My Wild Friends...

   I am sitting in the spot where my whole life changed. Well, not the exact spot (that was in the middle of the creek), just on the bank next to it. I come here a lot now, on account of its's my favorite out of our entire piece of the wilderness. That first day when I fell in by accident and got the spit scared out of me, I was about to go totally ballistic when I looked straight into somebody's eyes.

   No kidding. That was my first thought. "Who is that?" Then I realized it was just a big turtle sitting on a rock out in the middle of the creek a little ways away. He was looking at me with his head sort of cocked and a smile (it looked exactly like a smile!), like he was about to say, "Gotta watch that last step, bud." So, I couldn't help smiling back. I mean, all of a sudden I felt great.

   Sort of happy all over for some reason. Like a wild thing had looked right at me and -- for one split second -- we communicated. It was an awesome feeling. All of a sudden I didn't care that much how scraped up and wet I was, or that I was gonna have some real explaining to do when I got home. Man-- a wild thing had communicated with me!

   So, I got the camera out of my backpack and took a bunch of pictures of him. It didn't matter that there wasn't a contest for turtle pictures (just parrots). I wanted these for myself, to remember him by. In case I never saw him, again. But I did. After a while I found out he takes a nap on that rock around the same time everyday. He knows me and I know him, now. Since I've been coming here to visit, I've got to know a couple of other wild things around here, too. I love it out here. That's how I found out how much I like Nature.

   Can you believe it? I lived my whole life without knowing that until I accidentally fell into it one day. Sheesh. What if that never happened to me? I might have grown up without knowing how cool it is to be friends with the wild things. Personally. Without just reading about somebody else doing it. I like it even better the more time I spend here.

   I like the sound the trees make when the wind blows through way up high, and the smell of the creek banks. But I especially like how the wild things show up and let you watch them, as long as you're quiet. I guess I sort of thought about it as my own secret spot from then on, and I came here a lot. Sometimes just to think about things. I liked the quiet around there, too. I especially liked having a place to go that nobody else knew about.

   Right up until somebody followed me in here. Which I don't mind saying I wasn't too happy about, at first. Because nothing was the same after that. And I do not like changes. But -- hey -- I'm not a hermit, so we worked it out. Which led to the second best thing that ever happened to me. I'll tell you about that on Monday.

   Maybe you should go outside this weekend.

   I know I'm gonna.
           W.K.

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A Watcher in the Woods...

   OK. So, there I was, sitting wet up to my waist (that creek was only about two feet deep), and it was way past five, already. We eat at six around our house. Mom doesn't have many rules (as long as I'm respectful and help her out with things when she needs me) but being home in time for dinner is way important to her. So, I try not to ever break that one. Besides, I have to do all the dishes if I do, and I hate that.

   She also likes to know what I've been up to. Which I can usually skirt around with, "Oh, just hanging out..." and she automatically thinks I've been over at Buddy's place. But if I was to come home wet and muddy, she'd ask some serious questions that I would have to answer. Hey-- I don't lie if anyone comes right out and asks me. It's an honor thing.

   Anyway, I was sitting there thinking about all that when I felt someone watching me. All kinds of things flashed across my mind then. What if some weirdo followed me in here? What if a bear lived in a cave dug into the creek bank (OK, so, he'd have to be a little one) and I demolished part of it when I fell in? Holy cow-- what if there were snakes in this water?

   I gotta admit, that last one froze me with fear, on account of I get the goose-bumps just looking at snakes through glass at the zoo. But in that one split second before I hollered and took off, I locked eyes with who was looking at me...

   That split second changed my life forever. No kidding. But if you want to hear the rest of it, you'll have to come back tomorrow. No, I am not late for dinner. And no, we do not have another patrol activity scheduled for today. It's because C is spying on me, again. I know because I just heard the click of that camera, and she has got it in her brain I'm the next Tarzan, or something. I mean, every time she's got me in her sites, she's taking another picture.

   So, tomorrow,
      W.K.

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The Phantom Parrot...

   I did not come up with the brilliant idea to become a Wilderness Protector. I didn't even decide to be one because there was nothing better to do at the moment. I became a Wilderness Protector because of one day when I was out hunting for a wild parrot to take a picture of. I wanted to win a prize with it. Which I am not too proud of a puny reason like that, but I'm trying to tell the truth, here.

