Webelos Campout

I (Sweetie) recently went camping with Hobbes' Webelos den. In fact, both Calvin and I went along on the campout, as Mr. LITH was away on business.

We headed out shortly after school on Friday, intending to meet the rest of the Scouts and associated adults at the turn off for Black Jack Campground. Now there have been communication glitches with Scouts a number of times in the past, including times that we have made trips to Avalon (2.5 hours round trip) for meetings that had been cancelled, postponed, or moved. I had confirmation from Hobbes's den leader (let's call her Jefe Webelo) that they intended to leave Avalon at 4:15 PM, which would put them at the turn off around 4:45 PM... We arrived around 4:35, and proceeded to wait. And wait. And wait. At 5 PM, I called Jefe Webelos and got no answer. By 5:05, I was beginning to construct elaborate scenarios by which we had been forgotten, or plans had changed and we weren't notified. I tried, with limited success, not to relay my frustration to the boys. At about 5:25, the van carrying the Webelos from Avalon arrived and we took our place in the caravan bound for Black Jack.

The theme of the weekend was to work on their Handyman badge and their Outdoorsman badge. So the Scouts set up their tent -- a huge affair that was large enough to house all the Webelos -- and proceed to build camp stools. The camp stools consist of a frame and a weaved top. The weaving at first went fine, with boys doing most of the work. As the frame filled in, however, the work got more and more difficult to do... and the parents began to pick up the slack. By the end of the evening, there were mostly parents standing around the table, doing the work!

We had dinner (hotdogs, of course) and after KP duty, the boys began running around in the dark like crazy people. Besides Jefe Webelos, all the other adults present were men, and naturally, they built a huge fire in the fire pit. It was a monster -- one of those fires where the side you have toward the fire is roasting and your opposite side is chilly. In fact, one of the guys had the entire bed of his pickup truck full of wood. And I think we burned most of it. We eventually had s'mores, which were hard to make properly with our forest fire raging...

The Webelos were showing no signs of slowing down when Calvin said to me, "Mom, I'm tired. Can we go to bed?" So he and I went to bed in our tent -- Hobbes was sleeping in a huge tent with the rest of the Scouts.
The night was quite cold, and I worried a great deal about Hobbes as his sleeping bag is pretty wimpy. I managed to convince him to put on lots of clothes: sweatpants, top, stocking cap, and socks. This is amazing -- Hobbes does not like to wear that many clothes, ever.

In the morning, we got up very soon after the sun peeked over the horizon. We had breakfast, ziploc omelets, which was awesome. You make them by putting beaten eggs or eggbeaters into a ziploc bag, then add whatever else you'd like (cheese, mushroom, onion, etc.). You squeeze out all of the air and seal the bag, then drop it into a pot of boiling water... in about 10 minutes: omelets in a ziploc! Everyone got to make their own and drop them in the pot, which they liked very much.

After breakfast KP, the boys and adults set to work on Cubmobiles. What are Cubmobiles? They are gravity-powered go-carts and making them satisfied the wood-working requirement for the Handyman badge. The boys got to use power tools, which is always popular with the Y-chromosome set.

Again, the project went on a bit longer than the boys' attention spans, so adults ended up finishing most of the project. But everyone, and I mean everyone, was in line to ride the Cubmobiles when they were finished. Hobbes' first trip down the hill, which was a bit rough, ended in a crash, which resulted in much muttering and stomping. Subsequent trips were more successful, so the Cubmobile experience ended on a happy note. Calvin and I took a trip in tandem, which was fun (although we almost crashed too) and then I took a trip solo. I like Cubmobiles!

After lunch, everyone packed up and drove home. A successful camping trip to Black Jack! And Daniel didn't even (permanently) lose his knife!

Camping

We camped in our new (used) pop-up for the first time. There was, of course, a small learning curve involved. Friday, I took off early to help pack things up. Well, actually, I was mostly concerned with trying to figure out how to sanitize the water tank. I never did figure it out before we had to leave, which left Sweetie to do most of the packing.

I started throwing stuff in the back of the truck with grand thoughts of bringing my guitar and the telescope and other things, but the back of the truck filled up quickly with our camp chairs, cooking gear, sleeping bags and food.

