Last month was summer camp for my son’s local Boy Scout Troop.

Summer camp is in image and experience a highlight of the Scouting program. A week in the woods, campfires and skill development.

I was there throughout, too, as one of the registered adults with Number One Son’s Unit. Grown-ups are primarily there to ensure safety and accountability. We weigh in with counsel as appropriate, but it’s really the boys, ages 10 to just under 18, who lead things within these youth groups.

Although eager lads join Boy Scouts any time of the year, heaviest recruitment for our area district begins in early fall. That’s when you’ll see signs crop up all around Washtenaw County telling you that Scouting is “fun.”

The very word that kept cycling through my head on the fourth night in my tent there at camp: fun. I remember distinctly. It was around 3 a.m. Rain pouring down for hours. Not like the torrents, hour after hour, on night two, mind you.

Night four was far more extreme.

Our campsite certainly showed the aftermath as the morning sun rose for the day following Mother Nature’s temper-tantrum.

But as our Boy Scouts began filtering out of bunks, their routine was largely indistinguishable from any other dawn. A little more time and attention was paid to policing the grounds, of course, before we headed to the parade field for flag-raising. Yet no personal complaints; everyone had slept dry.

Some regaled us with stories of having “slept through it all,” undisturbed. Some waxed expansively, akin to a preteen-male’s tale of Ulysses. Greek epic.

As the day unfolded, I made my way about the Boy Scout camp with no real agenda. So I continued to observe and listen wherever my path crossed that of someone else.

Among the hundreds of boys there, from all over Michigan, adjoining states, and parts beyond, I was further made privy to the Odyssey of Homer-à-la-rainstorm, from a wide variety of perspectives. One younger Scout explained to an older friend the heroic measures he’d taken to arrest erosion on a steep trail that was particularly vulnerable to the inch-per-hour precipitation we’d experienced. At a different point, I overheard another reflect on the object lesson of proper tent-siting, thus avoiding an ad hoc river flowing across his floor.

“Did you stay dry last night, Mr. Deaton?” asked an 11-year-old who’s working to earn his first Scout rank, “Tenderfoot.” He hadn’t seen me at the shake-down meetings his Patrol had had to prepare for summer camp; he was genuinely concerned. “Yes,” I assured him.

My Papa Deaton often reminded me that there’s nothing we can do to change the weather. But these Boy Scouts had surely learned how to best flank against its potentially detrimental impact on them.

Scouting had given them confidence.

It had also given them a whole lot more. Because they were Boy Scouts, the storm, their preparations for it, and the stories it had given them after, had all been quite fun, indeed.

Dell Deaton is a local volunteer with the Boy Scouts of America, Great Sauk Trails Council. He currently serves as District Vice-Chair for Membership and as Chaplain in his son's Troop. Wood Badge C-60-08, Beaver Patrol. Check out /scouting_dell to Follow me on Twitter.

Professionally, Dell Deaton is a Christian divorce (and alternatives) counselor based in Saline, Michigan. Personal life: Re-married, father of one, with three dogs. Other interests include Ian Fleming and James Bond wristwatches, on which he is an internationally-recognized expert.