by G. Jack Urso
Constellations
in the summer Northern night sky.
I strained my
eyes against the night sky as I looked upwards.
“There,” the scout leader said, “that’s the Navigator’s Triangle,” pointing out a formation comprised of Altair, Deneb, and Vega, also known as the Summer Triangle. Once I found it, he showed me the three constellations those stars are part of: Aquila, Cygnus, and Lyra.
“And there, see
that little smudge? That’s the Andromeda Galaxy.” For the next hour, he
continued across the 360-degree dome of the Northern sky calling out the North
Star, the Big and Little Dippers, Cassiopeia, Scorpius, Sagittarius, and even
faint wisps of the Milky Way Galaxy.
Despite having a
pair of binoculars, we mostly did naked-eye astronomy. We craned our heads
back, standing in pitch-black darkness in the middle of the parking lot of
Stratton Mountain Scout Reservation, August 1978.
Ancient
Rituals and Rites
 |
| Author's collection. |
Despite being
located in Vermont, Stratton Mountain Scout Reservation (1950-1979) was
actually run as a joint venture of the Fort Orange — Uncle Sam Council and
Governor Clinton Council, both from New York. I attended in 1975, 1977, and
1978. Buried deep in the Green Mountains, it had a raw, unsettled wilderness
feel about it. The reservation was a complex of buildings and campsites
scattered up the mountain by Grout Pond, near the Somerset Reservoir. In 1975,
my Troop 2 (St. Andrew’s Church, Albany, NY) was assigned to the Green Mountain
campsite down by the pond, but in 1977 and 1978 we got the much-desired Hill
Top campsite, located about three-quarters of a mile up the mountain from the
parking lot. We typically spent a week working on merit badges and engaging in
time-honored coming-of-age rituals.
I learned to
build fires and dig latrines, canoe and cook, shoot and swim, set up tents and
camp in all sorts of weather. I saw beaver dams and my first bald eagle. While
hiking through the woods, we occasionally came across the ancient ruins of some
old trapper’s cabin, wondering if he died alone deep in the woods. Order of the
Arrow initiation ceremonies were held in the forest at night with the
candidates led out to places in the woods from where they would have to find
their own way back to the campsites.
Old wooden map of campsites that once hung at Stratton Mountain Scout Reservation, now at the Rotary Scout Reservation. In 1975, Troop 2 stayed at the Hill Shore campsite (upper right with green dot). In 1977 and 1978, we stayed at Hill Top
(center with red dot).
We climbed up
Stratton Mountain to the fire tower at the summit and got a bird’s-eye view of
the wilderness. Looking at the dense forest, we realized if a fire did break
out getting so many boys out of the area would be difficult, especially if it
started at night. There is no darkness as deep as that of a forest late at
night — particularly on a moonless night. Being the 1970s, we half-expected
Bigfoot to jump out and grab one of us. We were filled with a mix of awe,
danger, fear, and mystery.
 |
| Remains of the old Stratton Mountain Scout Reservation Camp Director’s office and staff lounge in December 2023 (Credit: Paul D. Albertine, SMSR Facebook group). |
In 1975, my
first year at Stratton Mountain, I earned the Reptile Study merit badge. In
1977, I completed Geology and Mammal Study. In 1978, I eagerly signed up for the
Astronomy merit badge course, though I was concerned there would be too many
scouts and I might not get a spot. As it turned out, I was the only one to sign
up. Since star gazing and learning the constellations were required, we had to
meet about 9 pm in the parking lot. Walking through the forest late at night
was enough to turn off most of the scouts; however, I wasn’t deterred. My
father gave me a Sears telescope for Christmas the previous year and I was
anxious to learn more. I was a little disappointed all we had was a single pair
of binoculars, but naked-eye astronomy is like learning to drive a standard
transmission. I may not always have a telescope, but I would always have my
eyes.
Reptile Study, Geology, Mammal Study, and Astronomy merit badges (author’s collection).
Sometime around
10 pm I would make my way the three-quarters of a mile back to Hill Top.
Leaving the open space of the parking lot for the claustrophobic nighttime
trail, it was so dark I literally could not see my hand in front of my face. My
flashlight barely pierced the blackness. Along the way, as I passed other
campsites, I made wild animal calls to spook the other scouts as I fought off
the tingle of fear at the base of my spine — my howls mixing in with the night
and the mystery.
Deep
Field Observations
I was an active
member for about six years, from 1974 to 1980. I ended up as a Star Scout. If
it went by count alone, I had enough merit badges for Life Scout, but I needed
certain ones in areas I had no interest in. Combined with my parent’s
dysfunctional marriage and later divorce, I stopped attending.
Troop
2 at the Auriesville Retreat, 1976 (left to right, in pairs) 1st row, Andy
O’Toole
and Jack Urso (author); 2nd row, Andy Kissel and Peter Laz; 3rd row,
the Pelton twins.
I can’t say that
I have maintained any of my scouting skills. I haven’t been camping since I
left Troop 2. In my 30s, I lived only a block away from St. Andrew’s Church
where the troop met, and one of my former employers was an assistant
scoutmaster for a time, but I had no desire to volunteer.
I left my
telescope in Rochester with some friends after college and never got it back.
The cheap Sears’ lens never quite worked right anyway, though I regret losing
the first Christmas gift from my father after the divorce. Despite my early
interest, beyond watching segments of Jack Horkheimer’s Star Gazer and reading books on cosmology, I haven’t really pursued
it.
Navigator’s
Triangle in the Northern sky.
Still, there are
restless late nights when I go out on my back porch and look up at the small
slice of sky I can see above the rooftops, beyond the glare of the city lights,
and I’ll pick out a few planets, stars, and constellations I still recall —
especially the Navigator’s Triangle when it is visible. Because how long it
takes for the light to reach us, looking at the stars is a bit like time
travel. We only see what was, not what is now. Likewise, when I do star gaze, I
am always transported back to August 1978 and that dark parking lot on Stratton
Mountain. The fading voice of my Astronomy merit badge counselor, like that of
my youth, is drowned out by the noise of four decades.
Yet, as the Sun only drowns out starlight that is always in the sky, if I look long enough, I can still see the sparks of that summer so long ago.
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