Camp Concussion

Back in the early 80’s I was a Boy Scout. You bet your sweet ass I’ve been camping.

I don’t think I was ever very good at it, if that’s even a thing. I always enjoyed the little trips. Tents, cabins, whatever. Tents in the winter time are a pretty sucky experience. Warm cabins? Now we’re talking. Except for that one time.

It was the dead of winter. The weather was super cold but the cabin was warm. The lake was frozen and we were going to try ice fishing. First we tried sledding down the steep, icy hill that had the path from the cabin to the lake. I wasn’t the first to go. The adventurous, athletic types lined up to go first. I was the awkward fat kid and I stayed near the back of the line.

All of the other guys were laying down on the sled and going head first. They were flying down that hill at crazy speeds. I was too chicken for that. I sat upright with my ass toward the back. My first run down the hill was awesome, at first. Then gravity combined with a really low coefficient of friction conspired to do their thing. The weight was at the back of the sled and wouldn’t you know it, the sucker spun around. I was now flying down the hill at a million miles an hour (estimated) backwards. It was exhilarating. Until the tree, at least.

I hit a tree while traveling at about Warp 8.5. Slam. Crash. My head slammed into the tree, very hard. I didn’t pass out, but it knocked me for a loop, I tells ya. Ouch town, population me, Bro. The adults packed me into someone’s car and drove me to a doctor. I had a concussion. I was a tad loopy for a day or two. I slept well, at least.

I don’t remember if that was my last Scout camping trip or not. It might have been. It would probably make a better story if it were. I quit the Boy Scouts when I was in the eighth grade. I gave it another try about a year later, but I didn’t last long enough to go on any camping trips. I am pretty sure that this concussion was my second and last. I was six when I had the first one and that was ice-related too, but I’ll share that story another day.

I guess the follow up question here is would I ever want to go camping again. The answer is never say never, but it’s a safe bet I have packed my last tent. Done and done.