by Heidi Lobecker

Remember when it rained all weekend?

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It was raining when 40 boys, 36 Dads, and 5 Moms set up their tents on a September night at Allamuchy Scout camp. As the tarps went up, the water came down. The scouts made s’mores for dessert; the campfire chairs got wet around the fire.

“Not so bad yet,” said Campmaster Bill, with his ever-present grin.

The heavy grey clouds broke wide open in the middle of the night. The rapid-fire drops on the tent, like the BB Guns they shot that afternoon, woke up Alex and CJ.

“Will the rain get in?” wondered Alex. The rat-tat-a-tat on the tarp was no more than six inches from his nose.

The morning light revealed Campmaster Bill, his yellow slicker bright and wet, starting the coffee and eggs. The rain dripped down his neck before he put up his hood, the water collecting in puddles by the fire.

“Not so bad yet,” he said, his eyes twinkling with delight.

The boys promised to do their best and hiked up a muddy hill to shoot arrows. The arrow slick in his hands, Alex got a bulls-eye.

Next, the boys raced to the fishing spot, splashing and sliding the whole way. CJ caught the biggest fish in the whole world.

“Wow,” said CJ, “can I get another one?”

“Sure,” said Campmaster Bill, “it’s catch and release,” as the thunder rumbled behind him.

With soggy socks and pointy sticks, the boys took off for Rock Island. Skidding on soppy slopes, they found the secret path and spied on the camp next door. As the trees dribbled on their heads, the parents got tacos and rice ready in dutch ovens, the fire hissing and spitting in the damp.

“Not so bad,” said Campmaster Bill, wiping a drip off his nose.

They did their skits inside the humid canteen; the Infant-tree scared the crowd, the smart ass-tronauts were outwitted, and everyone agreed Campmaster Bill was nutz.

As they packed up the tents, there was not a dry scout in sight.

“Can we go to Rock Island one last time?”

The boys sloshed their way to discoveries as parents packed up the waterlogged gear into sodden carts.

“That wasn’t so bad,” said Campmaster Bill, “just a little rain.”

“It rained? ” said Alex

“When?” asked CJ. “I don’t remember that.”