Emergency? I report, you decide.

Another tale of misspent youth.

Way back in the last century El Capitan and I worked at a boy scout camp. We worked long hard hours to ensure that the scouts that visited that camp had fun and had lots of stories to tell their buddies. And maybe a few of those friends joined their troop and went the next summer just to see what all the fun was about.

We played hard also. Sometimes the long hours we put in were a threat to our playtime. But we always seemed to make the best of it. An average day would see us busy from 6am to 7pm or later. At least 3 nights a week we were busy until 9 or 10pm. Due to the fact that we are not good at planning ahead and liquor stores in Texas close at 9pm, we had a couple of close calls concerning our nocturnal outings.

All of the roads in this camp were narrow and unpaved. In many places there was only room for one vehicle to pass at a time. Because of this a pecking order of sorts was established for who had the right of way. Bottom of the list was staff members in personal cars,and going upward then official camp vehicles. (the two white trucks, the Sub-Urban and the phantom wagon)., then scoutmasters in their personal cars and lastly the camp ranger not so affectionately called “The Green Lizard”. Of course if it was an emergency you could turn on your headlights and flashers and you had right of way over everyone.

It was somebody’s birthday and we had had to work late. El Capitan and I were sitting at the picnic table in the staff area talking about our party plans when we suddenly realize that it is 830pm and 35mins to the closest liquor store. Legal scholars are still debating whether this constitutes enough of an emergency for what actions follow next.

Lights on flashers going, we tear out of the parking lot at more than 3 times the suggested speed limit on these back roads. As we weave and bob and dodge potholes, roadrunners and the Great Oil Pan Killing Rock. We encounter no traffic and finally we are only one more intersection from the main gate and the highway. But that intersection leads to the Lair of the Green Lizard. We round a corner and see him heading towards us in his truck. But we have our lights on and flashers going., BUT HE IS THE GREEN LIZARD!!!! Who will flinch in this game of chicken? The Green Lizard heads for the ditch on the side of the road in such a way he must of thought we had a boy scout on board who had got crossways with an axe. We zoom past him and make the liquor with 5 minutes to spare.

Trunk full of libations we return at a leisurely pace to the parking lot. There is a low hum about the staff area. Whispers of “The Green Lizard was run off the road” and I wonder what the emergency was? One has to understand that the Green Lizard is more myth than man. No one dare cross him, He was immune to all the rules and regulations. On occasion we would run across one of his many hunting blinds he used to keep the white tail population under control. He went everywhere armed and was known for his prowess at killing snakes with his “twenny tu” And someone had run him off the road. Who would have the nerve? Even ambulances and fire trucks yield to the Green Lizard. It would take a huge set of huevos and a lot of what the British call cheek to even think about such a caper. Yet it had been done. And the Lizard was on the warpath.

Luckily for us when he rounded the corner he only saw the headlights and the flashers and was not able to identify the make and model of the car. He got the color right but I had been asleep in my tent at the time of the crime. Well that was my story and I was sticking to it. Like any good caper 2 and 2 were finally put together and the answer they got was 3.9. they knew it was us, but they couldn’t prove it.

As for the Cap and me? Well we were heroes, held in almost as high esteem as “The Guy that Keeps Adjusting the Hot Water Heater.” But his or her identity still remains a mystery.