The summer after I turned 16 was marked by a river trip on the Snake River in Wyoming. We had to raise the funds for this trip. We had to brainstorm for fund raiser ideas. I suggested we sell boy scout cookies, but somehow the group decided on a more lucrative project. We dug out and poured cement driveways. One was at my house, making our driveway twice as wide. Another, was scheduled on the same night as the Junior Prom at the high school. The leaders felt a bit abandoned when every guy left in the middle of the pour to go get ready for the date. Somehow we ended up with plenty of money to pay for the Snake River trip. Dad himself was going on this trip with me. He had been an explorer leader years ago and had come home from explorer river trips with a real canoe paddle and with lots of stories. As a small boy, I was very excited that someday in the distant future I would be able to go with him. That time had now arrived!
This was to be my last scout-related camp, at least while I was still scout age. It almost seemed poetic. Two events I dreamed of doing with my Dad when I was little, scout camps and river trips. My first scout camp ever had been an over-nighter with Dad there. Now I finished out with a river trip with Dad.
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