  All this was before I found out we didn't have any wild parrots in our part of the country anymore. Anyway, I was out looking for one. We have a pretty cool park not far from our house, and I figured there would probably be some there. Only there wasn't. Just a bunch of people playing frizbee and some kids over at the playground area. There were a few joggers moving along the blacktop walkways, too, and some old people and tots feeding pigeons. But -- like I say -- I couldn't find any parrots. None. Zippo. Nada. Then I thought maybe parrots might be shy.

   Afraid of people.

   So, I headed out toward this clump of trees at the way back corner of the park. If I was a scared parrot, I figured that's probably where I'd head to. But by the time I got there, it was getting sort of late. Except I really wanted a parrot picture, so I went into that little stand of woods, anyway. There were lots of bushes and sticky vines to push through. But I kept on. My plan was to hide somewhere, and wait for all the the birds I scared off to to come back, again. Hey-- I knew I was making all kinds of noise in there, and I'm no idiot. Most wild things run when they hear someone coming.

   I was so into getting my picture -- looking up at the branches of the farthest away trees -- I didn't even notice the ditch. Only it wasn't just a ditch, it was a creek. Before I knew it, I was tumbling down the side of the bank, smack into that middle of that thing. All by myself. And nobody in the world knew where I was...

   Sheesh -- this is gonna have to be another "to be continued..." because here come the Warner sisters with their camera. Is it that late, already? Can we not do anything without putting it on film? I don't know if I want the whole world to see the first time we ever try to put a life-size tent together. But I guess we'll have to vote on that, too.

   See you tomorrow.
            
     W.K.

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Goodbye Sir Robert...

   Hey -- the first of November is right around the corner, and there will be a brand new Mystery Guest Contest coming up. So, if you haven't read all the articles over there on the Mystery Guest page about my visits with Sir Robert Baden-Powell, himself, this is the last week you will get to do that.

   I really learned a lot from him. But --like all the Mystery Guests over at WKC -- they will be popping in now and then whenever we need them. How cool is that? I just love virtual worlds.

   Gotta run. On account of I left a way big mess on the living room floor trying to cut out tent pieces for when I meet with my patrol tomorrow. I hope Mom doesn't mind I had to use her--

   Uh-oh--

   Later,
    W.K.

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Ready, Set, Go...

   Hey -- this week we're talking about how to set up a camp over at WKC. Which is way cool, on account of this is my favorite time of year to go camping. No kidding. There's lots of places to camp around our town, and lots of holidays between now and winter.

   Our patrol of Wilderness Protectors has decided to make all our own gear. It'll give us something to do until our next camp-out, and we'll all have the same stuff. We're each gonna make our own sleeping bags, at home, but everything else we're gonna work on together. I figure we'll have the coolest, most comfortable camp site you ever heard of by the time we're done (man-- will Uncle Joe be surprised).

   So, I have to keep this short, today, on account of I have to go do a little research on how to make a tent. Especially since I already told everybody I knew how to do that. What I meant was, I will by the next time we get together. Heh, heh, heh...

   Knowledge is power.
          W.K.

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My Next Quest...

   So, I asked Uncle Joe if coyotes attack people, and he said, no. On account of it isn't in their nature. Unless they're rabid. But -- hey -- any animal will do that if they've got rabies. Even a rabbit. And get this -- compared to dogs attacking people, there is no contest. There are thousands of dog attacks every year, but only a few documented coyote attacks in all history.

   Coyotes are mostly night creatures. They sleep and hide during the day, and can adapt themselves to almost any environment. Which is why when that scientist guy up in Cape Cod heard about the golf course coyote family, he decided to check it out. On account of they're territorial. If it gets too crowded they just spread out or move somewhere else. None of his coyotes had made a home at the golf course, so maybe it was a new family.

   The maintenance guy told him they saw those coyotes all the time, even the little pups. They were so used to everything that went on at the golf course, they didn't run off when the lawn mowers went by, or even when a golfer got too close. He said, go ahead and take a look, because you could walk right up to about twenty feet away from them. So, they headed over there.

   There were a lot of people around that day, and the scientist saw a large male coyote that he didn't recognize, just laying at the edge of one of the overgrown places, watching everybody. He noticed some people got pretty close when they passed by, but the coyote didn't move. Nothing the people did seemed to bother him.

