How I Sawz It: Camping with Amazons, a Naked Fraulein & the Major

     I've always loved camping since I was a young, impressionable kid. When I was growing up, most heroes for the guys my age were Army men, cowboys and Frontiersmen. World War II was only about 20 years past and GI Joe was in our mindset and toy box. Our TV shows included The Rifleman and Bonanza. We lived on Daniel Boone and his adventures. So, it was nothing to ask permission to build a tent and sleep in the backyard. The tent was usually home made. It was some tarp draped over a cord with a few sleeping bags and a flashlight or two inside. And other than being scolded for building a bonfire, being attacked by nosy neighborhood teens or foul weather; it all made for an adventurous summer night. (And made one more appreciative of their own bed on following nights.)
     I really became impassioned with camping back in college. The head of our school's ROTC would take a group from the program, any student taking the free ROTC offered class Outdoor Skills (for an independent study grade)... and a tag-along (much like myself)... on a camping trip, twice a year. The adventure of camping was soon in my blood. Camping was part nature, part exercise, part frat party... and a great way to change a stressed college student's perspective, at least it did for me. Overworked? Feel like the walls are closing in? Can't sleep? Head to the woods and the great outdoors! Nature's way of rebooting your system.
     The first year I went on the Fall weekend camping trip with Major Frink and his ROTC crowd. I was ill prepared but luckily we had great weather. No tent, a musty ROTC supplied sleeping bag and few essentials ... my first foray into this hike/camp/hike weekend. But the trip did include most of the college's girl volleyball team. The highlight? A game of Truth or Dare and then sleeping around the campfire ... only to wake up sandwiched between two tall sleeping coeds. Innocent, but memorable. I can also remember on the way home in one of the ROTC vans, our driver agreed to drop me off at my rental house... instead of having to lug all my gear (what was of it) back from campus. I fondly remember the music playing on the radio before reaching the home front... The theme from M*A*S*H. Perfect and fitting.

   On the Spring trip, I was better prepared. A tent. Some fishing gear. My best friend Ron. A new love interest named Laurie.. and a great attitude. All started well, Ron drove and I sweet talked Laurie to tag along with us. (Ron: Don't tell Shelley we took a girl with us in the car!) Reaching the campground and lake, we parked all the vehicles and did the 5-6 mile hike to our designated campsite. ROTC cadets immediately headed off away from us 'hippie civilians' and set up their own camp site to play army. We, 'the hippies' set up our tent village closer to the lake. First dilemma! Laurie had left her glasses back on Ron's car and needed them for when she would take out her contact lenses. Unbeknownst to us, while we all set up the tents, the Major hoofed back to our car (5 miles) and returned the glasses (another 5 miles) to a thankful, fawning Laurie. He was the Big Hero. Can't beat that... I thought! I later determined that he had to retrieve the glasses as a way keeping everybody in good spirits on this ROTC recruiting trip disguised as a camping weekend, but I digress.
     Feeling humbled by the eyeglass rescue, catching no fish and a feeble attempt at starting a campfire on my own, I braced myself for a long weekend. But nature has a way of rewarding those that respect it. As if asking a troop of Boy Scouts 'who wanted to earn a merit badge?' The Major gathered us all down by the lake looking for volunteers to swim the 200 yards or so to the other side. A handful of cadets were eager. Laurie looked to me. I really believe in all honesty, she (and my buddy Ron) thought I was going to make some asinine comment about their 'A Ten Hut' attitude. No! It was time to Man Up and get Sir Lancelot and the Eyeglasses episode behind me.. or die (drown) trying. I volunteered. Much to the cheers (from the Hippies) and jeers (from the cadets) of our group.
     Now... I must preface this by saying... I can swim. I was in great shape playing soccer and working out. And.. I love to swim. But the middle of the lake was 40-60 feet deep, not a place for a cramp... or to just drown in general. No rescue boats.. no life guards.
     So, 10 of us lined up. 9 cadets and one idiot... me! And we were off. I first noticed I was keeping pace with some of the front runners. Then I noticed one quit.. then another. I just kept a good stroke going. In little or no time, I was almost across the lake. I could hear faint cheers in the background... not just from our campsite, but from curious campers around the lake. Reaching the other side... I was alone. All the others had quit and turned back by the halfway point. I was elated.. tired... exhilarated. Cheers again from the Hippies. Jeers from the Cadets... "Now! You have to swim back!"

