01/05/2024
I'll never forget the night. One of those childhood experiences that was miserable, yet it became one of my greatest childhood memories. The setting: three car/truck loads of Boy Scouts going from Chula Vista to the Indian Flats Campground near Warner Springs, at the headwaters of the San Luis Rey River.
When we arrived at Indian Flats we learned the first come-first served campground was full. The nearest viable option was Palomar Mountain State Park. Only a thirty five mile drive but a drive of over an hour due to the twists and turns of the road.
Once we arrived at the bottom of the hill one of our vehicles broke down. Thankfully I was not in that vehicle, as everyone who was had to wait on the side of the road in mid-30's weather while repair attempts were made. The rest were shuttled in a pickup.
My patrol was the first to the campsite and to our surprise there was over a foot of snow on the ground due to a late winter storm. There were about six or seven of us and one tent. No sleeping bags or blankets, only the clothes on our backs.
One guy suggested we lay closer to each other for body heat, he had recently seen a documentary about how some larger mammals would huddle together for warmth in the northern areas.
One guy made a crack about a fellow Scout named Bruce Davis, a gentle giant of a boy who was about as big as any two NFL linebackers from our perspective. If we huddled around him we would all be warm.
Of course, boys we were, we laid down as far apart as we could.
For about ten minutes.
Next thing you know we were all huddled close together.
That was a funny memory but the warmest memory was what we heard on the transistor radio: the mid-April broadcast of a Padre game and of course, the voice of Jerry Coleman. Thoughts of running around at the Murph on a warm summer night had a strange way of making us forget we were freezing our Merit Badges off. What started out planned as a typical campout turned into a weekend in a winter wonderland, albeit in early spring.
Now, nearly forty years later, the best part of that entire story is sitting at dinner at the Jack Murphy Stadium Press Box one table over from Jerry Coleman twenty five years later. I shared that story with him and he said "You're Boy Scouts, you're used to that kind of thing."
I laughed and said "Mr Coleman, I'm from San Diego. That was the first time I saw snow that wasn't on TV or a Christmas card!"
Thanks for the Memories, Colonel.
~Scoutmaster Rudy