   That is, until he got a whiff of the scientist from about a hundred feet away. All of a sudden he was up on his feet, barking and growling so much, the maintenance guy was embarrassed. Said he'd never acted that way to anybody else before. About that time, the female showed up and started doing the same thing. But, now, it all made sense.

   That female coyote was one of the scientist's radio-collared ones, that he had been trapping and studying for years. She knew exactly who that scientist was, and she did NOT want him around her new pups. Which is natural. The weird thing is, the scientist and the male coyote had never seen each other before, but that coyote recognized him in a whole crowd full of people, and sounded the alarm.

    Considering the female coyote was the only one he could have found out about the scientist from, they must have had some amazing communication skills to even get a point like that across to each other. Way amazing.

   Which is why the next expedition I'm taking my patrol on is going to be a coyote expedition. They are the coolest animals I've heard about, yet. And -- if they're practically everywhere -- we ought to be able to at least find some sign of them in our own piece of the wilderness.

   Besides that, a coyote picture would be the perfect thing to enter into the WKC Wildlife Photo Contest that's gonna start on November 1. But I'll have to fill you in about that next week, on account of telling the end of this story has made me late, again.

   Have a great weekend!
           W.K.

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A Howl in the Night...

   There's all kinds of ways animals talk to each other, and most of us learn some of that stuff in school. Like bees doing a dance back at the hive to let everyone know how far they have to fly to get honey ingredients. And I guess one of the most important reasons animals communicate is to give a danger warning. But what I'm gonna tell you about, right now, goes way past a danger warning.

   It happened a couple years ago in Cape Cod. That's way up in the northeast corner of the USA (for you Wilderness Protectors that live out there in the rest of the world). Anyway, there's this cool scientist guy that's been doing coyote research up there for a lot of years. He puts radio collars on them, tracks where they range, and studies their habits. To do this, he traps them in a wire cage, then sedates them while he checks them over. Before they wake up, he also gives them a free dose of flea and tick stuff. Hey, that's a real problem for wild things these days, especially in summer months.

   Anyway -- like I say -- he had been doing this for years. Knew pretty much every coyote for a hundred miles around. The thing he specialized in most was suburban coyotes. Those are the ones that have adapted to cities and neighborhoods. No kidding. They're all over the place. Which was why Buddy and I almost jumped out of our skin when we heard a howl (seriously!) only a couple seconds after Uncle Joe told us that part...

   Hey -- it was a campfire story, and he was making it a good one. Come to find out, he did that coyote call himself, but what did we know -- it was dark. I even dropped the best smore I ever made and had to roast another marshmallow. Buddy practically choked on his.

   But the actual story is true. Which is why when he told us how this one coyote family had made their home somewhere on the local golf course, and how they just watched people all the time and didn't even run away when somebody got too close...

   Well, that sort of gave me a chill, too. On account of I earn extra money sometimes, helping to pick up golf balls in places they get lost out on the range. Which is also why I had to ask -- right then (I couldn't even wait till he stopped talking) -- if coyotes eat people. If it's one thing about Uncle Joe, he always tells you the truth. No matter how scary it is. So, I'm gonna tell it that way, too.

   Only I'll have to finish tomorrow. On account of this is the longest journal entry I ever made, and Mom's gonna be ticked if I'm late for dinner one more time this week.

   So, later.
      W.K.

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Noises In the Dark...

   Back when I was talking about how I ditched the fear monster, I mentioned how Buddy and I heard something big walking around down by the water on our first night expedition. But we made so much noise before we got the flashlight on, whatever it was took off before we could see it.

   We had to get real quiet -- and stay that way -- for over twenty minutes before anything got brave enough to come out, again. But we did it. On account of we had figured out the wild things were way more afraid of us than we were of them. Besides that, we were up in a tree. So, even though we knew we didn't have any mountain lions in our area for the past hundred years (unless one escaped from the zoo-- yikes!), we put a lid on it and stayed quiet. Because we wanted to see what kind of wildlife lived out in our piece of the wilderness.

   And -- sure, enough -- that thing came back, again.

   My heart felt like it was gonna jump right out my throat, but I got hold of myself, and turned the flashlight on without dropping it in the water, this time. Which made me feel pretty silly when we finally saw what it was. A raccoon. Washing his dinner down at the creek. Can you believe that? We saw his bandit mask and everything. He looked right at our light for about three seconds and then high-tailed it back into the woods. Sort of a fast waddle.

