Camp Kiowa

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Most every boy should get to experience America’s Boy Scouts,
It’s a fine group that helps us be prepared for life’s ins and outs.
This poem describes some of the activities that helped me a lot,
And a couple of extraneous activities that weren’t so hot.

 

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Camp Kiowa

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Camp Kiowa was a Boy Scout Camp north of Canadian,Texas.
Near where the Canadian River and the green forest area mixes.
The area was donated to the Scouts by a wealthy land owner
Who believed in teaching young boys of God, Trust, and Honor.

 

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They had a central mess hall where we all took our meals,
And a lake for swimming, canoeing, and fishing, with real appeal.
There was also nice facilities for Order of the Arrow awards
And other scout activities necessary for other Scout rewards.

 

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Every year, Troop 77 would stay two weeks there camping out.
We worked on merit badges of all kinds to progress as a Scout.
And had a swim and canoe trip in the lake at our time in the day,
Enjoying ourselves tremendously there at work and at play.

 

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At night we would take unescorted trips in the woods alone,
And often see big scary green eyes watching us like glowing stones.
We thought they were wolves, or bears, or even mountain lions,
But likely they were just deer more scared of humans and dying.

 

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Sometimes we cooked breakfast at our own camp site,
Each boy had a job to cook or clean up to do the job right.
It was fun and we found out we could cook better than we thought.
It was much better to work together than if we had fought.

 

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We learned how to use the compass to get out of the woods,
And how to find the North Star and other things that were good.
We even had exercises when they took us into the forest,
And we had to find our way out or be lost for good on the test.

 

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There was lots of poison ivy and poison oak in the woods there.
We all laid in it some, but never seemed get rashes anywhere.
We spend time during the day catching non poisonous snakes,
That we kept in a pillow case so later a lot of fun we could make.

 

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Some of the boys, but not me, slipped them in sleeping bags,
Then staked out the area at bedtime, a new victim to tag.
They watched as the victim crawled in bed with a cold snake,
Jumping in high gear to get out and the sleeping bag then shake.

 

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Occasionally, when someone was sleeping peacefully in their bag,
A culprit would warm a bowl of water and move in for a gag,
Slowly, they would slip his left hand into the very warm water,
And nearly every time it would open the strings to the bladder.

 

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We always had a spare sleeping bag because of the things boys do.
We mostly were good and it helped us all later in our lives too.
Every job interviewer I had after graduating from college school,
Asked if I was in Boy Scouts and then said that was real cool.

 

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By Bill

 

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Thanks for reading Camp Kiowa,
Bill