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This post is the start of a series of posts summarizing a recent backpacking trek along a section of the Pacific Crest Trail (or PCT as it is known), which extends 2,627 miles from the Mexican border to the Canadian border. I was priviledged to share the trail with four others from Boy Scout Troop 259 in Sacramento, CA, where I am the current Scoutmaster. Others in our party included Ike Krieg (Assistant Scoutmaster), Matthew Puliz (Eagle Scout), Mark Matney (Eagle Scout) and Joseph Krieg (Star Scout).

As treks along the PCT go, our six-day trek was relatively short by comparison, covering only about 66 miles. Many others have hiked far longer stretches, including the full length either on one trip or in pieces. But I would have to say, the 66 miles we covered were plenty challenging enough to create memories that we will no doubt be talking about for a long time---including how much we might have left behind to lighten our packs.

Before striking out on the trail on July 30, we overnighted at the Thompson cabin near Echo Lake, about 1.3 miles from the trailhead at the Echo Lake spillway. We were grateful for the hospitality---a huge loft with plenty of flat space to bunk our group on July 29.

That layover night was money in the bank on two accounts. First, we had a chance encounter with three "through trekkers" who had left Mexico two months before and were on their way to Canada. Their packs looked like not much more than day packs compared to our over 50-pound packs. Second, the layover allowed us to acclimate to the elevation at around 7,500 feet before kicking it up a few notches on the trail.

Hereafter, the action will be in the present tense.

Tonight (July 29), we are eating our sack dinners as our last meal before embarking tomorrow. Having a little time on our hands, we are also jettisoning some non-essentials from our packs to get our pack weight down---probably not nearly enough but it's a start: Camp shoes, gone. Fleece sleeping bag liner, gone. Three small fuel cannisters, gone. 50 feet of climbing rope, gone. Long Johns, gone. I'm feeling better (and lighter) already.

DAY ONE:

The first day our destination is Dick's Lake, nearly 15 miles away. Under normal trail conditions, that distance would be very doable. And based on our start at the Echo Lake PCT trailhead at 7:30 this morning, we like our chances. An earlier start would have given us a little more breathing room. But estimating a steady yet comfortable speed of 1.5+ miles per hour, how can we not make Dick's Lake by sundown? Little do we know what lies ahead.




After some moderate "ups" and "downs" along the trail, we left Lower Echo Lake and Upper Echo Lake behind us. The trail is good and we are eager for a memorable trekking experience. Soon after passing Lake Tamarack, we are seeing the first traces of snow along the trail. By Aloha Lake, the traces are becoming more frequent and more expansive. To boost our water supply for the remaining long miles today we decide to pump water at Aloha Lake. The rest stop with packs off is welcome as we snack on GORP, jerky an

April 3—Write a poem in which you imagine the world without you. The world could be a much worse place, pretty much the same, or even better. Anyway, it's interesting to contemplate our individual contributions to this planet in ways small and large.

Were I Not Here
By Bill Kirk

Were I not here,
The lawn might be mowed,
The weeds would be whacked and
The bare window sill would already be primed and painted.

Were I not here,
The blown down back fence would be replaced,
The crack in the driveway would be patched and
The front door latch would work and not stick.

Were I not here,
The ivy would not have overtaken the side yard,
There’d be no birds nesting in the attic and
The perilously leaning pine would be long gone.

Were I not here,
The taxes would be done before April 14,
There might be more money for vacations and
There’d be less money needed for life insurance,

But were I not here, there would also be
Fewer cups of coffee at bedside each morning,
Fewer lunches made each work day,
Fewer omelets cooked each Sunday after church,
Fewer miles run for the pure pleasure of it,
Fewer pick-ups after school,
Fewer haircuts at Grandpa’s house,
Fewer children’s rhymes written and read,
Fewer reminders about Scout meetings,
Fewer camping trips with the old man,
Fewer holiday turkeys cooked and carved,
Fewer New Year’s Day black eye peas for good luck and
Fewer kisses goodnight.