   Which made me think animals must spend a whole lot of time worrying about survival, too. I actually thought he might mention to his family to stay away from the creek for the rest of the night, because there were human-type monsters down there right then. He could have, because we didn't see anymore raccoons. Which is why I asked Buddy's Uncle Joe if he ever heard of animals warning each other about dangerous people.

   And -- man -- did he ever tell us a whopper of a story about that.

   Which I am gonna tell you about right here on this blog over the next couple of days. And -- no -- I am not getting off the subject of campfires for this week. On account of every campfire has to have at least one good story to go along with it.

   So, see you tomorrow.
           W.K.

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All About Punks...

   I have been thinking about how many changes there have been since the beginning of time. But mostly how many there haven't been. OK, so we do a lot of stuff way quicker these days on account of technology. But some things haven't changed at all. Like what it takes to survive in the wilderness.

   Knowing how to build a fire and keep it going is still the best way to do that, if you ever end up in one of those situations. Seriously. So, I am way into practicing that kind of stuff. Because I don't ever want to be caught off guard in case something unexpected happens. Like I'd rather be a hero than a victim. Which is why I spend so much time figuring all this stuff out. Not to mention it's more fun than sitting around the house all day.

   The thing is, sometimes I find my best information in old books hardly anybody even knows about anymore. At first, I had a way hard time getting through some of them because a lot of words for things have changed since then. But I kept at it because I wanted to find out a few things. Then I made an interesting discovery. My brain sort of stepped up to the job. Like I picked up the language after the first few pages. I don't know exactly how. It's just that somewhere along the line it got easier to understand, and I hardly realize when it's happening anymore. Pretty cool, actually.

   Except sometimes it seems like one of those old-fashioned words is the only one that will fit for something I want to say -- and out it pops. Then I have a lot of explaining to do. Which is what happened today when I was sharing out Cool Tips about fire-building with some Wilderness Protectors over at WKC. I could have said kindling, but that meant something else. Or I could have said tinder, but that wasn't it, either. It was a mixture of things. It was a ball of...

   Sheesh, I still can't think of a better word. It was a punk. So, if you want to know what that is, you'll have to head over to the feature article at WKC and find out. Because I'm only good for one  explanation a day.

   Besides that, I'm sorta proud I got to be in a feature.

   No kidding.
      W.K.

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Talk About Fire...

   OK. So, I thought I knew everything there was to know about campfires. On account of I’ve been studying on it for a couple weeks, so I would look good when our patrol went camping to practice up on survival skills. Heh, heh, heh...

   Only there's a lot more to it than I figured. But with all the help we got (hey, it was our first time) everything turned out OK. Except for a few mistakes that happened with the cooking, and running out of matches. But we did such a good job on the second day, I got invited to share what I learned over on the feature page at WKC (which will way help me out on my captain skills). So, I hope all you Wilderness Protectors will head on over there and look in on things and tell me how I'm doing.

  Besides that, I'm gonna be sharing all the cool fire tips we learned from a real wilderness expert. Which you just might want to know sometime if you get in any scrapes when you're out camping. Like dropping your matches in the water. Anyway, I hope somebody comes.

   Seriously.
      W.K.

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The Big Weekend...

   This is it. The one we've been waiting for. Our patrol is going out on a full-blown expedition that will last for more than one day. Into the wilds. We will not be taking any high-tech gear, because the main purpose of this trip is to practice our survival skills. Not counting the the C.S. Warner Film Studio camera, of course (those girls never go anywhere without their camera) because you never can tell when an opportunity for some prize-winning footage will turn up.

   Hey, we are way into prizes around here. Which is why we're gonna enter our Survival World documentary in WKC's next contest for the best nature film produced by kids. But more on that, later. Right now, I gotta head over to Buddy's house and help out with the packing. Because we're leaving in a couple hours.

   I'll let you know how it goes.
               W.K.

P.S. And if you get stuck at home this weekend, you might want to make sure you read all the survival articles over at WKC about what to do if you get lost in the wilderness. On account of they'll be gone next week to make room for the Basic Survival Skills series that's coming up. Hey, don't miss it.

