Troop 125 Celebrates 75 Years With A Hike Into The Past -- Boy Scouts Change While They Stay The Same

In 1916, Boy Scout Troop 125 took the street car to the end of the city limits at 85th Avenue North to begin their first hike - from the mud of Greenwood through the forests to Bitter Lake.

Yesterday, there were some stretches of "primitive sidewalk" and a light rainfall as the troop repeated the hike in honor of their 75th anniversary. But otherwise the only challenge came at a comics store when troop leader Miles Logsdon blocked the door.

But things have changed in 77 years (the troop lost a couple of years due to low registration), including society's general distrust.

"What is it?" a woman asked suspiciously, sticking her head out of her apartment door to watch the 11- to 16-year-old boys in self-designed troop hats, full packs and heavy boots stop for a compass bearing on their 3.5-mile hike.

"Is it a gang?"

"Oh, no," she was told. "This is the good side of kids."

The dictionary defines Boy Scouts as being members of a group that "stresses outdoor life and service to others." It goes on to say the slang for "boy scout" is a man who is regarded as being "very naive, idealistic," a disparaging term.

In 1916, when both this troop and the Chief Seattle Council were formed, being in uniform was honorable as the country prepared for World War I. Today, many of our ground wars are fought in urban jungles by aimless youth. The leadership and responsibility taught by the Boy Scouts are perhaps needed more than ever.

"Pre-adolescents have a need to organize," said Mark Steelquist, a Scout field director who joined yesterday's hike. These boys have the same leadership hierarchy, the same need for ritual as boys who are in gangs.

"But the difference between our group and the other group is that the adults are still in the loop."

Steelquist was one of four adults who stepped in to restore the shimmer of Troop 125 when its membership numbers dropped in the mid-1980s.

It was happening all across the country.

Scouting had a tough time surviving the cynicism of the past quarter century as the leadership struggled to find the right balance between maintaining tradition and making Scouting relevant to urban life.

It tipped too far toward modern life and away from the "Norman Rockwell image" in the 1970s. Officals got together and talked about the sociological implication of this action and that activity, Steelquist said. Scout leaders and kids who had joined up to go hiking scratched their heads.

"No kid joins because he wants his character built," said Steelquist.

Through a series of changes, including putting emphasis back on activities and letting the character building get stitched in unseen with the merit badges, Scouting began to gain again.

Today, there are 42,000 kids involved in the Chief Seattle Council. In parts of King County, as many as 70 percent of eligible kids are involved in Cub Scouts, Steelquist said.

Some kids still think its "dorky and stupid," said Bryan Edwards, 13, troop instructor for 125. But others think it's neat.

Perhaps most important of all, Edwards doesn't care what other kids think.

Gordon Merritt, liaison between Troop 125 and Woodland Park Presbyterian Church, which has always served as its sponsor, said some kids don't want their names printed in the paper when they make Eagle Scout, an honor awarded 99 Scouts in Troop 125 since the rank was formed.

It's seen as uncool, too wholesome at their schools.

But what's new? Merritt said his father, a Scout in the 1930s, told him he was mortified every February because he had to wear his uniform to school every day during Scout Week.

The thing that hasn't changed about Scouting is that it's a place where kids can get together without the peer pressure to limit their activities to only what's cool.

Since it takes adult involvement, it's also a place for kids to see their parents as real people. Only real people would eat Scout-cooked eggs covered in dirt or choke down campfire spaghetti that's missing the sauce.

"The truth is it's the best second childhood a guy can have," said Terry Barkley, assistant Scout master and father of Bobby Barkley, who led yesterday's hike with David Messent.

Both Barkley and Messent are 12. They're working on their requirements to become second class. Thus they stopped at street corners to take compass readings and write down landmarks. When they make first class, they can go along on the troop's annual 50-mile hike.

This particular troop has a lot of parental support. Last weekend, for instance, they had six parents and eight kids along on a 50-mile bike ride near Wenatchee.

Kids with no adult support aren't left out. The Boy Scouts have a program called "Learning for Life," where people on staff take the role usually held by parents.

The idea of Scouting is for the adults to slowly step into the background, said Steelquist. As the boys age, the leaders let them lead, even to the point of deliberately showing up late to see how they fared without them.

"Adults are just adults," said Steelquist, but "a 17-year-old is a god to a kid."