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Daja Gombojav

Growing in Virtue: Courage


[Today's guest post is from Scott Durant, a member at Corpus Christi and volunteer catechist. What follows is a reflection on virtues learned while backpacking. To get your family out on the trail with other families, consider following Scott on Middle Maine Trekkers where he plans outings for families.]


I remember the late ‘70’s, slogging up the Long Trail in Vermont with Troop 70 from Chelmsford, Mass. Backpacking as a young Scout took all the effort I could muster. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. When it was over though, it was the most satisfying feeling in the world, that I had finished a backpacking trip successfully.


Unlike today, everybody went on our trips. No one wanted to just stay home! Contrary to popular opinion among my peers at the time, the Scouts I knew were tough! They had that inner toughness, the kind you can really rely on in times of distress, like moms during childbirth. Call it courage, stamina, or faith.


We did all the things the so-called experts of today tell you not to-like wearing work boots, which were not exactly ergonomically correct, dungarees, and cotton shirts and socks. We all had external frame packs which did not conform to your back and we often dangled gear from the frame. Somehow we all survived.


We slogged, grunted, and pushed our way through it, and we learned not complain (partly because the other guys made fun of you for being a crybaby) because whining just made things worse. At the end of our trips we realized we had a great time. Not just spending time in the woods, but suffering together, and teasing each mercilessly, built up a camaraderie which perseveres to this day. It’s far better to suffer with a buddy than alone.


My father, a Cambridge, Massachusetts city-boy through and through, went on one of our trips: Black Mountain in the White Mountain National Forest. This is THE trip which stands out in my memory to this day. It was June 1981.


Scott and his father backpacking in 1981


Day one had us slogging through swamps. You can just imagine the insects! The terrain was flat, but very wet and the trail wasn’t marked well.


That night I tented with a kid who is still a close friend to this day. That night he was acting really hyper, more than normal, and was acting so strangely that I was scared. My father, no stranger to the streets, figured out that he was smoking pot. He promptly and fearlessly dealt with it. The other Scoutmasters were not aware of the reason for this behavior. The only consideration my old man had was for the truth and right, not for my buddy’s feelings. I will never forget how my father protected me.


The next day we climbed Black Mountain (2,820 ft). I remember it being one of the hardest things I’d ever done. The older kids raced ahead and we found their ground pads tossed in the woods in order to shed weight. There is an old photo of my father standing on the summit, looking totally frazzled. It was not because of the climb. He was petrified of heights, yet he sucked it up and went anyway. Now it is one of the great memories we have of my 52 years on earth.


During our descent we encountered a very steep drop-off of about 50 feet. “Gonna have to get the rope,” Mr. Gould, our Scoutmaster said. This certainly got my father’s attention. “Rope!” he said. Meanwhile, as the adults were debating how to get down, two of our smallest and youngest Scouts called us from down below. Somehow, they figured out how to get down. All the older kids had shunned their responsibility and left us youngsters behind with the adults.


We had to turn face in to the cliff while the young Scouts guided us. “Ok...now just let go. Slide down and you’ll find a foothold.” It was harrowing.


Sometimes its the smallest among us who deliver graces. We who are older have to humble ourselves at times and realized that the Spirit works in youngsters too!



Scott still tackling mountains in 2000.

The virtues which stand out here are courage and charity. My father could’ve been home watching the Celtics play in the championship. Instead he chose to go with me and our troop into the bowels of New Hampshire where he, being a city boy through and through, was out of his environment. Not only that, but facing down his fear of heights, which is considerable no matter whether its a bridge, skyscraper, or mountain summit, took great courage. I also learned perseverance and courage from our older Scouts. It was a grim determination-without-whining I learned from those guys and it’s something I still use today whether its a mountain peak or any of life’s difficulties which inevitably get thrown our way. Perhaps the greatest lesson of all is that no matter what, you need other people to help you get over the challenges. Other people, whether its family, friends, or acquaintances will help push you toward greater virtue, and that’s the way God meant it to be.

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