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While I was Waiting...

   I thought I might think back on how I got here. I'd like to say I was born loving the wilderness. That I had a real knack with wild things ever since I was a baby. But it all started with a parrot. It wasn't my parrot. It was nobody's parrot and it wasn't wild. To tell you the truth... there wasn't even a parrot.

   See, what happened was, there was this contest I heard about that was sponsored by PBS. You know who they are. The people who air all those animal shows on NATURE. They do a lot of cool science stuff, too, on another show called NOVA. My mom watches the news programs they put out, but I'm not really into those. Except walking through the living room sometimes when they're on is what got me so interested in survival skills. But that's all I'm gonna say about that, right now. In the beginning, it was the parrot.

   A parrot picture, actually. The contest was to find the best parrot picture, and turn it in for a prize. At the time, I didn't know what the prize was (or I probably wouldn't have done it). But I wanted to win that prize. I also had hopes of getting famous. Like maybe being the youngest wildlife photographer in the world. I mean, that's how I was thinking about it when I borrowed my Grandpa's old digital camera and headed out to get a prize-winning picture that could launch my career.

   OK, so nobody told me parrots weren't native to my part of the country. And I was no hand at remembering school assignments, either. I like science, but I do not -- and I mean, way not -- like doing all those questions at the back of each chapter in a textbook. I remember them about as long as long as they take to write down after you took twice as long to look them up than it did to read the chapter.

   Anyway, that's how I started out on my first expedition. It's how I got my first taste of adventure. It's how I found (stumbled on, actually) my own piece of the wilderness. I'm thinking about this stuff because I'm sitting up here in the Outpost (before the rest of the patrol gets here) working on notes for my new Captain's Class. "How to find your piece of the wilderness when you don't know anything about the wilderness, yet"...

   Yeah, that's gonna be my first subject. Like, where the heck IS the wilderness? Hey, this thing's gotta be real, or what good is it? So, I'm gonna tell how I found mine. It wasn't pretty.

   But -- if you're a captain -- you do what you gotta do.

   Better check if anybody signed up, yet.

   Later,
   W.K.

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My Bright Idea...

   OK. Decision made. I am going to share out everything I've learned about being a Wilderness Protector. Including what's in my backpack. But I can't say I got a whole lot of help from you guys, so, you have to agree being captain of a patrol is NOT easy. That's why we need more of them. Seriously. I mean, how are we gonna protect all our pieces of the wilderness if none of us can make a decision in less than a week? We need more captains.

    Which is why the staff over at WKC has agreed to let me hold a Captain's Class. Where I can share out the hard stuff. Like how to get your people to follow you in the first place (man-- I had a hard time with that one). Or how to pick out the best pieces of wilderness to protect. I might even tell you how I talked the Warner Sisters into signing up. Heh, heh, heh...

   But -- hey -- you can't get in on my Captain's Class if you haven't even joined WKC, yet. On account of the Captain's Class is only for members. The sign-up sheet is posted over at the Outpost. If you want in, you'll have to head on over to WKC first, hit the JOIN THE CLUB link, and take the pledge. Then you get theWKC Handbook, Field Journal pages to print out and use on your own expeditions, and a subscription to my Survival Newsletter. That's where everything starts.

   Cone on, there's gotta be more captains out there.

   Seriously.
   W.K.

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It Isn't Easy...

   I admit I've had to make a lot of changes since I came to WKC. But -- hey -- there's things I want to do more than not changing. Like being a wilderness expert. OK, I know it's a big dream. But what's a dream for if you can't make it a big one? And it's not like I'm too young, because age doesn't matter in this line of work. Seriously. There's no law about putting too much knowledge into your brain before you grow up. Not yet, anyway.

   Which is why I'm going for it while I still have the chance. Because if there's one thing I learned about survival, it's not to get caught off-guard. I figure it's like Sir Robert said, a guy's gotta BE PREPARED. Besides that, I like practicing all this wilderness stuff. Heck-- do you know how many real kid heroes there were down through history? Google it sometime, and you'll be up all night without getting to the end. They were prepared to do what they had to -- and they did it.

