Newspapers, The Further Adventures of Troop 14, LaSalle Parish, La. Submitted by Jack Willis Date: 11 Oct 2004 Source:Grass Roots and Cockleburrs Date: 4 Aug 2004 ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** The Further Adventures of Troop 14, Part II The various Scoutmasters that Jena's Troop 14 were blessed with made doubly sure that we had plenty of Official Scouting activities to keep up busy working towards our merit badge and enabling us to advance in rank. Every outdoors activity, whether it be a 12-mile hike or an overnight Camporee was geared to acquiring outdoors skills as ordained by the Scout Handbook. It was our Bible so to speak and the powers-that-be insisted on strict adherence of its principle and guidelines contained therein. A golden opportunity arose at a weekly Monday night meeting with the proposal for the Troop to make a surge on Trout Creek at White Sulphur Springs for an overnight campout. If one were going to set out to design the ultimate Deep South swimming hole it could very well have been this now former recreation spot on Trout Creek. It not only had depth for diving, a sandy beach for games of "bulligator," but some enterprising soul had nailed board rungs about 40 feet up on a tall slender cypress tree on the north bank and attached a rope to a limb projecting out over the creek. Naturally, the first thing you had to do was learn to dive off of the rope, which ain't no easy task until, you learn to kick your feet forward while you're sailing out over the creek. When your legs swing back, then you look down, turn loose and plunge into the creek just like Johnny Weismuller, who portrayed Tarzan in the movies for years. For that evening meal on Friday night everyone was to bring sandwiches from home while the Scoutmaster and Group Leaders had scrounged up 22 ice cream freezers for home made ice cream for dessert. For about an hour just before dark you could see Boy Scouts humped up all over that creek bank and camping area cranking the handles on the multiple ice cream producers. After everyone had rounded their side on homemade ice cream, Mr. John Moses, the Scoutmaster, treated us to a demonstration of various birdcalls, with him even calling a screech owl into a tree just outside the campfire light. When the real thing silently flew in and cut loose with its hair-raising screech everyone almost sought the protection of his pup tent. Later, after much begging, the powers that be relented and allowed us to have an hour long swim just before bedtime. Looking back now, I see how foolish that was, since someone could have drowned with out anyone being the wiser. Around eleven o'clock we crawled out of the swimming hole for headcount and had started towards our bedrolls when we heard an automobile coming down an old deep-rutted wagon road above the swimming hole. In a minute we could see the headlights of an approaching car, and then a brand new Chevrolet 1948 Model Fleetline car hove into view and pulled up on the bank of the swimming hole. Two old boys who were about half drunk said they were from up in Caldwell Parish and decided they wanted to go swimming, so they decided to head for White Sulphur Springs, and now here they were aggravating us in the middle of the night. About then one of them said. "You want to see the fish we caught?" and gullible us said, "Yeah, yeah!" Dan Andrews and I were standing side-by-side, sopping wet when the driver said they were on the floorboard behind the front seat. We leaned up against the car peering in trying to see the fish with the aid of the car's dome light. Unknown to us, these two fun-loving ol' boys had taken the coil out of an old Model T car and wired it up to the frame and body of the car. The driver saw us leaning against the car and flipped a hidden switch resulting in the electrical jolt Dan and I received causing us to scream out like the screech owl we had heard earlier. Laughing like something wild, the driver slapped the new Chevy in gear, popped the clutch and floor boarded the accelerator and off out towards Highway 8 they sped. We went on to our tents and went to bed, but it took about two hours for my hair to lie down. GR&C (8-04-04) JMW