Tags
Accidents, adventure, Boy Scours, camping, Cooking, Danger, First Aid, Hiking, Leadership, Life, Nature, scoutmaster, Travel, Unsupervised
On one of our hiking adventures, we planned a trip to the Eye of the Needle — a rock formation deep inside the Sipsey Wilderness. This trip was special because it was the first real hiking experience for several of the boys, so we intentionally chose what we believed was an easy trail.
(“Easy trail,” by the way, is hiking language for you probably won’t die, but you will question your ability as a hiker.)
At this point in my scouting career, I was serving as an Assistant Scoutmaster. Our Scoutmaster was a middle-aged lady who, along with her son, had been involved in scouting far longer than I had. I was in the process of completing Scoutmaster training to eventually take over the role.
When we arrived at the trailhead, she announced that she wanted to separate the boys and have them camp at one site while the adult leaders camped at another.
Immediately, alarms went off in my head.
The rule was clear: two-deep leadership at all times. If the boys camped separately, we would be breaking that rule.
While we were hiking, I carefully brought this up. She quickly informed me that I didn’t know what I was talking about and started listing situations where other troops had done the same thing. I could tell I had upset her, so I dropped it — at least out loud.
Another leader later pulled me aside during a break. He agreed with me but didn’t want to push the issue and create conflict.
Nothing brings adults together like silently agreeing that something is a bad idea… and then doing it anyway.
That uneasy feeling never left me.
Setting Up Camp
We reached the first campsite around dusk. We made sure the boys had everything they needed and supervised them setting up their backpacking tents. Once the Scoutmaster was satisfied everything was under control, the adult leaders picked up our packs and hiked another 45 minutes to the opposite side of the rock formation.
The Eye of the Needle itself is massive. At the top is a round opening in the rock that leads to the other side. Climbing it and descending would only take about 20 minutes — but one slip could easily mean a broken bone… or worse.
Or at minimum, a very awkward conversation with your wife when you get home.
From the moment we left the boys, I felt sick.
You know that feeling — when you know something isn’t right, but the train has already left the station, and you’re sitting in seat 12B with no emergency exit.
The Preparation — And The One Thing We Couldn’t Prevent
Because this was a backpacking trip, everyone carried their own meals. Since it was only one night, we just needed supper and breakfast. Most people brought dehydrated meals — just add boiling water.
Which, if you’ve never had one, tastes somewhere between “not bad” and eating a cardboard box.”
We had spent weeks preparing for this trip.
We checked the packs for weight limits.
We made every boy demonstrate their stove.
We made every boy cook the exact meal they planned to cook on the trip.
We did everything right.
Except for the small detail that teenage boys sometimes forget things 12 minutes after you teach them.
The Moment Everything Changed
While we leaders were sitting around cooking, one of the boys came scrambling down the hill yelling that another scout had burned his foot.
Then the injured scout came hopping down after him.
He had placed his stove between his feet. When he turned to grab something, he knocked boiling water onto his other foot. When he pulled off his shoe, it took skin with it.
At that moment, every first aid class I had ever taken came rushing back into my brain like a pop quiz I was not emotionally prepared for.
I knew immediately — this was serious.
His father was on the trip and worked in the medical field. We both agreed: he needed a hospital immediately.
The problem was — we were five miles from the trailhead; five miles in the middle of nowhere. And it was after 9 PM.
And nobody hikes faster after dark carrying another human unless a bear is involved.
Bad Choices… Leading to Worse Ones
Breaking camp and moving everyone would take too long. The decision was made that the injured scout’s father and two leaders would carry him out.
That left two leaders to return to camp after making sure the injured scout and his dad made it safely to the trailhead.
And one leader to stay with eight scouts.
Me.
I was “volunteered.”
Probably because I was the slowest hiker in the group anyway.
Nothing boosts your confidence like hearing, “You stay here… you’ll just slow us down.”
The problem?
I physically couldn’t reach the boys quickly if something else happened.
And one of those boys… was my son.
I made a decision, and I’m still not sure it was the right one. I carefully climbed the rock formation until I was close enough for them to hear me and yelled for them to get into their tents and stay there until the leaders returned.
I probably sounded like an angry mountain goat, but they got the message.
The Longest Night
The other leaders returned around 3 AM.
I stayed awake the entire time waiting.
I didn’t say a word.
I just went to bed.
Some conversations don’t need to happen right then — because everyone already knows.
And, because I was too tired to form complete sentences.
The Quiet Ride Home
Breaking camp was silent.
The boys were exhausted. Most slept during the 2½ hour ride home.
I might have slept for an hour myself.
The next week, parents started calling. They were upset — and rightfully so. I assured each of them that we would address it at the next meeting.
At that meeting, I came prepared. I brought every written rule regarding two-deep leadership.
The Scoutmaster apologized.
She admitted she was wrong.
Lessons You Don’t Forget
Sometimes leadership means speaking up.
Sometimes it means living with decisions you wish you could take back.
And sometimes it means learning that rules exist because someone, somewhere, learned the hard way. There is a reason instructions are printed on the back side of a shampoo bottle.
That night, I learned to trust my gut.
Because sometimes that sick feeling in your stomach…
Is wisdom trying to get your attention.
And sometimes… It’s also dehydrated beef stroganoff.
But that’s a different story.
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