A stalwart contingent of ten Scouts (Dylan Kirk (SPL), Jeremy Fong, Cameron Vansoest, Robert Shirley, James Shirley, Anthony Wake, Damian Thomson, Tariq Celeste, Zak Kazee and Donovan Barr), seven Adults (Bill Kirk, Ted Celeste, Nancy Celeste, Rob Fong, Eagle Scout Anthony Fong, Dennis Kazee and John Barr) and honorary Scout, Jasmine Celeste braved the Point Reyes peninsula on Saturday, October 3---a day which may become known as the windiest day in Troop 259 history. We departed Sacramento in stages beginning at 8:45 a.m. and arrived in similar fashion at our Point Reyes campsite starting in the early afternoon.
Each successive arrival group set up their tents in what started out as simply a steady and very inconvenient wind---just this side of gale force. As the afternoon wore on, it became clear the wind had no intention of letting up. Nonetheless, the first group of Scouts were buoyed by memories of prior visits to Point Reyes. Still hopeful despite the wind, after setting up their tents they eagerly approached the beach. Although we had learned from the Ranger at the Bear Valley Visitor Station that no fires were allowed based on high winds, we hit the beach undaunted and certain that no mere wind could deflate our visions of digging, romping and wave dodging on the beach. Little did we know what awaited us there....
The blowing sand penetrated like tiny needle points on any bare skin. And it was no ordinary sand---only the coarsest grade would do to enhance the wind-driven slicing and dicing that occurred on the beach that day. The wind and sand pushed us down the beach from behind, giving us a mere taste of what we would face when we turned into it to make our way back to the camp site. Needless to say, we didn't stay long, retreating to the relative safety of tent interiors. A rousing card game sprang up with untold numbers of Scouts who somehow managed to squeeze into one of the black and yellow Eureka 3XT Troop tents.
Dinner became an exercise in futility. Water was virtually impossible to boil in the wind. The heat of the flames could barely reach the underside of the pots. A few managed to warm up their Ramen and other noodle forms, plus some Jambalaya, while the final wave of campers struggled with their tents. But the wind was unrelenting blowing at 25-30 mph (gusts easily to 45 mph). The last of the tents went up, only to be buffeted beyond the tensile strength of poles and fabric.
There were brief moments of respite---seconds actually---when it appeared all tents might actually stand up against the wind. Then the undoing began. First, one pole, then a second, followed by torn fly fabric. Repair and relocation attempts failed as the wind seemed to be blowing from all directions simultaneously. Two tents were lost that day, with a third bowed and bent in the face of the steady onslaught. In the waning moments of daylight, the decision became clear. Despite valiant efforts to save the tents, it was time to undo what we had done and make our escape. With the sun descending below the dune tops, there was little hesitation to pull the plug.
Inside 30 minutes, as if well practiced in this kind of drill, all in the party were completely packed up for departure. Leaving no trace, we began a trudging 3-mile hike into the aforementioned wind, the darkness partially illuminated by the glow of a full moon. During the evacuation and en route to the parking area from whence we came, it was heard at least once, "Sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug." Perhaps encouraged by that life lesson, all were spurred on by the recognition that even bugs have to eat.
Fortunately, even without GSP devices, our Scouts are masters in nighttime navigation, possessing an uncanny ability to remember all of the key landmarks en route home---meaning the exact location of all the In and Out Burger and KFC joints between Petaluma and Sacramento. Even at 10:30 at night, each vehicle found its own port of call for replenishment---our small contingent chose the Fairfield In and Out Burger. Or should I say Fairfield seemed to have chosen us. Based on the number of stops we have made there over the years, no doubt "Troop 259" could easily be permanently etched on their wall of honor. After the ceremonial downing of multiple Double-Doubles and fries, chased with sodas and shakes, the last 40 miles toward home were quiet and reflective---the inevitable product of full bellies and fatigue. Indeed, a good time was had by all.
The trip provided many opportunities and challenges. But it is one that will no doubt be remembered and talked about by those who were there for many years to come. As one Scout noted for his optimism said, "This was the best trip ever!"
Bill Kirk
