Survived the Labor Day workcamp at the Water Gap. Two days, morning to night, driven by commandant Overbaugh.
Has there been an event where the course setter and the director of course setting have done more forest maintenance? I moved the trees; he dispersed the jungle foliage. If the terrain resisted us, we pushed harder; if the forest blustered, we subjugated it. We worked for the good of the people, in the silence of the wilderness. Officialdom may disavow us; society misunderstands us. Who will sing the songs memorializing these labors? Who will venerate the nameless orienteering perfectionist?