So, all things considered,
Consider me here.

Today's Ypulse Interview is with Monica Goldenberg, a representative of the Boy Scouts of America. One of the country's oldest youth development programs, the BSA are currently celebrating their first century as an organization — and making... Read the rest of this post

Longboarding (A twist on traditional skateboarding sparks a new, inclusive movement becoming "the fastest growing segment in an otherwise sluggish skateboard market") (New York Times, reg. required) - Comic-Con 2010 (Nice preview from USA Today. And... Read the rest of this post

By Bill Kirk
Bill Kirk's Website

(Published in Scouting e-zine Cracker Barrel, 2008)

You'd think it would be easy,
To tell about the day's
Events and how they happened
In ordinary ways.

But this day wasn't normal,
Though it was kind of cool.
I learned to care for victims
At Boy Scout First Aid school.

At first I was a victim.
I had a "broken arm"
And "bruises" and a "headache"
As if I'd come to harm.

An "accident" had happened
On my "mountain bike."
But soon I was "discovered"
By "hikers" on a hike.

They checked out all my "bruises,"
And bandaged all my "scrapes."
In no time they had splinted
My arm with sticks and tapes.

Soon after I was "stable"
I had another role-
To help a rock slide victim
Impaled upon a pole.

Of course, he was "unconscious."
His "skull" had hit a "rock."
Because we had just "minutes,"
We worked against the clock.

At first we rolled him over
And "stabilized" his "spine."
We did a lift and carry;
In no time he was fine.

Several hours later,
The day was finally done.
Although the lessons were intense,
We'd learned while having fun.

When I got home, exhausted,
My wife said, "How's your day?"
"You won't believe..." then I just couldn't
Bring myself to say.

April 30: “For today's prompt, write a letting go poem. The poem could be about letting go of a relationship; it could be about letting go of anger; it could be about letting go of a tree branch; or it could even be about, yes, letting go of this April challenge. There are so many things we can let go.“

Alas, the end has come to National Poetry Month and to the Poem A Day Challenge for April. Writing a "letting go" poem offers many paths. But in honor of squeezing yet another poem into a day, busy-ness came to mind. Today's offering is short and sweet because now I must get busy so we can leave for a weekend camping trip---lots to do. Busy, busy, busy....

Letting Go Of Busy
By Bill Kirk

Busy is as busy does.
So, why are we so busy?
Should busy bees our mentors be
And life be all a-tizzy?

Why not add a little sloth—
Try letting go of busy?
Moderation in all things
Will make you far less dizzy.

Guess I’ll kick back and enjoy
A few things I have missed.
But first I’d better check things off
My daily duty list.

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4/16 is Foursquare Day (and fans are celebrating in self-organized "swarms." Mashable wonders if all the festivities can bring the service up to one million members. And did the Boy Scouts take a cue with this new digital badge for "geocaching")... Read the rest of this post

Boys and rocks and water. What more do you need? There's something about that combination of ingredients that is unlike any other. The locations where the ingredients are combined may vary. But in the end when it comes to skipping stones, location is totally inconsequential.

This weekend, the location happened to be on Angel Island in San Francisco Bay---not bad as real estate goes. On Saturday morning a small but determined group of Sacramento Scouts ferried across from Tiburon to Ayala Cove on the island. With our backpacks securely strapped on, our party of 11 made the short hike to the Kayak Group campsite on the west side of the island. After setting up camp, the water's edge was calling and all in our group answered that siren's call.

The adults among us mostly enjoyed the momentary respite from the weekly grind as small, wake-driven waves lapped at the narrow rock-strewn beach. But the boys? Well, for anyone who might declare that imagination is dead, this day told a different tale. Each Scout became an instant expert in the fine art of stone skipping.

