Exploring An Abandoned Scout Camp

Abandoned places are one of my very favorite things to explore. They are a snapshot in time, each with its own unique story to tell. Sometimes these are just pieces of what once was, such as with Madam Sherri's Castle, while other times they remain fully intact but forgotten. This is the case of a scouting camp I recently explored around a lake in eastern New Hampshire. It sits untouched, but it sits alone and forgotten.

As you would expect of a youth camp, this one's situated in a fairly secluded area of woods that would be perfect if there were ever a sequel to Friday The 13th, New Hampshire edition. Riding my mountain bike down a trail I should not have been on, the first thing to greet me was this crumbling shack and stone foundation. It would be maybe a quarter-mile before the first of the bunkhouses appeared, which made me wonder if this structure was unrelated to the camp. I now believe it was, for as I learned throughout the afternoon this is an area of woods that has lived more than one life.

After passing a couple side trails that I promised to return and explore another day, I spotted the first of the camp's cabins through the trees. It was boarded up but in sturdier condition than the sunroom we tore off our house a few years back.

There was a time when hiking these woods was allowed and people were free to walk among - but not inside - the cabins. That changed many years ago however, and the entire property is now marked as no trespassing. Once again I am guilty of this crime, but once again I was careful to take nothing but pictures and leave nothing but footprints. Or in this case, bicycle tracks.

I also witnessed the kinds of activity that led to this unfortunate decision to kick out the public.

Beer, peanut butter, and Smuckers. Tough to think of a more well-rounded diet than that.

I pride myself on being a pretty good Internet sleuth, but I pretty much laid an egg when trying to dig up information on this place, when it operated and when it shut down. I found a couple newspaper articles referencing jamborees here in the 70's, but nothing more recent. It's certainly been a long time since any kids have enjoyed chucking each other off of this dock.

Sitting on a hilltop that looks down over the once teeming lake, this cabin once had the vest view of the camp, and by the char-coaled logs in the firepit it's clear there's still a few people stopping by to enjoy the view every now and then. Maybe while enjoying a Budweiser or two?

I followed signs that have long since faded but at least gave clues as to which trails had things to see down them.

Which eventually led me to this larger cabin, which I'm guessing to be the counselor's bunks.

And not far from there, the mess hall. And a lesson. The bad thing about taking pictures alone is that nobody is there to remind you to take off your helmet because you look like a dork.

In total I found somewhere around a dozen structures (counting a couple outhouses), but I also found remnants of the life this land lived prior to the scouts moving in. This included several more foundations such as this one.

And the bonus find of the day - plus an indication of how far back this land dates - this 1800's cemetery sitting a short ways off the main trail. It took me a minute to figure out what was unusual about it, but I realized when approaching there was no entrance built into the gate, so to get a closer look I had to swing my leg over the top bar like Andrew The Giant entering the ring.

These woods are rich with history and a fascinating place to explore. With the foundation ruins and family cemetery I imagine this was once a vast farmland like much of old New England. Then the crops went away and the scouts took over, and however many hundreds or even thousands of teenagers enjoyed hiking these trails, swimming in what used to be a lake, and making friends from all over the state. As a child scout myself I took many weekend trips to places such as Camp Carpenter in Manchester, and although the specifics of those trips have faded with age, the enjoyment I remember - from the excitement leading up to them, to the adventures and fun when they came - has only grown more pleasant.

Somewhere in New Hampshire there are people who have these same nostalgic feelings when thinking back on this camp, and if I were Donald Trump rich I like to think I'd buy these woods simply to create a hiking preservation and open it to the public, letting those people walk the land and, for a day, revisit the memories of their childhood.