ERNIE COWAN Union-Tribune Outdoors
SMELLS OF NATURE BRING BACK THE DAYS OF SUMMERS PAST
As spring teeters on the fulcrum of summer, it’s the smells of nature that ignite the most vivid memories.
A recent drive through the Cuyamaca Mountains was filled with the fragrances that brought back memories of my summer of emancipation. Pine trees, damp summer meadows, the delicate scent of wildflowers, campfires and even fresh air were the accelerants that ignited the fires of vivid memories. My 16th summer was spent working as a senior Boy Scout at Camp Hual-Cu-Cuish near Julian. Tucked into the oaks and pines at the edge of a broad meadow, it was home for several glorious weeks.
I was there as free labor to greet arriving young Scouts, watch over them in the swimming pool, lead hikes, or supervise games of Capture the Flag in the golden meadow below the camp. This was my first time away from home for an extended period and my last summer before becoming fully emancipated by getting my driver’s license.
Our small group of senior Scouts became a close gang of good guys that helped set life’s foundation. Such things as being trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly and other points of the Scout Law became important life touchstones.
It was a summer of growth when we were expected to be responsible and set good examples for our charges.
Each camp session began on Sunday around noon and ended a week later on Saturday after breakfast. Camp closed for that one day and normally everyone left and returned home. One weekend a few of us decided to stay around and live off the land.
After saying goodbye to the departing Scouts, we began our adventure. Julian was our destination, about 10 miles to the north. There was a riding stable near the highway to Julian so we headed there in hopes of catching a ride into town.
There were young cowgirls at the stable and the inevitable flirting began. We tried to impress with our stories of wilderness knowledge and leadership, and they stayed on their horses to demonstrate their command of animals.
There may also have been an element of escape included in their plan.
We lingered longer than necessary, but eventually caught a ride into Julian. Like any young men in port for liberty, Julian was our Tenderloin for a glorious afternoon, including apple pie and ice cream. There may have been some canned tuna for dinner, as well.
We spent the night camped on the ground someplace in the surrounding forest and made our way back to Hual-Cu-Cuish the next day in time for the arrival of the new wave of campers.
A few days later, while teaching younger Scouts how to lash poles together, riders appeared in the distant meadow. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that two cowgirls were approaching on horseback.
I dashed into the meadow to greet them. After all, these were old mountain friends, at least in my mind.
Comments were made about how cute I looked in my uniform and at some point there was an innocent teenage kiss as one of the girls leaned down from her horse. Then there was talk of another, more clandestine meeting.
One of the riders suggested a rendezvous that night on the fire road above the Boy Scout Camp. My heart soared. This was the greatest summer ever.
There was a problem, however. Wednesday night was mandatory hike night. The senior Scouts were all required to take the younger visitors on a hike after dinner. How would I get out this? I picked at my dinner and made a few comments about not feeling well. To my surprise, an adult leader said I didn’t look very good and suggested I go see the camp nurse.
Continuing my act, I visited the nurse. She took my temperature and announced that I had a low fever. I was ecstatic when she suggested I should probably not go on the mandatory hike.
With theatrical aplomb I sadly waved goodbye to the departing hikers, then raced to my ramada to prepare for my midnight rendezvous, scheduled for 9 p.m.
I donned by cleanest Scout uniform, full merit badge sash, knee socks and tassels at the calf. The cowgirl was impressed by a man in uniform, and I didn’t want to disappoint.
As the Scouts hiked the rocky trail to Stonewall Peak, I was preparing for an adventure of the heart, whatever that might be.
At the appointed hour I slipped into the woods and made my way to the fire road above camp.
In the softness of a dark summer night I waited. The smells of the forest etched into my mind.
Alas, my Valkyrie never materialized from the shadows and like the mythical female Norse spirits who choose who live or die in battle, I was about to become a fallen soldier in the conflict of love. Now I really was feeling
sick. At 16, affairs of the heart are like lip balm. It’s soothing and sweet for a moment, but soon gone and forgotten.
But each spring as I drive through the mountains and meadows of my youth, the fragrances of nature allow me to drift back to my summer of emancipation.