   I would really like to be like that. Go down in history, I mean. But the more I read up on it and try to figure out how those kids got to be that way, the more I keep bumping into things I can see -- right now -- I gotta change about myself. They just pop up. Then I gotta decide. Am I gonna change? Or am I gonna stay the same? The thing is, I only started having to make these decisions since I got elected Captain of our patrol. Because sometimes a leader has to decide on what's best for the whole group instead of just himself. Like sharing what's in my backpack with everybody.

   But here's the deal. I like being the only one who knows a few certain things. I like how the others think I'm way cool when I know something they don't. Only now I have this feeling I shouldn't be stingy with the cool stuff. I mean, what if some disaster happened and we all got separated before I got a chance to tell them everything I know about how to survive?

   All of a sudden I'm thinking that's more important than cool. But it isn't easy. On account of I worked way hard to learn all this stuff, and they'd get it for nothing. So, what should I do? Anybody has any ideas out there, let me know. Because, it's not easy being great.

   Seriously.
     W.K.

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Practice Makes Perfect...

   Like I've been saying. Nothing makes you feel better than being able to take care of yourself in an emergency. Which is why I am way glad we are finally going to be starting our WKC Basic Survival Skills study, next week. Sure, it's important to know what to do if you get lost, and all that, but -- Hey-- let's get to the big stuff.

   Buddy's Uncle Joe and Aunt Betsy have agreed to supervise all of us kids (even the Warner sisters) on a camping trip next weekend, where we will have to do everything ourselves. Like we were lost in the wilderness. Talk about some serious practice. Which is why I am going to be practicing on my own every day after school this week, so I can be the best at everything. Hey-- I figure if you're Captain, you should be the best at everything.

   I sure hope that cold spell gets here tonight, so Mom will let me light a fire in the fireplace every day. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to think up some serious bedtime snacks I can't live without. Like s'mores. Mom's a softie when it comes to snacks. Heh, heh, heh...

   Keeping it real.
      W.K.

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Only For the Brave...

   This is the one I've been waiting for. No kidding. How many books ever tell it like it is -- I mean, really is -- anymore? This is the real deal. Not to mention everything in it is true. Of course, I'm gonna read the other one, too. On account of I need all the help I can get with that woodcraft stuff.

   I mean, my backpack is bulging right now with important things I like to take on our expeditions. But -- hey -- what good is all that if you're like a person who only has feet (instead of hands) to work with? That's about how I felt when the chips were down on our Ant World Expedition and we had to bust out the first aid kit. The only reason we didn't have enough Band-aids to go around was because I fumbled it getting them out of my pack and dropped most of them in the water.

   So, I can see why Sir Robert talks so much about practicing. It's for those times when you don't have enough time to think. You just automatically do what you practiced most. And guess what you'll do if you never practice anything? Nothing, that's what. Zip. First little sign of trouble, you'll fumble. Maybe even freeze up totally. Ask me how I know. Not that we were in any life-and-death situation out there (who ever died of an ant bite?), but I'm just saying.

   I need to practice some things, that's what I'm saying.

   That's why our whole patrol is gonna meet at the Outpost on Saturday for some drills. Which I -- as Captain -- will be more than ready to head up. On account of I'm gonna read exactly how we're supposed to do it all on Friday night. Heh, heh, heh... So, I am way glad I found that book. Oh, and about that little red warning that says it's for brave hearts only? Well, I'm gonna read it anyway. By myself, of course. Under the covers with a flashlight, in case I can't handle it.

   Hey-- whatever it takes.
          W.K.

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I Decide to Get Serious...

   OK. So, we've all heard it a million times. To get really good at something you gotta  be willing to put some serious time into it. Truthfully? I haven't put serious time into much of anything.  Ever. Except school. Which doesn't count because you don't get a choice with that.

   But I can't get this wilderness thing off my mind. I'm always thinking about it. And now that we have one of the best wilderness experts of all time as a Mystery Guest, I can't wait to try some of that stuff out. Seriously. There might have been a lot of changes in the world since he's been a kid, but you know what? We still have the same wilderness places. Hey-- the wilderness doesn't change. Not like everything else does. It's been the same for thousands of years. So, I figure the secrets to it haven't changed, either.

   That's why, if Sir Robert is still willing to let us in on them, I am way gonna figure out how to master some of that stuff. I have to. On account of-- as Captain -- I have my whole patrol depending on me to know what I'm talking about. OK, so it's only half a patrol. But it's a start. Now, I'm off to show them some woodcraft tricks.