Finally, time came to leave. Sweetie and I tried to get the trailer on the hitch while Hobbes filmed us with the video camera. Not entirely flattering, us bickering with each other while trying to figure out how to get the hitch to engage. Finally, we decided to just pull out and see if that did it. It did. The tires on the trailer were kinda flat, but at that point we really needed to get going, so off we went.

Our campsite

We got all the way to the water treatment plant (about 3/4 of a mile) when I realized that I hadn't brought the instructions for erecting the pop-up with us. We stopped and I got out to walk back to town (I didn't want to turn the trailer around) to get them. Calvin decided to join me to get his pillow. Fortunately, a neighbor drove by and offered to give us a lift to our house and back to the truck, saving us precious time. On the road again, we made slow time. It was a new experience driving with a trailer across the bumpy dirt road. I never mind treating the truck to some bumps, but didn't want to stress a 25-year-old trailer too much, so we drove slowly. We finally got to Little Harbor and found campsite 17. It's at the top of the campsite, perched between Little and Shark Harbors. It was nice that we were up away from other campers and no-one was in 17a across the way. Very quiet. Except for the Things.

Popping up the camper went relatively smoothly (since we had the directions). I discovered two things: the battery was dead (not surprising) and the drain for the water reservoir is under the seat in the dining area. Good to know. We started a fire and did a weenie roast for dinner, followed by s'mores for dessert. Sweetie and Hobbes read Deathly Hallows in the trailer, while Calvin and I read Harold and the Purple Crayon in the truck. Then it was bed time. Sweetie and I didn't stay up much past the boys' bed time. We knew they would be up early.

S'mores!

I will note at this point that the weather really wasn't cooperating. It was overcast and wet and chilly (that means 60s during the day and the 50s at night). Not very good for a campout at the beach, but it did make us appreciate our trailer that much more. The previous owners had left us some extra blankets, which Calvin needed before the night was through (since he only had a kid sleeping bag).

On the trail

Sure enough, as soon as it was light (6:30am) the boys stirred and woke us up. We cooked scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast on the stove in the trailer. Calvin insisted we eat at the table in the trailer. It was a cold (~60) and gray morning. The boys helped clean up, and then we went on a hike. I'll let Sweetie describe it on her blog (A Hiking Diary of Catalina). I will say it was a nice, although exhausting, hike. We returned entirely ready for lunch. Sweetie cooked up some grilled cheese sandwiches and we had a few minutes of quiet time (not enough in my opinion). Since we were camping at the beach, we decided we might as well go down to the water, even though it was, as I said rather cold and gray. The boys dutifully put on their bathing suits and we wandered down to Shark Harbor. We saw a neighbor down there setting up camp and chatted a bit while the boys discovered how cold the water was (pretty damn cold). The boys decided climbing around on the rocks was more fun than freezing to death in the water. After not too long, we all decided it was time to make dinner, and headed back to camp.

Cold gray day; cold gray water; surfers have no more sense than boys.

For dinner, we had a chuckwagon combo of beans and ground turkey. It was pretty good, considering we (Sweetie) just sort of made it up on the spot. This evening, I had Hobbes build and light the fire (12 matches!), and Calvin apprenticed in the art of putting a stick in the fire and lighting it on fire and then waving it around in the air. After more s'mores and Harry Potter, it was time for bed. We were all exhausted.

Sunday morning again came early. The boys are like clockwork with their waking up. It was again rather gray and damp and cold outside, so we had pancakes in the trailer for breakfast. Afterwards, it was time to strike camp. The Things did a reasonable job packing up their clothes and sleeping bags. Hobbes helped Sweetie do breakfast dishes while Calvin helped me pack up the truck. We took down the trailer with ease (and found Calvin's hat on top). Hobbes was very helpful with this.

Breakfast KP

As we were getting ready to pull out, we decided that the one tire was too flat, so since we had a spare, we decided to change it. The truck jack worked very well for this, and soon we were on our way with a marginally less flat tire.

Surprisingly, no one fell asleep in the truck on the way home, but once we got there and unpacked, it was clear that we had some tired boys, so we had a movie afternoon. We had such a good time, that we've already booked three more weekends this summer. Next time out, we'll have a charged battery, inflated tires, and better weather.