SMELLS OF NATURE BRING BACK THE DAYS OF SUMMERS PAST
As spring teeters on the fulcrum of summer, it’s the smells of nature that ignite the most vivid memories.
A recent drive through the Cuyamaca Mountains was filled with the fragrances that brought back memories of my summer of emancipation. Pine trees, damp summer meadows, the delicate scent of wildflowers, campfires and even fresh air were the accelerants that ignited the fires of vivid memories. My 16th summer was spent working as a senior Boy Scout at Camp Hual-Cu-Cuish near Julian. Tucked into the oaks and pines at the edge of a broad meadow, it was home for several glorious weeks.
I was there as free labor to greet arriving young Scouts, watch over them in the swimming pool, lead hikes, or supervise games of Capture the Flag in the golden meadow below the camp. This was my first time away from home for an extended period and my last summer before becoming fully emancipated by getting my driver’s license.
Our small group of senior Scouts became a close gang of good guys that helped set life’s foundation. Such things as being trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly and other points of the Scout Law became important life touchstones.
It was a summer of growth when we were expected to be responsible and set good examples for our charges.
Each camp session began on Sunday around noon and ended a week later on Saturday after breakfast. Camp closed for that one day and normally everyone left and returned home. One weekend a few of us decided to stay around and live off the land.
After saying goodbye to the departing Scouts, we began our adventure. Julian was our destination, about 10 miles to the north. There was a riding stable near the highway to Julian so we headed there in hopes of catching a ride into town.
There were young cowgirls at the stable and the inevitable flirting began. We tried to impress with our stories of wilderness knowledge and leadership, and they stayed on their horses to demonstrate their command of animals.
There may also have been an element of escape included in their plan.
We lingered longer than necessary, but eventually caught a ride into Julian. Like any young men in port for liberty, Julian was our Tenderloin for a glorious afternoon, including apple pie and ice cream. There may have been some canned tuna for dinner, as well.
We spent the night camped on the ground someplace in the surrounding forest and made our way back to Hual-Cu-Cuish the next day in time for the arrival of the new wave of campers.
A few days later, while teaching younger Scouts how to lash poles together, riders appeared in the distant meadow. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that two cowgirls were approaching on horseback.
I dashed into the meadow to greet them. After all, these were old mountain friends, at least in my mind.
Comments were made about how cute I looked in my uniform and at some point there was an innocent teenage kiss as one of the girls leaned down from her horse. Then there was talk of another, more clandestine meeting.
One of the riders suggested a rendezvous that night on the fire road above the Boy Scout Camp. My heart soared. This was the greatest summer ever.
There was a problem, however. Wednesday night was mandatory hike night. The senior Scouts were all required to take the younger visitors on a hike after dinner. How would I get out this? I picked at my dinner and made a few comments about not feeling well. To my surprise, an adult leader said I didn’t look very good and suggested I go see the camp nurse.
Continuing my act, I visited the nurse. She took my temperature and announced that I had a low fever. I was ecstatic when she suggested I should probably not go on the mandatory hike.
With theatrical aplomb I sadly waved goodbye to the departing hikers, then raced to my ramada to prepare for my midnight rendezvous, scheduled for 9 p.m.
I donned by cleanest Scout uniform, full merit badge sash, knee socks and tassels at the calf. The cowgirl was impressed by a man in uniform, and I didn’t want to disappoint.
As the Scouts hiked the rocky trail to Stonewall Peak, I was preparing for an adventure of the heart, whatever that might be.
At the appointed hour I slipped into the woods and made my way to the fire road above camp.
In the softness of a dark summer night I waited. The smells of the forest etched into my mind.
Alas, my Valkyrie never materialized from the shadows and like the mythical female Norse spirits who choose who live or die in battle, I was about to become a fallen soldier in the conflict of love. Now I really was feeling
sick. At 16, affairs of the heart are like lip balm. It’s soothing and sweet for a moment, but soon gone and forgotten.
But each spring as I drive through the mountains and meadows of my youth, the fragrances of nature allow me to drift back to my summer of emancipation.
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