Since Mrs. Boone was a busy lawyer, and since cooking was not one of her favorite activities, the Boones dined out most nights. Monday was always Italian food at Robilio’s. Tuesday they ate while volunteering at the homeless shelter. Wednesday was Chinese carryout, which was perhaps Theo’s favorite because they ate on trays in the den and watched television. It was Judge’s favorite too because he loved sweet-and-sour pork.
And Thursday meant roasted chicken at a small Turkish café. This Thursday, though, Theo really wasn’t in the mood for it. He had a busy night ahead of him as he needed to carefully arrange his hiking and camping supplies. Mrs. Boone had a six o’clock appointment and would be working late, so Theo convinced his dad to go see the Dragon Lady again and pick up some carry-out.
After dinner, Theo hurried upstairs to his bedroom and began laying out his equipment and supplies. For Christmas and birthdays he always asked for scouting and camping gear. As an only child, he realized he was lucky to have more stuff than most kids, though he was careful to never show it. He found his “Ultralight Backpacking Checklist” and started an inventory. The Major was a fanatic about lightweight and efficient packing and believed that no backpack should weigh over thirty pounds. He would weigh each one at the VFW tomorrow before they boarded the bus.
Theo’s backpack was a superlight, nylon contoured pack with padded straps, a hip belt, and eleven external pockets. It weighed three-and-a-half pounds. His tent was a quarter-dome one-person tent, also made of nylon and ultralight. It weighed three pounds and when erected would provide twenty square feet of floor area, more than enough room. His sleeping bag was an insulated, three-season bag that weighed two-and-a-half pounds and was fine for weather above thirty degrees. The weekend forecast was mild. The sleeping pad was a roll of foam that weighed ten ounces. The rain fly was nothing more than a sheet of plastic that weighed one pound, including hubbed poles.
The Major frowned on meals that had to be cooked because too many supplies were needed, so there was too much to carry. Instead, he favored ready-to-eat foods and energy bars. Theo had planned six meals: one for Friday dinner, three on Saturday, and breakfast and lunch on Sunday. With his allowance, he had purchased three packs of freeze-dried chicken and noodles, two packs of chili mac and cheese, two packs of breakfast waffles, and two packs of beef stroganoff with noodles. Just add hot water and the meals were ready to eat. He also had a dozen energy bars. It was probably a little too much, but it was also wise to have extra food. Out of the fifteen Scouts headed for the weekend, Theo knew that at least two would run out of food. His groceries weighed two-and-a-half pounds. His plastic cookset included a two-liter pot, two bowls, two mugs, a knife, fork, and spoon, all together weighing only one-and-a-half pounds.
Since they would be hiking a fixed trail, the Major said they would not have to worry about navigation. Theo looked at his checklist and crossed off the map, compass, and GPS. He also knew that the Major would carry a small GPS and a cell phone.
Back to the checklist: flashlight, batteries, lip balm, sunscreen, extra asthma inhaler, knife, first aid kit, water bottle, matches, fire starter, and toilet paper in a small waterproof container. His clothing consisted of what he would wear into the woods Friday afternoon, plus two shirts and one pair of pants, socks, underwear, a poncho for rain, a vest, and gloves. He had no plans to pack a toothbrush and toothpaste — what a waste of space! His hiking boots were waterproof, and since he was wearing them their weight didn’t count. Only the gear that went into his backpack was included in the Major’s thirty-pound limit.
With great care, Theo placed the gear and supplies into the backpack. As always, there wasn’t a square inch to spare, but it zipped up without too much trouble. He hauled it downstairs, showed it proudly to his parents, who were reading in the library, then asked them if he could use their bathroom scale. The backpack weighed thirty-two pounds, and Theo hauled it back upstairs, unpacked it, laid everything out on his bed, read the checklist again, and argued with himself about what to delete. He was deep in thought and mumbling a lot, and Judge looked at him curiously. He removed a shirt, a pair of socks, and two packs of food. He removed the rain fly because the forecast was for clear skies, plus he figured he could just stay in his tent in the event of a shower.
Back downstairs, he was headed for the scale again when his mother said, as only a mother can, “Teddy, dear, do you really think you’re going to be safe out there?”
His father said, “Come on, Marcella, we’ve already had this conversation.”
Theo knew his mother was not about to veto his weekend, that she was just going through the motions of being a concerned mother, but he politely said, “Sure, Mom. This is no big deal. We’re all experienced Scouts and you trust the Major, don’t you?”
“I suppose,” she said.
“He’ll be fine,” his father said. Theo suspected they were secretly planning a quiet weekend without him. He wouldn’t be missed.
The second weigh-in was at thirty-and-a-half pounds. Theo decided to leave things alone. Surely the Major would bend on half a pound.
Chapter 7
Friday morning, the last day of the dreadful tests. The ordeal was almost over, and Theo was so excited about the weekend he demolished his Cheerios and left home ten minutes early.
The mood was considerably lighter as the eighth graders gathered in the auditorium. Pete had a smile on his face, the first of the week. April smiled and nodded at Theo from across the room. The teachers passed out the exams, and at precisely nine o’clock they began. Theo attacked the test as never before, as if the clock would move faster if he kicked into high gear. It did not, but for the first time all week he felt comfortable with the material. The morning session was all about history, an easy subject for Theo. He nailed one question after another.
At 12:30, it was over. The proctor called “Time,” thanked the students for their hard work and diligent efforts and on and on, and told them to go have lunch. At 1:30, they were dismissed early, and fifteen minutes later, Theo was at the VFW with the other Scouts, all chatty and excited and ready to go. His father had delivered his backpack and a change of clothes. The Major was barking orders here and there, going through his usual drill sergeant routine, but he, too, was eager to hit the road. He weighed each backpack — Theo’s came in at thirty pounds, two ounces — and growled at Woody and Hardie who were two pounds over. They quickly unpacked, discarded a few items, and made the limit. All in all, the Major was pleased that his boys had packed so carefully. He went through a checklist to make sure each had included the essentials — primarily food and toilet paper — and told them to load up. They piled everything into the Troop 1440 bus, one bought from the school district and painted Army green, and by 2:30 they were leaving Strattenburg with the Major at the wheel and the fifteen Scouts whooping and hollering. They settled down once the town was behind them and most fell asleep.
Two hours later they rolled into the Sassaqua National Park. A ranger directed the Major to a spot to leave the bus, checked the boys into the register, showed them where the new trail began, and suggested a camping spot five miles in. The first stretch was easy and he was certain they could make it before dark. “Good luck,” he said as they slung their backpacks onto their shoulders. As they hurried away, he said, “Watch out for the bears. They’re everywhere.”
The Major took the lead and set a furious pace. He was sixty years old, exercised every day, and could do more push-ups and sit-ups nonstop than any of his Scouts. Within twenty minutes, they were sweating and breathing heavy. But they pressed on as the shadows grew longer. Things were darker in the dense woods. The trail was narrow, in many places less than two feet wide, with gullies and ravines on both sides. They began a gradual incline that seemed to go on for miles, and when they reached the top the Sassaqua River could be seen in the distance. “We need to hurry,” the Major said after a quick rest. The trail curled through the woods and went downhill. A few rays of fading sunlight lit the campsite as they arrived, and they hurriedly unpacked and got organized. The Major laid out a tight circle around a fire pit, built a fire, and began boiling water, barking orders nonstop. The boys quickly assembled their small tents.