On becoming a Cubmaster

I’ve been participating in my son’s Cub Scout pack since we joined three years ago. Owing to my experience as a Boy Scout, I was nearly immediately tapped to lead the Tiger Den Nathan’s first year. I’ve since continued to follow Nathan as his Den leader through Wolf and Bear.

For those not familiar with Cub Scouts, boys are members of Packs which are then broken into Dens by grade level. The pack we joined has had 20 or fewer scouts the whole time we’ve been there. Nathan’s den for the last two years has averaged 4-5 boys.

Toward the end of last year, it became clear that I was the most likely parent or leader to take the reigns for the pack as the Cubmaster. The other parents were either clearly personally uncomfortable with the idea of leading the pack, or in one case completely over committed with other Scouting activities.

So early last spring I told Dan, the previous Cubmaster, that I was willing to take the role, if he would help me transition into it during the end of the school/program year. He agreed, but honestly wasn’t organized enough to do much transitioning. He didn’t think far enough in advance to say to himself, “Hmm, I’ll bet Rick would like to learn how to do this. I’ll call him.” No, Dan flies by the seat of his pants 90% of the time, and as a result, I got little in the way of preparation for my role.

At our final pack meeting of the school year last June, Dan announced to the pack that he was stepping down (his son had left the pack in March to join a Boy Scout troop), and that I would take over as Cubmaster. I was tickled by the warm applause. Anne later told me that someone leaned in to her after Dan’s announcement and said “Oh good!”

I procrastinated most of the summer, choosing to fill it with vacations galore and other cool stuff. As the school year approached, I tried to touch base with Dan to go over final transition tasks. He told me he wanted to continue to help out as the assistant Cubmaster for a few more months. Was he crazy? Very likely, yes. Did I appreciate the help? Hell Yes!

When I was at a training class to learn how to recruit at elementary schools, a leader from a pack that meets 0.5 miles from us asked me if I would be recruiting at a school that was moving into the neighborhood. Well crap, I thought to myself. My kids go to that school! Why didn’t I think of that? After comparing sizes of packs (mine around 15, his at 50+) he agreed that I could recruit at the school, and he would leave it alone.

A few days later, I spoke to the principle, reminding her that I had kids there, and asked about various recruiting possibilities: talking to kids during the day, sending fliers home with the kids, and putting a yard sign in front of the school. To my astonishment, she said yes to all of them.

The principle suggested that I talk to the kids during the lunch hours rather than in classrooms since I would be less likely to miss a class due to their crazy schedules. At three different lunch periods, I waited until all the kids were seated and eating, then a teacher introduced me to the quieted cafeteria. I told the kids who I was and why I was there. When I told them about upcoming events like “shooting BB guns” I had them hooked. It was hard to get to “camping at the Crew Stadium” and “Halloween camping” without quieting the excited talking. When I was done with my spiel at one lunch, a woman teacher said “I’ve got just one question. Why can’t girls join!?!” to which many of the girls in the room loudly agreed “Yeah!”.

The flier that went home had an informational meeting listed for the next Wednesday. In previous years we’d gotten maybe 5 new scouts. I figured materials and information packs for 15 would leave me with extra for stragglers who would show up later. I arranged about 20 chairs in a circle, and had to add to it twice as people kept streaming in. I handed out all 15 information packs and had 4 or 5 parents who were left with only a promise that I would e-mail it to them (which I did, of course). I got 16 new scout applications that night, officially doubling the size of the pack. At the end of the night, after dealing with the money and paperwork, Dan looked at me with a broad smile and said “Well done, sir.”

That was a week ago. This week, the phone calls and e-mails continued to stream in from interested parents. “I’m sorry we missed last week. My son is really interested” several exclaimed. “Is it too late to join?” I reassured them it was not too late. We’d love to have them. As my spreadsheet of scouts passed 35, 36, 37, I got nervous about what little planning I’d done so far, and how little I’d involved the other parent leaders.  We met on Sunday to plan for the coming Wednesday (today), and a few weeks out. There was nervous excitement about the new size of the pack–the kind of giddiness that comes from anticipating something new yet familiar.

Today we had everyone together in the same room for the first time–new and returning scouts. The returning scouts had been off in their own den meetings the previous week while Dan and I wooed new parents. Many of the returning parents were a bit stunned to see the crowd of new faces jammed into our smallish meeting room. We had 39 boys show up tonight. And some familiar faces were absent. We might be 42-44 strong before next week. Even if we lose some down to 35, that is still a very comfortably sized Pack. I don’t feel like we’re just barely clinging to the cliff-edge of existence.

To give you an idea just how badly I’d underestimated the size and enthusiasm of the new pack (it really does feel like a New pack), I created a sign-up sheet for the bb-gun activity with 12 lines on it. The form is overflowing with 21 families committed, totaling 42 participants (non-scout siblings are allowed).

In the previous years, especially the Tiger and Wolf years, I struggled with my role as den leader. I really didn’t feel like I was organized enough, was enthusiastic enough, or that I had enough help from parents. I lacked confidence in my ability to lead the dens. Today, with the help of 5 other parent/leaders, we had a great meeting to kick off a fun year.  I’m actually looking forward to it.

