Chapter 6 The Standard Class - from my book “Changes”

Chapter 6

The Standard Class

My new friends and I waited at Tom’s River Bus Station with all the other folks who had arrived by bus or car.  We looked like an odd assembly of old and young, from all different walks of life.  I was a little bit surprised to find out that there were doctors and lawyers attending as well as military.  Also there were young people who had grown up reading Tom’s books as well as grandmothers and housewives who had caught the Trackerschool fever.

Everyone was warmly dressed (it was October) and toting big backpacks or suitcases or duffel bags.  Some were in military khakis.  We stood around in little groups, or alone; talking to each other, or quietly; as we waited.

Finally the school vans showed up at the bus station and people started throwing gear into the backs of the vans and piling into the seats.  I stuck close to my three new buddies as we crammed as many people as would fit into the van.  Then we took off for the primitive camp.

Of course I had no idea where the primitive camp was but I was happy and felt perfectly safe.

The driver was young, tall, thin, had a short beard, wore glasses and an old, faded green, Cuba libra tarp hat (I had to look it up).  He was talking to some of the guys in the front about his father and Rick.

I asked him who his father was.

He said, “Tom Brown Jr.”

The pride I heard in his voice about being his father’s son was unmistakable.

Tom’s son’s name was, and is, Thomas Haughey Brown lll, otherwise known as T3.

We rolled into the open area of the main primitive camp after following pot holed sand roads for what seemed like miles.  There were intersections but no road signs.  I thought how easy it would be to get lost in here, and from some of the stories Tom tells, people easily get lost in the Pine Barrens, and sometimes they die before finding their way out.

After unloading our gear in the main camp, one of the young people who lived at the primitive camp as a caretaker gave us a tour.  If I remember correctly, her name was Therese.  Therese had a patch over one of her eyes because her eye had been scratched by a branch and it was healing.

All the structures there were open air.  There was the cooking area which was built up two or three steps off the ground.  There was the Taj, after the Taj Mahal, which was a large covered area with rough hewn, backless, wooden benches throughout to sit on, and a there was a stage for Tom and the other instructors to stand on during lectures, which was also built up off the ground.

We all knew to gather in the Taj when lectures and demonstrations were given.

There was also a lean-to along the trail to the swim area which was called the bow shed, and was used by the caretakers and interns for crafting bows and other things.  Next to the cooking structure, there was a smaller covered structure referred to as the tool shed, that had various tools in open cupboards under a rough wooden table.

We students often stood by the tool table to eat, either for the shade or to get out of the weather while visiting during meals.

Behind the tool shed was a decent sized, full standing height, army style pup tent called “The Dog House” where Tom and his instructors often spent their down time, and preparing for lectures.  We students were given strict instruction to never approach Tom when he was in the dog house (something I forgot about later in the week, which I’ll tell you about in a future chapter).

Other than those structures there was Grandfather Stalking Wolf’s sit area; a very small little spot with a wooden bench and an altar where students left things. I stepped into it and said, “Hello, Grandfather,” and I felt a beautiful, unmistakable energy wash over me and I believe Grandfather was greeting me back.

There was also a large cleared area called Grandfather’s camp, where a beautiful large fire pit was, and an altar where students left things.

At that time, when I was new to Trackerschool, there was also the hair from a horses tail, bound at the top, and hanging from a post near the altar.  Someone told me the tail hair had once been on a famous Native American’s horse  A few years later, when I was at a class there, I dreamed that that horse hair was dancing wildly while tethered to the post.  The next day when I went to Grandfather’s camp, the horse hair had come off the post and was on the ground!

Funny, I didn’t remember it being all that windy that night.

One of the Trackers put it back up on the post.

Another area we were shown was the swim area.  The water was fed by a spring and was the color of tea from all the tannins in it.  There were wooden walkways to the swim area once you got close to it, which was good because there was a lot of rain that week and the sand paths and the wooden walkways were flooded.  Luckily we could still see the wooden planks through the shallow reddish water so I could still get the the swim area.

The swim area is a beautiful spot, with generous wooden docks around it for sitting on or standing during lectures in Scout class.  There is a log that goes across the large pool that is used only for scout class when crossing it blindfolded or fighting your partner with lances over the water!

That first evening the instructors laid out the rules and explained the boundaries of the camp that we were to stay within.  They pointed out some areas further away where the more advanced classes are sometimes is taken for exercises, but out of bounds to us: a place called Hell and a place called Spirit Hill.

To top it off, the interns let us in on a challenge given to all the students … if you can touch a deer while at the Standard class, you will get free classes for the rest of your life.

If you claim to touch a deer, Tom will inspect the tracks to verify your story.

At that time, if I remember correctly, there were about 45 people who had done it out of the thousands of students who had gone through the Standard class at Trackerschool.

I didn’t even try.  Each day was so full; packed with lectures and learning exercises, ending at about 10 pm each night, I was too tired to do anything but crawl into my bed when the last lecture was over.