By the humblest Michael K.
Chapter I: 早上
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. I woke up at 4:05 AM to the sound of my annoying alarm clock. Fatigued and dizzy, I stumbled downstairs trying not to wake up my eldest brother, Andrew. As a Super Scout, I had prepared the night before so my bags were completely packed. I quickly downed a bowl of raisin bran cereal (cereal THEN milk) and dressed in FULL Class A+ attire (-hat, -shorts). I prepared my teeth and face to the high standards of the day and proceeded to pick up the evasive Andrew S. from his house on McLean VA. I arrived promptly at 4:30 to pick him up as was the agreed upon time. However, to my great disappointment, he was awoken by my knocks and persistent doorbell presses. No greater shame is there in the Boy Scouts than to be late by 15!!! MINUTES. Anyway, due to this unfortunate series of events, we were the SECOND TO LAST (behind the Ye family van) to arrive at St. Francis.
Chapter II: 驱动器
The highest Jiaming Z., our fearless Senior Patrol Leader, graciously bestowed upon me the duty to lead the first contingent (9:30 slot) in our battle with the ancient whitewater. The first of many of my falls from grace occurred precisely at our departure when I left behind my day supply of food in the parking lot. WOE TO ME! HEAR MY PRAYERS JIAMING! FORGIVE MY CLUMSINESS!
The arduous journey to Ohiopyle, West Virginia totaled 3.5 hours on the road. In addition, our car (Mr. & Mrs. Ye) arrived a whopping 30 MINUTES! after the other three cars. This was due to the irregular number of stops we had (3) for bathroom breaks. Many prostrates were given to the early arrivers for our untimeliness.
Since I had been starved of both food and drink for the length of the car ride, I quickly consumed 1 sandwich (prosciutto, mozzarella di bufala, basil, olive oil, Roma tomato on a French baguette), and ~5.5 peanuts, ~8 fl oz of Deer Spring’s bottled water (17 fl oz total). Satiated and with cheer restored, our personal guide outfitted our contingent with battle armor (1 red standard issue PFD, 1 orange and purple standard issue ~8 ft paddle, and 1 yellow standard issue helmet). He gave us strategic instruction for our mission as well as safety guidelines (war is bloody). After that, we loaded onto our neon yellow school bus (retrofitted for stealth) and drove off into the Evil forest…
Chapter III: 战斗
“Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.” – Sun Tzu, Art of War
Windy roads merge with dawn. The bus ride was full of political jabs and deep bonding. When we arrived, I used my SAT-approved method of division to assign scouts into rafts of five and six. There was one boat, however, that held the greatest warriors of all: Juan D. (former SPL, dictator for life), James Y. (former SPL, master of the climbing pegboard, master in ice climbing(foam version)), William N. (cryptocurrency miner, political pundit, and Brave-hater), Taylor R. (SPL hopeful 3x in a row, honor roll candidate, comedian), Andrew S.(disgrace: see above), and Michael K. (former SPL, ‘The Great Reformer’, decorated soldier).
As we started down the river, my fellow soldiers noticed my yellow drybag full. They inquired and I told all of my great food and water stores. I also recounted the contents of my Monster backpack: 1 100 ft rope, 1 compass, 1 first aid kit, 1 headlamp, 1 dry clothes, 1 cellular device, 1 charge for cellular device, 3 pieces standard issue gum, 1 watch, 1 glasses lanyard, 1 (list continues….). They laughed and said “Ok Mr. Ye”. Shame on me for being prepared…
But antics aside, we battled class II, III, and IV!!!! rapids with short respites to feel the cool water and laugh in hushed tones. The battle came in short bursts of speed which tested our strength to the MAX. At several unfortunate moments, I dropped or hit the unfortunate William N. with my paddle. More jabs. More shame. However, our guide escorted us and prevented our doom. GLORY TO TROOP 55!
After our Great Challenge, we stopped along the riverbank for a break. The contingent bathed in the cool water and jumped off a High Rock as a test of will and initiation. We continued on for another 1 hour (total: 2 hours) until we reached the landing site. (This description of the goings is intentionally brief. The tales told in our boat are enough to fill another book and may solicit permission for their use here.)
Chapter IV: 超越山脉
With our battle concluded, we carried the rafts up to the bus and departed. Our glory and triumph was a visible sight in our countenance. I was quick to notice the ripped nature of my sorry swim trunks. The rocks and friction of the boat must have been too much for my hand-me-down blue standard issue swim trunks. I lost face once more but my fellow scouts are a forgiving bunch.
The bus ride was less formidable than the first which was a welcome change. Many words were exchanged of the mysterious ‘Bitcoin’ and other financial topics that went over my uneducated head. The ride was nonetheless a joy.
Chapter V: A Word on Sunday Service
Upon arriving back at our cars, we made quick work of changing into dry clothes. Once dry, we replenished our energy stores with more food and drink. We met the second contingent led by JIAMING Z. en route to the next battle. After many words of battle and gifts were exchanged, James Y. and I inquired as to the status of Sunday Service, a time honored tradition. However, during our inquiry, many of our contingent dispersed and drove off. HOW RUDE! What great shame they have displayed!
With a diminished reserve of soldiers, we decided to have Sunday Service ‘in our cars’ ;). We made sure Jiaming would never forget this occasion. As his bus drove off, we yelled to ensure of their eventual Sunday Service as redemption to our folly. We also checked every bus member’s temperature to ensure the containment of the CORONAVIRUS-2019.
Chapter VI: 返回
With our journey coming to an end, we retired to the Ye caravan. I continued and finished the First Class Scout Skills Examination for Andy T. with the first-aid expertise of James Y.. After 3 more stops for food (McDonald’s) and bathroom, we arrived at Forestville Elementary School at a delayed time of 4:55 PM. Nearly 12 hours of thrill and excitement had come to a close with the blink of an eye.
Epilogue: 时间
With another Troop 55 classic finished, this journey reminded me of a poem by Dylan Thomas titled ‘Do not go gentle into that good night':
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
