In the nineties, I worked high above Marin at Boy Scout camp Tamarancho. One night three of the guys and I thought it might be fun to sneak out. They provided spare combat boots, camoflage and a wireless radio, and we slipped over the grassy hills into the redwoods. One mile down the fire road we filed silently into Girl Scout camp Bothin.
It was past bedtime. Here the girls slept in two-story sorority houses, while we dwelled in some of the canvas tents we pitched week after week. We swept past the gymnastics area to the parked cars. Only then did we notice counselors milling about. Two were close, listening to the radio in the car one of us happened to be crouching behind. He got a mouthful of exhaust.
After an eternity, they retired. On the far end, a man started patrolling the grounds with two dogs. One by one we jumped behind some trees. I was last and landed on a pile of branches. The flashlight swung our way. Again we waited.
Eventually the night was still. As planned, we made our grand exit. We lined up two-by-two and marched out the way we came. Inspired by John Wayne in "Green Berets," we shouted as we picked up the pace, "Who are you?" "Airborne!" "I wanna be an airborne ranger..."
Obviously no one was asleep. The girls were at the balconies in seconds. Some even started to chase us up the hill as we sprinted away. We gave one more shout from the hillside. By sheer luck, the ranger had just finished fixing the pump, and the director had yet to stand watch following a call from police, so we strolled back to camp unseen. Someone tipped us off about the call so we hit the sack early.
Epilogue: next year, camp Bucher Berg, Germany. (Scouting is coed outside the states.) A Finnish scout told me about her summer staffing in California. In Marin. ?Did the boys ever visit?? ?Well, once??
Dear Lucas employees: I?m sorry if we frightened your daughters.
It was past bedtime. Here the girls slept in two-story sorority houses, while we dwelled in some of the canvas tents we pitched week after week. We swept past the gymnastics area to the parked cars. Only then did we notice counselors milling about. Two were close, listening to the radio in the car one of us happened to be crouching behind. He got a mouthful of exhaust.
After an eternity, they retired. On the far end, a man started patrolling the grounds with two dogs. One by one we jumped behind some trees. I was last and landed on a pile of branches. The flashlight swung our way. Again we waited.
Eventually the night was still. As planned, we made our grand exit. We lined up two-by-two and marched out the way we came. Inspired by John Wayne in "Green Berets," we shouted as we picked up the pace, "Who are you?" "Airborne!" "I wanna be an airborne ranger..."
Obviously no one was asleep. The girls were at the balconies in seconds. Some even started to chase us up the hill as we sprinted away. We gave one more shout from the hillside. By sheer luck, the ranger had just finished fixing the pump, and the director had yet to stand watch following a call from police, so we strolled back to camp unseen. Someone tipped us off about the call so we hit the sack early.
Epilogue: next year, camp Bucher Berg, Germany. (Scouting is coed outside the states.) A Finnish scout told me about her summer staffing in California. In Marin. ?Did the boys ever visit?? ?Well, once??
Dear Lucas employees: I?m sorry if we frightened your daughters.