Scout’s Honor

I guess you could say my childhood was a pretty typical one. I was the oldest of five kids, and spent the first 12 years of my life growing up in a Dallas suburb. I attended a Catholic grade school, and our church sponsored both Cub and Boy scouts. When I was old enough to join the Boy Scout troop at the age of 9, I was excited because I could finally go out on overnight and weekend camping trips.

The first few camping trips were a lesson for me in how to set up a tent, build a fire, and time spent hiking and fishing. I wasn’t really close to any of the other boys, but we all went to school together so everyone was on good terms with each other. I especially liked sitting around the fire at night and listening to the older boys and our scoutmasters shoot the breeze about all kinds of topics.

The summer I turned 10 I went on my first extended camping trip. The family of one of the boys in our troop owned a nice piece of property about 2 hours drive from the city. It was about 300 acres with a small lake and a couple of creeks running through it. It was a four day trip, and I was really excited to be away from home for that long for the first time. My parents surprised me with a small pup tent before I left, and after my dad showed me how to set it up, I was ready to roll.

We spent the first afternoon setting up camp and exploring the area. It was June and already hot, at least 90 degrees. Some of the guys suggested a hike to the lake, about a mile or so from camp. I ducked into my tent and changed into my swimsuit and pulled on a t-shirt and sneakers. I set out with the other kids for the lake, there were about 12 or 15 of us, ranging in age from 10 to 15. Looking back, I wonder why I didn’t notice that only half of us were in swim trunks, with the others in their khaki hiking shorts. I was definitely in for a surprise.

When we got to the lake, I wasted no time taking off my shirt and sneakers and waded in the warm water with my friend David, who had just turned 11 a couple of weeks before. We swam out a ways and were chatting when I looked back and saw some of the older kids peeling their shorts and jockeys off and heading into the water naked. I was shocked! I had never seen another guy naked before, and a couple of the older guys were sporting the first pubic hair I had ever seen. I remember looking at David and saying “They’re going in naked!” We were both kind of amazed and tried not to stare but it sure wasn’t easy. I asked him if he had ever gone swimming naked, but he said no. That led to more questions: when does your hair start growing down there, how come his looks different than his…a lot of curiosity.

At the time, I knew my penis would get hard sometimes when I took a bath but wasn’t sure why. I remember I liked the feeling of draping a washcloth over it in the tub, but that was the extent of my exploration. We hiked back to camp and I spent the rest of the day wondering about what I had seen and if it would happen again. I really wanted to see the other guys naked again.

Nothing eventful happened that day, and after a good night’s sleep we spent the morning hiking and fishing.