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I get to roam and live in a place rich both in nature and history. First explored by the English in 1584, a full generation before Jamestown this area is a history buff's delight. I spend as much time as possible paddling the backwaters and creek looking for the places where Weapemeaoc and Chowanoke villages might of stood. Canoeing into Sarem Creek is like stepping back 400 years in time, awesome..With Bennett Creek only a short portage away, or the Chownan river 3 miles out it's easy to get lost out here for a few hours, or even a week at a time. The only downside is that neither the Council, nor the District has done nothing to date to promote this diversity into any outdoor program...


Here's a look at the place where hangs my hat...



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Since June, on the island of Oahu (Honolulu, to be proper, since the whole island comprises the city and county of Honolulu). An amazing array of microclimates here. Most associate Hawaii with lush tropical gardens. Lots of those, on the windward side of the island, which also gets most of the rain. On the leeward side, where we live, it's near desert, with less than 20" of rain a year. We're at near sea level, but go toward the mountains a few miles, and the temperature drops 10 degrees. Rainbows every day, and starry skies that nearly rival the Montana sky when I lived there. During my 18-mile commute, I pass Pearl Harbor, the USS Arizona memorial, then walk into a building that is still riddled with bullet holes from the Japanese attack over 60 years ago.


Whoever coined the term melting pot had Hawaii in mind. Native Hawaiians are the minority, with half the population from other Asian countries.


Many bugs, but no snakes.


Great food; shave ice, plate lunch, malasadas, haupia pie, ethnic food from everywhere.


Very casual; aloha shirts and flip-flops are acceptable attire for just about any occasion. Wonderful, friendly people.


Aloha Council Camp Pupukea offers a great out-of-council camping program if you want to bring your Troop here to camp...



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North Carolina . . .


Looking at the pics made me feel how much I miss that state. Spent 5 years at Fort Bragg while I was assigned there. But I made it a point to get lost in the country to know my way around. I didn't like the barracks life. I spent weekends stomping around beaches around Wilmington and Onslow Beach. I love the fishing there, especially up at Jordan Lake. I miss the pistachios down at Dublin. I used to by them by the bags whenever I drove by from Wilmington on my way back to Bragg. Sure do miss the Triangle. I loved camping in Asheville. Well, actually past Asheville towards the reservation. Made many friends there. I spent time exploring the Outerbanks during Spring Break and 3-4 day weekends when I wasn't on duty. Most of all I miss the Jumps at Ft. Bragg.


Matua(This message has been edited by matuawarrior)

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At first I didn't understand the question. I thought it was about where we live and what we love about it. I'll get to that in another thread I'm about to start under council relations.


If by "where hangs your hat?" you mean a special place that we love and visit again and again in our mind -- a place of awe and beauty, I'll be happy to share mine with you.


Mine is in the Cusichaca River Valley in the mountains of Peru. I lived there for six weeks in 1987 as part of an archaeology dig. From the back window of my two-man Eureka Timberline, I awoke every morning to the sight of Huinni Huanu -- the mountain that Paramount uses as its logo. There was always a crisp chill in the air as a member of the dig walked around beating on the bottom of a pot to wake us up. We pulled on two or three alpaca sweaters and staggered to the dining tent for breakfast.


The waters of the Urabamba river could be heard below crashing down from the glacier on the mountain. Fog gradually lifted as we climbed the steep trails up the sides of the mountain as the sun chased away the fog and the mountains revealed themselves in their Andean glory.


It was quite a place.



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My hat is sitting on a big rock somewhere along the Colorado River where it runs through the Grand Canyon.


I'm on another 18-day river trip, a private trip where the participants do the work and pilot the boats. I'm not exactly sure what day it is or how far we've come. It's easy to lose track of time when passing through such a mesmerizing place. We've just pulled in off the river, soaked from running the last huge, exhilarating rapid of the day. The water is amazingly frigid considering its June and the temperature hovers around 100 mid-day. I'm drying and warming up on these rocks, boulders actually, the size of trucks. The heat radiating off these rocks and canyon walls will have me warmed up in short order, maybe too warm if I sit here too long. Well, I better get up and help unload the boats and set up the kitchen before someone accuses me of slacking. I cant wait for dinner. Mmmmm, we're grilling steaks tonight! Wow, would you look at how the sun is hitting the buttes at the top of the canyon? Awesome! Oh man, we run Crystal tomorrow! Now, where did I set my hat....


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