The Algonquin Journals

It's a Friday, not sure of the date, but I'm sure it was the Winter of 1977. Bob called me earlier in the week, told me the troop was contemplating a summer canoe hike in Maine. To spur interest, he put together a collection of slides of our summer trip. He asked if Ricky and I would be interested in narrating them. We agreed! That night, we attended the meeting. A screen was erected in front of the main table along with a slide projector placed on the back table. We stood in front of the group. We must of looked like a race of giants for Ricky and I were both 17 years old, before a group of 11, 12 and 13 year olds.

The Senior Patrol Leader introduced us as the meeting deviated slightly from the predictable agenda. The lights went off! On the screen flashed color photographs of our Canoe Trip in Canada. The slides showed a vast outdoor world of lakes that seemed endless, woods that stretched across a continent. Trails that might lead to the ends of the earth. We gave our own narrative, which sparked a new chapter of Troop 64 folklore. The wrong direction across a windy lake. Running out of food over twenty miles from basecamp and the wrong portage trek. The legends of the lost trail chef and a cindrella sneaker, were being replaced, as we inscribed the next chapter in Troop 64 history.

The last slide flashed on the screen; canoes being placed on Bob's jeep for the long ride back to Connecticut. The lights went on. We could see that our adventure captivated a new interest, just like it did for us four years earlier. I could remember back in that Winter of 1973 when a wilderness canoe trip to Canada was only a far off dream to us. Ricky and I did what we set out to do, turn a dream into a reality. All realities, turn to memories. Now the Summer of 1976 was a far off memory.