What makes a good skipping stone, anyway? Is it a particular rounded edge that cradles perfectly in the curve between index finger and thumb? Must it be thin and flat? How large should it be? Too heavy and the toss results in a resounding "SPLOINK!" Too small and whatever happens is just not very satisfying. And almost intuitively, all stone skippers know shape is important for a great skip. Yes, you can almost skip anything once. But to get the repeating hops across the surface in rapidly increasing succession takes a shape within certain generally accepted tolerance limits.

But, ultimately, a good skip doesn't just depend on the stone. It also requires the right speed and the right angle, both of which are totally in the hands of the skipper. There's almost nothing worse than wasting a good skipping stone on an insufficiently serious toss. Rarely will a casual approach to skipping earm the accolades of one's fellow skippers. But a good skip is pure joy.

However, much like the short-lived laurels awarded to ancient Olympians, a record breaking skipping toss is transitory and in the moment. Judging is instantaneous by those present and not subject to review. To witness a great toss is its own reward. In fact, even being lucky or attentive enough to see a great toss, sets one apart from those who might have missed it either because they weren't present or simply because they blinked or looked away at an inopportune moment. Yet even the declaration of a record-breaking toss is sufficient to lay down the gauntlet to all others who might attempt to best it.

And so, as boys have done for as long as there have been rocks and water, our Scouts followed suit on this March day on Angel Island, California. They joined all past, present and future skippers, bound in silent brotherhood, standing at water's edge, searching for just the right stone to fling with just the right speed, at just the right angle, hoping to catch the most air or the most bounces across the surface.

Such is the way of the stone skippers.

Oscars get a social media push (including a new Facebook page and an iPhone app. Also Warner Bros. wins bidding war for rights to Ally Carter's teen caper Heist Society Plus another peek at Tim Burtons's "Alice in Wonderland") (Ad Age, reg.... Read the rest of this post

Sometimes you get a surprise. On a lark I sent a poem (this one is a rhyme) to Boy Life magazine. Although it didn't quite fit the needs for the magazine, the editor offered that they were hoping to put it in a Scouting blog in what is known as the Cracker Barrel.

Let's face it, he had me over a barrel so how could I refuse. Knowing the Cracker Barrel is used as a source of useful information, helpful hints for Scouting activities and generally to give Scouts and Scouters a chuckle, I am a fan. So, I was glad my rhyme about taking a weekend Wilderness First Aid course would in some way contribute to the greater good. Besides another credit is one more cobblestone on the road to writer heaven.

Here's the URL that will take you to the Scouting blog if you wish to check it out. On the Trail to Eagle, it's all good.

http://blog.scoutingmagazine.org/2009/07/what-a-weekend-rhyming-edition.html#more .

Without a doubt, the Hispanic and Latino populations are the fastest-growing minority groups in America today. Brands looking to connect with and effectively market to these cultures must step up to the challenge of understanding their youth. An... Read the rest of this post

Oxford Islamic Studies Online brings together the best current scholarship in the field and promotes accurate and informed understanding of the Islamic world.  Editor-in-Chief John L. Esposito is University Professor of Religion and International Affairs and Founding Director of the Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding, Georgetown University. A past president of the Middle East Studies Association, he is editor-in-chief of the four-volume Oxford Encyclopedia of the Modern Islamic World, editor of The Oxford Illustrated History of Islam, and the author of numerous books, including What Everyone Needs to Know about Islam, Unholy War, Islam: The Straight Path and The Islamic Threat: Myth or Reality? He lives in Washington, D.C.  In the article below he reflects upon Benazir Bhutto’s assassination and what it means for Pakistan.

The assassination of Benazir Bhutto and its aftermath are an instructive lesson in the checkered history of Pakistan and its critical situation today. Both President Bush and President Musharraf were quick to blame al-Qaeda and other Muslim extremists and to simply place the assassination within the context of the war on global terrorism and the forces opposed to democracy. But as dangerous as these forces are, especially with the growth of Pakistani rather than foreign fighters, this facile single-minded scenario ignores the long-standing conflicting currents in Pakistani politics. (more…)

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