When your in Boy Scouts you get to go to a lot of remarkable places if your lucky. I've been up and down the California Coast, from Death Valley to Alcatraz, from my own backyard in summer to the coldest winter wonderlands. One of the highlights of most Boy Scout retinues is the summer trip where the troop or group will gather together the funds to go to a summer camp. There are several great camps in California, and many not so great ones. I have several stories from a not so great one, but today's story takes place at a great one, in fact one of the most famous in California.
Situated several miles off the Southern California Coast, Catalina is one of the most famous islands of what is called Channel Islands National Park. It was a haven of the rich and wealthy in the boom years of Hollywood and today its an escape from the horizontal sprawl and concrete plain that is Los Angeles. To get there is a rather bumpy boat ride, a dire prospect for someone so prone to sea-sickness as I am. Dramamine is a must, but once you arrive on Catalina you find harborage in Avalon, the largest city (and the only one) on the island.
Our destination was Emerald Bay, a Boy Scout Camp famous in California for its proximity to the ocean and a distinctly nautical (pirate) theme. This is not to say you can expect Captain Hook here, but the camp is right on the ocean with its own beach along with hiking trails along bluffs overlooking the pacific ocean. With good food, great activities and a chance to mingle with fellow scouts, its a fantastic camp, probably the second best camp I ever went to.
One of the highlights is a chance to camp overnight on a beach with barbecue and stories Its quite the thing because you hike to this secluded bay which is covered in these pebbles and spend all day playing around in the ocean. By the time night comes, you don't even notice the billions of rocks that become a warm wonderful cradle for you as you fall asleep.
Of course, with rocks comes the inevitable urge to throw rocks into the ocean which is where our story comes from. For the sake of humor, we will call our subject Mark Heffburg. Mark was an interesting guy, one whom I will tell another story of in the future. He was not possessed of the greatest humor, though his Dad was one of our scoutmasters growing up and had a great one. He was a bit uptight, but he had interesting viewpoints which cut through our childish fun.
There I was, tossing stones into the oceans and Mark decided to chime in with the way Mark always did by saying, "Well gee that rock spent a million years getting up here, now its back where it started."
At the time I remember thinking, "Seriously?" but honestly he was right. Those stones I was throwing had taken who knows how long to reach there and here I was tossing them right back into the ocean without a care in the world. Now and forever when I see stones on the beach, or someone throwing stones I think of Mark's comment at Emerald Bay. Perhaps in another million years someone will pick up the same stone and throw it right back.
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