     I wasn't scared about the return trek, but I knew I had to rest a bit. After feeling a bit cold standing on the opposite shore, I decided it was time to get back in the water. I started slow, seemingly going nowhere. I picked up the pace, but all I could think about was getting a cramp. Then... I focused on Laurie... how I met her that morning. Probably one of the prettiest women I have ever met hanging around the ROTC program... other than my Amazon volleyball goddesses... I kept swimming. I focused on Major Frink. One of the most popular figures on campus. He was tall, good looking...with a beautiful wife... great looking, clean cut kids... and a cherry Mustang convertible. Frink liked me because I was independent, funny and just seemingly got through my father's murder a year or two earlier. Frink had been in Vietnam. he lost people, too. I kept swimming.
     As I started to hear cheers again I knew was getting closer to shore. Straight line. Even stroke. It seemed like hours... to me... but I was soon there. Most of the cadets had left for their campsite, but my hippies including... Frink... Ron.. and Laurie were there on the lake shore to celebrate my personal victory. I got a towel (did I even bring one?), a swig of some homemade rot gut/firestarter... a huge smile from Laurie and a proud fatherly look from Frink. I had my moment! I was back! Thank you, Nature. Thank you for not taking me 60 feet deep to the bottom of the lake but delivering me back to shore in calm waters.
     It rained a bit that night, but we hardly knew it. Ron had brought a 6 person tent and shared it with Laurie and me. All innocent! (Don't tell Shelley there was a woman in the tent exclaimed Ron! 30+ years and 3 kids later, the story is revealed! Sorry, Ron!)
     About dawn, a buddy of mine from my freshman dorm, Chris Friend, another hippie on this trip, came calling to us to get out of our tent... in a strange whispered tone. We went out to investigate (or probably just to pee). What we found was a small group of the Hippie guys perched behind a big rock. It seemed that there was a German student bathing in the lake. A buxom German student.A naked buxom German student.
     Laurie, joining us, quickly assessed the situation and commented, "she knows what she is doing!" and went back to bed.
     "I zee you boys!" Said the buxom Fraulein never once stopping sudsing her body with soap. After a minute or so, Ron and I left the gawkers and headed back to start a campfire to cook breakfast.
     Frink wanted everyone packed up and ready to make the second day hike up the Big Hill before lunchtime. Though a bit of a shorter hike on the third day, it was a bit of a rugged climb to get to the other set of cars we had left there. Frink asked for volunteers to police the area of the campsite and collect all the garbage... which had to be carried out, too. Ron and I surprisingly volunteered. The group hiked off... we immediately opened lawn chairs and sat admiring the lake. Ron drinking a beer, me finishing the last of my coffee. We sat... and sat. It was getting later... and later. I looked at Ron and suggested we had better get going or we would have to hoof it to catch up with our group. Ron had a better plan.
     We flagged down a fisherman and his kid in a powerboat on the lake. They gave us a ride to the shore below where the cars and van were parked. We gave him any and all drinks left in the cooler, thanked him and then stealthily worked our way up the hill. We climbed atop the van... set up the lawn chairs and waited.
   The first to arrive were some 'A Ten Hut' ROTC cadets. Claiming they were first, not seeing us... we could sense their disappointment and later scorn. In fact, everyone who arrived up the hill had a look of dissension... including Laurie.... and definitely Major Frink! He grilled us... almost angrily!
     Frink: How did you get here?
     Me: Well.. now.. that's a good story!
    Ron to the rescue! Ron: Well! We were reading our Outdoor Skills book! (Ron and I were taking the class at the time.) And in Chapter 8 it specifically states... when you are visiting a foreign place... get to know the Natives... learn their language... trade with them. We traded what was in our cooler for a ride... and that's how we got here.
     {BRILLIANT!.. and it was in Chapter 8} The Major scolded us, but we were both too personable and fun loving to be angry at for long. Maybe, an hour or so. Or the time it takes to drive back to the college campus. So off we went!
     Driving back, Ron at the wheel and Laurie napping in the backseat, I sat leafing through the Outdoor Skills book, conveniently brought along. I guess during the course of that course, I should have read it earlier. Good book. Good read. Good class. Hoo-ha!
     Ron was rushing to get back to his girlfriend Shelley. Laurie had some Little Sister Meeting at a fraternity house. Me? I had a date at my house with my claw foot bath tub.
     Laurie: You have a claw foot bath tub?
     Me: And a box of Mr. Bubble! Bring your bathing suit and a snack tray!
     Laurie: What time?
     Me: 6 PM!
     Laurie: Sorry! I have a meeting then.
     Me: I'll leave the door open in case you change your mind.
     Ron: I've got plans!
     Me: You... Mr. Trade with the Natives.... were NOT invited!
    Laurie: I'll think about it!
    Me: You do that!

And so... back to civilization. Soaking in a huge tub to take away the grit & dirt and aches & pains of the camping weekend... and a surprise snack tray! The college camping trips went from just a nice break to a necessary, cathartic requirement. And though they called and called to have me join (but me, unwilling to give a 6 year post-college commitment), I do thank the ROTC for their gracious hospitality, if not musty amenities. To Ron (and Shellster).. Laurie... And all my best to Major Frink... on whatever island in Hawaii he and his gorgeous wife have retired. Thank you!

I've come to cherish those college camping expeditions as the basis for all following camping adventures. Including... River Days: A Coming of Age Tale... Middle Age Check it out!