Spirits were high. So was the 1973 spring water level in normally placid Cedar Run.

Planning and preparation had been thorough and precise. On the appointed day, parent volunteers and adult Scout leaders transported sleek aluminum canoes, equipment, supplies and over a dozen excited Scouts from Troop 128 in McLean, Virginia to the designated launch point at Star Tannery, West Virginia.

Everything was in order. Scout troop and patrol leaders commanded subordinates to load and embark. Good-byes were short. Enthusiasm was high. Six canoes slithered away in trail formation, easing to center stream for safety from rocks, overhanging branches, downed trees and other obstacles.

Exhilaration promptly morphed to terror as Scouts discovered that, notwithstanding expert instruction and training sessions at Fletcher's Boat House, they were less than fully prepared for the gauntlet of Class-3 rapids thrown down by raging little Cedar Run that day.

Slider 1 of 5

Straightaway, the main supply boat swerved crosscurrent and hung up on a center-stream boulder. Instantaneously, enormous forces crushed that canoe like an aluminum soda can, spewing its precious contents (including bow and stern Scouts!) into frothing rapids. No lives or limbs were lost, but egos and dignity were seriously injured.

Rescue operations took over an hour while all hands struggled to pluck floating provisions from the water's surface. Some bread loaves, sealed packages, and wrapped items were propelled downstream in frothing currents and could not be salvaged. Others bobbed against logs and embankments or circled in scummy eddies and were reclaimed by screaming Scouts jumping in and out of their canoes.

Even more exciting were marginally successful attempts to reclaim shining cans bumping along the rocky stream bottom, which scoured their labels clean.

Slider 2 of 5

After "regrouping", the flotilla, sans one canoe, proceeded downstream to a campsite “of opportunity” (since the disaster delay precluded reaching the pre-planned site in time to set up tents, build fires, cook, eat, dry gear, and get bedded down before dark).

Spirits were marginally lifted when Scouts sighted and seized one of their fresh pineapples bobbing along the run miles from the disaster scene. Meals were innovative (well, bizarre) since patrol chefs were obliged to use whatever appeared when they opened unlabeled cans (like cherry pie filling in lieu of baked beans). Extraordinary accounts wore told, embellished, and retold during chow, around campfires, and in tents that night.

Slider 3 of 5

The next morning, sunshine kissed the camp. Body batteries recharged with precious (little) sleep, resilient Troop 128 sallied forth into Cedar Run waters that were a bit more canoe-friendly as crests subsided and the stream widened. All was well with the world — until about mid-day when the lead canoes rounded a curve at the head of a verdant valley and began crashing into frightened dairy cows taking the waters. The Scout Handbook contains no instructions for stopping canoes in fast water to avoid colliding with terrorized cows trying to protect themselves from invasion boats. It was a grim scene as tenderfoot sea-Scouts abandoned ship into the shallow but roiling waters. Again, however, the patron of all Scouts smiled on Troop 128. No hands were lost.

Slider 4 of 5

Having recovered from this bovine bash, the seasoned T 128 armada proceeded along to the destination and disembarkation point at a bridge just outside the village of Manassas (this was 1973 ). It had been two days packed with drama and high adventure. Scout minds were focused, reviewing and embellishing hyperbolic tales to relate to parents and siblings now en route to the pickup point.

Nothing could top the events of yesterday and this morning! Nothing except - what suddenly appeared ahead in mid-stream - one good-ol' boy holding high a fifth of Virginia's finest, and his two best gal friends, having a rollicking mid-stream skinny dip! Wowee! Scout eyeballs popped from their sockets. There was hushed silence. Presumably, T 128 scouts were thinking, "Surely this is excellent observation training and will qualify each participating scout for the mother of all nature merit badges!"

Overall, the Scoutmaster and adult leaders were thankful for a 100% survival rate on this event — and that no scouts were forced to resign from the Troop by indignant parents. No participants ever suggested canoeing Cedar Run again.

Slider 5 of 5