Let's go fly a kite

This afternoon, I took the boys kite-flying. We decided to try out these nifty little delta wing kites that Sweetie got the boys a long time ago, but we'd never opened. The kites were made of ripstop nylon, were about a foot across, had a delta shape (duh) and two long tails (10ft?). After a few minutes construction, we went down to the field across from the school. It being the afternoon, there was a nice, constant breeze (locally referred to as the Isthmus Express) coming through the valley from Catalina Harbor towards Isthmus Cove.

I started trying to help Calvin get his kite going, but it would just spin around and around and then crash into the ground. I think there was a balance problem there. Calvin was getting very frustrated. Meanwhile Hobbes was giggling. I looked over and he was laughing because his kite was also going round and round, but what I saw was that the string and the tails were going round and round each other and making a big messy knot. I quickly abandoned Calvin to his conniption and began struggling to untangle Hobbes' kite. Images of Charlie Brown's experiences with kites flashed through my head as I looked at the wound and looped strands. I finally got the tails free, and had one knot left in the string. Now this was not nice thick, high-quality kite string; this was essentially white thread. I pulled on the knot and the string snapped. Hobbes began to have a conniption of his own. (Perhaps I expressed a bit too much exasperation over the tangle, too.) He went over to hold on Calvin's kite so it wouldn't blow away. With Calvin's help (he has small fingers) I managed to tie the two ends of Hobbes' kite string together and he was ready to go. I looked over and saw that he had somehow managed to tangle Calvin's kite string and tails.

After a prolonged sigh, I relieved Hobbes' of Calvin's kite and we managed to get his up into the air. Up it soared, and he started figuring out how to make the kite move left and right and how to get it to climb when the wind started to lessen. He was having a ball.

Calvin, on the other hand, was still in Conniption City. I managed to untangle his with relative ease, but we still couldn't get it to fly properly. It just spun around and crashed. I sent him home to get another kite. (That's the polite way of saying he stormed home to get another kite.) This was a wing kite, and I don't know where we got these, either, but we'd tried them before and had a similar spinning problem. But today, when we got it unwrapped, it sailed up into the sky with little problem and for a brief second I thought we were on our way to a pleasant afternoon. "Don't cross the strings!" I warned.

Seconds later, they crossed strings. Calvin's wing kite, being heavier and having thicker string, managed to saw through Hobbes' thread (or maybe the knot I made failed, I don't know). Set free, it blew across the field carried by the Isthmus Express. I gave chase. I ran down the field, past the pavilion and picnic area, across the street and into town. I kept hoping the kite would fall, but it just kept going. I ran down to the beach and saw that the kite was now over the water, but starting to descend. It hit the water about thirty yards out, just beyond the Baywatch dingy. I trotted down the pier and found a Harbor Patrol employee who said he would take me out to see if we could retrieve it, but alas, it had sunk beneath the surface. I jogged back up to the field. Calvin and his kite were nowhere to be seen. Hobbes was sitting with his head down on one of the picnic tables. He looked up and I told him the bad news. Tears. We started home to get some sympathy from Mom.

So here is the last known picture of Kitey. Ah lad, we knew ye well. Godspeed, and maybe we'll see you washed up on the beach tomorrow morning. (If so, we'll rinse you off and try to fly you again.)

Goodbye green

Well, the brown creep has hit the island. The rainy season is over, and the plants, after a glorious flowering period are starting to die off. The grasses are going to seed and turning an attractive shade of gold, and patches of brown are springing up on the hillsides that were so recently emerald green.

The dust levels have picked up again, too. Driving once again engenders a large cloud of fine dust that coats the back of the truck, the plant life adjacent to the road, and anyone you happen to drive past.

We still have been having some stormy weather, but that consists of low pressure fronts kicking up the channel to uncrossable levels. We've had two such storms in the last month. Poor Sweetie had to make a crossing on a day when the ferry was almost canceled. (I think the passengers all wished it had been by the time they got here.)

In related turning of the seasons news, I recently needed to buy some new pants. I don't believe I will receive any sympathy from anyone, but I had to get rid of some pants I bought when I was a senior in college. They no longer fit in the waist. Alas, middle-age spread has finally arrived. (Sweetie was greatly amused by this, I should mention, while I accepted the situation with grace and dignity.) Apparently the kids still love me, and the cat still sits on my lap, but the young ladies no longer glance my direction. Okay, to be honest it's been some time since a young lady glanced in my direction unless I was shouting something like "Oh my God! I'm on fire!", but I digress.

I just hope I don't start going gray.

Peace out.