Tornadoes, heatstroke, wild moose and bears have never been able to take me down. That's right, I'm a regular survivor-man because I was a mother-effing Boy Scout! I survived plenty of extreme situations in the wild, thanks to my 10 years of training.
But Boy Scouts get a lot of undeserved crap, both now and back when I was a part of it. For example, girls weren't exactly lying down at our feet, begging us to show them our rope-tying skills. The guys in school always gave us a hard time for being in an organization that was all male. It wasn't because anyone was gay (in fact homosexuals still aren't allowed in the Boy Scouts), but rather it was because girls straight up couldn't handle our hardcore life-and-death situations.
Still think I'm full of it? Let me tell you about the many times I've slapped death in the face with my merit badge sash.
My first year at Camp Cedars, a Boy Scout camp near Fremont, Neb., we had a thunderstorm nearly every day. One Tuesday night, the annual Camp Cedars tornado struck. Instead of being sent to an indoor basement like most pansy "non-scout" people of the world, we took refuge in a much safer location: a ditch. As trees were falling all around us and the storm weaved its path of destruction, we simply shrugged off the fear while singing TV theme songs.
At Camp Buffalo Bill in Wyoming, we had zero storm situations but plenty of wildlife encounters. One day, a wild moose was loose on the camp site. Any sane person would be told to run away. Instead, we learned to stand perfectly still so the moose wouldn't trample our faces.
On the first day at Buffalo Bill, the camp counselors told us there were lots of bears that lived near the camp and would often pay us visits. We all carved out our own "bear-killing sticks" or bought heavy walking sticks to protect ourselves. When I did have a run-in with a pretty big bear, he was cool and completely ignored me.
Lastly, at the National Boy Scout Jamboree of 2005, we Boy Scouts faced our greatest threat yet: heat. The jamboree was held near Washington, D.C., and throughout the week, the heat index soared to nearly 120 degrees. People were dropping like flies.
The first night at camp, a horrible power line accident killed at least three people visiting from Alaska. The death count would only increase because of heat stroke and dehydration. My fellow Scouts and I only managed to survive by drinking several gallons of water and Gatorade every day. But we did survive and had an awesome time doing it.
My hard times in Scouts weren't limited to our survival; we also had a social dilemma on our hands. Don't think we weren't aware of how much people made fun of us. As a small bit of defiance, at the Washington, D.C., airport we yelled into a crowd, "Look at me, I'm a Boy Scout!" We also went the opposite direction of the crowd and tried to look as non-Scout as possible by refusing to wear our regulation uniform.
Although Boy Scouts wasn't exactly the hippest club in town, I had countless memorable experiences, and I don't regret a single one - except for not killing a bear.
Dan MacArthur is a sophomore news-editorial major. You can reach him at danmacarthur@dailynebraskan.com.
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