nights I went up to the climbing tower. When the tower director opened the tower at seven he told us, “There probably won’t be any climbing on the tower tonight. If you want to use the bouldering wall, however, you can come in.”

For the rest of the week, I spent free time working on my leatherworking and basketry projects.

That’s how the whole week went. It was hard to believe that it was almost over when Friday rolled around. The final campfire was that night. When our troop arrived we were greeted with an empty camp fire ring. Some other troop would end up on the steps tonight. The evening progressed quickly. Various awards were handed out and every troop performed a skit. At the very end, with the fire slowly dying in the background, the staff sung the Ballad of Many Point.

After the last note died, the staff silently glided up the steps. Slowly everyone walked out after them. Out on the road each staff member held a candle, which illuminated their face in the dark. Everyone slowly filed past shaking their hands.

“Have a good summer.”

“See you next year.”

Towards the middle of the camp ballad, this line appears, “A Scout will come again and again. Now he’s a boy but he’ll be a man.” Since that first trip, I have been enthralled by Many Point and I have gone back “again and again.”