The Road to Albannach

A few weeks ago, Anne was surfing (I think on Youtube, she’s not sure) and something in the intarwebs suggested that she might be interested in the “Scottish tribal drumming band” Albannach. She shared a video (like this one) with me and we were immediately hooked. We looked up their schedule, and as luck would have it, they would be in Ohio in only a couple of weeks.
The venue was something we’d never heard of before–the Piqua Heritage Festival. When we first saw the heritage festival web site there was no schedule of activities–it was just a couple of pictures and a listing of committees. By looking at the committee directory, with three different re-enactors committees, and a bunch of other interesting stuff, combined with the incredibly cheap $2 entrance fee (FREE PARKING!), decided we had little to lose. We were also intrigued by the designation as a “Top 100 in 2009” destination by the American Bus Association. Again, we’d never heard of the ABA, but it sounded like a fascinating organization, and we spent too much time one night perusing the 2009 listing. This is where we learned that the Piqua Heritage Festival draws 100,000 visitors each year. It astounded us that an event of that size only 90 minutes from home was completely unknown to us. We had to go find out.
Anne started looking for a way to make a camping weekend out of it. With all our activities this summer, we hadn’t been camping at all, and we didn’t have anything planned for the weekend weekend of the festival, Labor Day weekend. She quickly identified Kiser Lake State Park as state park closest to the event, and it seemed to have a significant proportion of non-electric camp sites for those of us who don’t want to go recreational parking.
About that time, we also decided to invite some friends, the Koontzes, since doing this kind of stuff is always more fun with a bit of a crowd. Eventually all the plans fell into place and Anne and I departed with our two kids plus two of the Koontzes’ on Friday evening. We scarfed some dinner on the way and got to our camp site just in time to set up the tents without the need of automobile headlights.
The original plan was to head to the festival on Saturday, but since the remaining Koontzes got out of town a bit later than expected, we decided to chill at the campground and lake side for the day.

Sunday, after breakfast and cleaning up, we departed for the festival. We wound our way though the beautiful downtown of Piqua (and fell in love with a firehouse turned into a home) and out to the festival grounds. When we tried to give them $12 for admission (two Koontzes and the four of us) we were informed that kids were free, and that we needed only pay $4. Holy Crap! Beer cost more than that at the Dublin Irish Festival!

By the time we met up with the remaining Kootzes, it was noon, and Albannach would be playing at 1PM. So we ventured out to find some grub and were pleasantly surprised to find very reasonably priced fare. My family ate for under $27 which is cheaper than we get out of most fast food. The food vendors were, with only a couple of exceptions, non-profit groups (like a Boy Scout troop) selling food as fund raisers. We ate in the tent where Albannach was to perform, and watched as the seats quickly filled in around us, leaving two or three rows of standing-room-only people just outside the tent. Given the fun we’ve had with other live acts, we were a bit disappointed that there were seats all the way up to the stage. It would have been fun to have been head banging with the band. Regardless, their performance did not disappoint–their energy was incredible, and the music as primal. Of course I took a number of pictures, but I think this one really captures the moment well. This guy was a constant blur of motion and was pouring everything he had into his performance.

After we left the Albannach performance, we wandered around a bit more, visiting a petting zoo, perusing a car show, glimpsing the canal boat and wandering through the massive re-enactor encampment. As we were going down one aisle of the encampment, Emily commented “I feel like we’re intruding” and I agreed with her. It was clearly meant for visitors to wander into, but it also had an intimate feeling because the period canvas tents were typically wide open to allow circulation in the warm afternoon sun. These folks were doing everything they could to play the heritage role they had signed up for during the entire festival. And I thought we were roughing it in our campsite!

We were at the festival for about 4.5 hours and experienced maybe 10% of what it had to offer. There were a lot of merchants we didn’t get to, tons of performers we didn’t see, and a rodeo that we only smelled from afar. I think it would be fun to go again, but I think camping just added a bit to the burden of the day. Had we been leaving from home, we probably could have been to the festival by 10AM and left at close. We’ve done much the same thing (with a slightly shorter drive) when we’ve done the Renaissance Fair.

We got back to camp, and had a leisurely dinner of pie-iron pizza sandwiches, and just hung out by the fire.

As the kids were going to bed, a bonehead two sites away started loading firewood into his pickup truck by throwing the pieces into the bed with a jolting boom that echoed off the valley walls. I walked down and requested “Hey, we’ve got kids going to sleep. Would you mind not throwing the wood in the truck. Its really loud.” The punk who’d been doing the throwing just looked at me dumbfounded, probably because of my complex request. An older man calls from the shadows “Quiet hour ain’t until 10″ to which I replied “I understand, and that’s why I’m politely requesting, as a courtesy.” Surprisingly, they finished the wood loading with barely a thud. An hour later, the stereo from the site next to ours was loud enough that I could easily hear the lyrics. I asked them if they could turn it down and they were apologetic and obliged by turning it off. I’ve decided that I want camp grounds that are well maintained but barely ever used, and with tons of space between me and the next camper (who’s just as courteous as I am), with water that’s close by, no unnecessary lights on the buildings, and beautiful scenery within a 10 minute walk. Is that too much to ask? Kiser lake turned out to be pretty heavy on the RV/Camper crowd and pretty busy, but that isn’t a surprise for a holiday weekend.

Just as the adults were heading to bed Sunday night, we started to feel drops of rain. The lightning woke us up around 5AM and the rain didn’t let up until we decided to scrap our dutch-oven breakfast and head toward Bob Evans. When we returned to camp, only the leaves were raining on us. We packed up our wet, muddy gear and headed home. Here are all of the pictures that were fit to post.