My experience with Camp Pyles started in the Summer of 1985. Selected by the Boy’s Dean at Griffith Jr. High School, Frank Peranelo, I was given an opportunity that would positively change my life.

I can’t recall how I made it to Beach Park in Bakersfield but I do remember seeing two very large Orange Belt buses that to me looked like limousines. They were very nice inside and the air conditioner was on full blast. My bus was super comfortable. After a short stay at the park and free snacks, we boarded the buses and off we went. I was completely amazed at the sight of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range. The tall green Christmas trees, the smell of vanilla in the air, and the deer and birds that would cross our path as the bus traveled through the winding roads was more than what I could have ever imagined.

I grew up in East Los Angeles. No Christmas trees, no vanilla smells and the only critters I saw were wild dogs that would chase me as I trekked the daily two miles to get to school. My home life was nothing to brag about. My mother was as loving as could be; my step father was a hardworking, but mean, alcoholic, my neighborhood was plagued with gangs and violence, so, the only thing that made my childhood bearable was my friends and school. I loved playing catch with a baseball and friends. I loved going to school and meeting new friends. I loved my teachers and school advisors, and that’s how I met Mr. Peranelo.

After looking out the window for about 2 hours, my bus stopped at the middle of the forest (Quaking Aspen). At over 7,000 feet in elevation, the air was cold, the ground filled with dew, and everywhere you touched was sticky due to sap from the trees. I was then escorted to one of four lines and this lanky older man, soft in his mannerisms and words, approached me and said, “They call me ‘Leggit.’ Would you like to be a part of my group?” With an extended but firm handshake, we made a gentleman’s agreement and the next two weeks were completely amazing. ‘Leggit’s River Rats’ was the name of our group, and I was his Honor Camper.

Those two weeks changed me. I returned to the City with a different yet focused outlook. I knew what I wanted and I knew what was beyond East Los Angeles. For the first time in my life I saw a horse, a brahma bull, Christmas trees planted in the ground, water from a natural spring, chipmunks, and trees that smelled like vanilla. What I learned was: nothing is given but it’s there for the taking. A short effort equals results. More effort, more results. It was up to me to make the change.

The years that followed were just as amazing if not more so. Lion Meadows and the Pyles Leadership Training program prepared me to become a permanent staff member at Pyles Camp. Since then, I’ve worked every position in Camp and I’ve hiked most of the Golden Trout Wilderness and Kern River basin areas.

One of the greatest goals that I achieved while being part of the Pyles Camp family was graduating from two colleges with two degrees. Thanks to the generosity of the Board of Directors and the Scholarship Committee, I was provided with the means to continue a higher education. In combination with the school scholarship, working summers at camp and doing winter follow ups for Camp, I made enough money to sustain myself during school. Thereafter, I enrolled in the Police Academy and decided to give back to the community that did so much for me through a career in Law Enforcement.

This past summer I had the pleasure of spending a session at camp leading the Worker Training Program. I noticed that even though much time has passed, the power of the program has not changed. What had not changed was the 1st day puzzled look on the campers’ faces and the last day tears of joy from those campers that took advantage of the program. What I would like to remind every camper that’s out there is, there is no true last camp fire. The last camp fire has been burning since 1949 and it will continue to burn for many years to come as long as you choose to be a part of it.

To this day 34 years later, I am still a part of R.M. Pyles Boys Camp. I hope the next 34 years are just as exciting. Thank you all. In the Camp Spirit … Jaguar.