   As soon as I spend some serious time with Sir Robert.

   Seriously.
    W.K.

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I'm Onto It...

   OK. I think I stumbled onto something way important about survival. That is, a lot more depends on who you are than what you do. Because if you don't have what it takes to survive in the first place, the rest doesn't matter. Which I was way bummed about, at first, because-- well, sheesh -- what if I don't have what it takes?

   Then something Sir Robert said today in the second part of our interview over at WKC, made me feel a whole lot better. You can get that way by practicing. No kidding. That's what he said. Course, I don't think Mom would let me do half the stuff he got to do when he was a kid (she's the "that was then, this is now!" kind of person) but he said there's other ways you can do it. Which is great for somebody like me, who gets sort of nervous in those situations. Especially around boats. But only when they rock. Hey-- I'm being honest.

   But maybe you should read it yourself.
         W.K.

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My Famous Interview...

   No kidding -- I could get famous just standing next to this guy! I mean, he's probably one of the best wilderness experts of all time. And get this -- I get to ask him any questions I want. So, you can bet I'm gonna find out everything I can from him.

   Then I'm gonna tell it all back to my patrol, and they're gonna think I am way cool. Heh, heh, heh...  Unless they head over to WKC and listen in. Hey -- no running!

   I'm outta here.
      W.K.

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Fired Up...

   WE WON THE PRIZE! Can you believe it? It was slow-going for a while (some of those clues were hard!) but we put our heads together (more heads are always better than one) and turned in our winning guess just before the deadline. OK, so one of the sisters actually guessed it. But whew! We really needed that FIRE BOOK. I hope some of you other Wilderness Protectors got one, too. If not, it will be available at the end of this week over at WKC.

   Like I say, you can't just take off into the wilderness without knowing some things, and building a decent fire is about the most basic skill there is. Because light, warmth, and cooking pretty much covers everything a person needs out there. Well, almost. Which is why Buddy's Uncle Joe agreed to take our whole patrol over to the fire pits at the picnic area and let us practice, this weekend. Hey -- you can't go lighting a bunch of fires in your piece of the wilderness unless it's in a campground somewhere and it's allowed. Which ours isn't and it's not. But there's lots of places to practice fire-building. Even in your own fireplace or barbecue at home (if your parents will let you).

   Anyway, we've got a lot coming up now that we know who the Mystery Guest is, but you'll have to head on over to WKC to find out. Heh, heh, heh...

I'll race you.
   W.K.

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Fighting the Monster...

   OK. This is how I beat the attack of the fear monster. There we were -- Buddy and me -- sitting up in that tree all by ourselves in the pitch dark, waiting for some animal to come to the drinking spot below. I was not too scared at that point, because we were safe up in the tree. But then we heard a noise. And it sounded big. Way big.

   First, I thought it could maybe be a bear, and that thought made me feel like somebody was trying to choke me all of a sudden. But then I remembered there hasn't been a bear sighting in our city for over a hundred years. Not even in this neighborhood park on the fringes of town. We didn't have any wolves or lions, either. After that, I calmed down a little. Then, I realized the crickets were still making a noise (and even a few frogs), so whatever animal it was, it couldn't be too dangerous.

   Then Buddy whispered, "Turn the light on, Dub!" (He always calls me that. It's short for W.)

    Which I was just about to do when I fumbled getting the clip off my belt and dropped it. KERPLUNK! Right in the water. Then we both went sort of ballistic. How could we get back to the Outpost in the dark? Should we sit up in this tree until Uncle Joe came back? What if something weird bit us? I think maybe we even hollered.

   That's when we noticed there were no more frog sounds. Even the crickets were quiet. We were making so much noise we scared everything off. I mean-- it was just like Uncle Joe said -- even the bugs were afraid of us. And that's when it happened. I lost my fear. I mean, it was gone. Zip. Totally.

   So, we jumped down from the tree and fished out the flashlight. On account of that creek is only two feet at its deepest spot, anyway. And the flashlight was waterproof. Then we climbed back up and finished what we came there to do. And I'm telling you, it felt pretty darn good, too. Oh -- and get this -- I was never afraid of the dark anywhere else anymore, either. Not even open closets. How cool is that?

Have a great weekend, and don't forget to practice some survival stuff!

W.K.

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