Back when I was 'just a kid', I joined the Boy Scouts, with a few of my buddies. There were several troops in our little Village, most of them had been in existence for a long time, and they met mostly in various churches or small private schools. Of course, the troop I joined was a fairly new one, and met not in a church or small place, but in the gymnasium of Stratford Avenue School, the place where I attended grades 3 - 6. 
I'm not sure if it was due to the fact that we were a 'new' troop, with fairly new, inexperienced leaders, or because we met in a large room that was conducive to running around like a bunch of wild indians (yes, I know, not politically correct - too bad), or because we had mostly a bunch of kids who were too familiar with each other from living in the same neighborhood, but this was one WILD troop! Meetings would start out innocently enough, with the presenting of the flags, announcements, etc., and the leaders would usually make an attempt at a demonstration or lecture about some Scout skill that we needed to learn, but most weeks that deteriorated pretty quickly into a non-authorized game of 'keep away' with someone's hat, neckerchief, shoes, or whatever.
Despite all of the stuff that went on, or maybe because of it, we had a pretty good time, and not too many kids ever dropped out; none of us ever advanced very far either, but we gained an appreciation for some of the things we learned, and some of us developed a lifelong love of going camping and enjoying the great outdoors.
So what brought on this little treatise about the Scouts? Well, I had a short road trip this week, out to Buffalo NY to do some tweaking on the Buffalo State College pool. Now, from Long Island, it's close to 430 miles each way to Buffalo, and you can route yourself out through NJ and PA (80W to 380N to 81N to 90W), which a lot of folks do, since all of those roads are large, fairly straight interstate roads, and you can make decent time on them.
The Alternative is to go over the Tappan Zee to the NY Thruway, and pick up old Route 17 through the Catskills, hook up with 81N at Binghampton, then grab 90W at Syracuse. This route is about 1 mile longer, and MapQuest says 10 minutes slower than going out through NJ and PA. But I always take this route, even though there are some slow zones, and you need to watch carefully for the State Troopers who do speed enforcement along the way.
Why do I go this way? Simple, when I was in Scouts, we'd go camping several times a year at Camp Onteora, in Livingston Manor NY, right off exit 98 on Route 17. And Dad, who was one of the Assistant Scoutmasters, would drive us up and back to camp on 17.
I can remember it like it was yesterday. He'd have worked his usual 50 - 60 hour week, come rumbling up the driveway in his little Valiant station wagon, and instead of popping a beer or two and finally relaxing a bit and resting up from the week's work, he'd start packing tents and sleeping bags, camp stoves, all sorts of stuff in the car.
Mom would have dinner ready, or we'd get a pizza, and right after we ate, off we went to meet the Troop. Dad would take one or two additional Scouts and their gear into the car, and the journey began.
Leaving Long Island on a Friday evening to go upstate was as much or more of a challenge back then than it is today. Traffic was awful, the car wasn't air conditioned, all you had to listen to was an AM radio, and with Dad's chain smoking and short temper in traffic, well, it was an experience that not too many kids are going to have today!
Now, Livingston Manor is about 140 or so miles away, and driving at the speed limit, you can get there in maybe 2 hours, 2 and a half if you go slow. But back then, with 50 mph speed limits on most of the roads, and the limitations of the cars, it was always four hours or more to get there. And not much to do on the way up there, either. Not a lot of roadside attractions to look for; in fact, not too many service stations either. We'd have our landmarks along the way, the Throgs Neck bridge, then the Tappan Zee (right by Sleepy Hollow!). Then there was a castle like building on the Rockland County side, way up on the mountain; Monticello Raceway, the hospital; the VFW post on the west side of 17; then finally Willoweemoc Creek and the Willoweemoc Motel, and we're there!
Turn right off of 17, follow the road for about 5 miles, then left into the camp. Come up on the narrow old wooden bridge, Dad would say "I hope it doesn't collapse like it did to those guys last month", and then we'd hear the wood creaking and silently hope he was kidding!
Pitch the tents in darkness, hoping that we'd wake up and find we had a 'good' campsite, one equally close to the lake and the latrines, and away from the stream that runs through the place, loaded with trout, and known to attract black bears.
Run ourselves into exhaustion on Saturday, get to bed late after a campfire and some silly 'horror' stories, and on Sunday morning, wake up to Dad's coffee, sausages/bacon and eggs. Of all the Scoutmasters, Dad was the only one who insisted on cooking breakfast both Saturday and Sunday. Other kids would be having corn flakes and milk, and we'd have this great hot breakfast. He always said, especially when you're outdoors, that hot breakfast set the tone for the day.
Pack the cars, and now we'd get to fight the traffic going back towards NYC. Remember, this was the mid 1960's, and lots of the Catskill resorts and camps were still very active, and the traffic on 17 on a Sunday could be as bad as it is today on the Belt Parkway at rush hour. So the trip home would be not four hours, but closer to five or five and a half. Finally back on Long Island; drop the other kids off, get home, unpack the car, take the tents into the back yard, clean them, hang them on the clothes line (you young kids can ask me for a definition of 'clothesline'), clean the cooking gear, and finally, just around dinner time, he'd be done, and he'd get his Schmidt's or Rhinegold as his reward.
And so, I take 17 whenever I can. And I look for the sights just like I did when I was a kid. The Throgs Neck is $7.50 one way now, instead of .50c; the castle place is long gone, the hospital is a lot bigger, Monticello Raceway now has slot machines and other 'casino' games; there are gas stations and convenience stores along the way, and the VFW Post is also gone; having been remodeled into a faux log cabin, it's been 'for rent' now for several years; the Willoweemoc Motel has closed it's doors, and even the "Lazy Beagle" pub, which was a Livingston Manor landmark for years is gone.
The camp is still there, and better than ever. The Nassau Council helped fund a new dining hall several years ago. The lake is still pristine and beautiful, the stream is still loaded with trout, and that old wooden bridge is still scaring kids with it's creaking and squeaking when a car rides over it. I know, because years later, I drove my sons, and their Scout buddies to that very same camp. And I hope that one day, they'll be blogging, or whatever they'll call it in the future, about some fun memories they have of going up good old 17 with their Dad.
As for me, once in a while, I look in the rear view mirror of the car, and I can swear I see a little wisp of cigarette smoke and a faint smile looking back at me.