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The Delaware Water Gap has a long history in both geological and cultural development. It is located in northwestern New Jersey (map 1). Today, the area is part of the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area. The location of Camp Pahaquarra was on the southern shore of the Delaware River, just downstream from Poxono Island (map 2). Historical DevelopmentWe offer a historical perspective of four authors. Most of the set of Pahaquarra pages was organized and edited by Larry Gering (see below). The section, "In Conclusion" was written by Larry.
I visited
the site in 1998, the first time in 25 years.
I wandered around Camp Pahaquarra and looked at the foundation of
the dining hall and the crumbling remains of the trading post.
I climbed up the hill and found evidence of Cree and Netop
campsites. I looked into the
entrance to one of the copper mines and sat on a mossy rock that was once
part of the Durling Ceremony Grounds.
Everything was overgrown - not just with weeds or saplings but with
large trees. Truly, many years had passed since Camp Pahaquarra had
closed. I headed down to the
waterfront. There was no
indication that a cabin had sat on the banks overlooking the swimming
area. The only witnesses to
the "old days" were the massive trees bordering the river and a single
cement step along the path, before it dropped down to the shoreline. I sat on
that step and tried to see countless Scouts swimming in the river, trying
to earn a merit badge or simply trying to figure out how to inflate their
pants to use as a floatation device.
But all I saw were ripples in the river as fish rose to eat evening
insects. I sat on
that step and tried to hear my father playing the bugle "come and get
your chow, boys, come and get your chow" from the Pahaquarra of 1943.
Or maybe the sounds of the bolt-action .22s up at the rifle
range (10 shots for a quarter in 1969).
But all I heard was the wind blowing through the trees. I sat on
that step and tried to detect the faintest whiff of cooking from the
dining hall - maybe bacon
frying or cupcakes baking. But
all I could smell was a piece of fresh mint that I had crushed with my
boot. I sat on that step and watched the Delaware River flow slowly past me. I learned to swim and canoe in that river and I learned to be a boy and a man at that camp. But I recognized that my youth was just a fleeting moment in time for the Delaware, as was forty-six years of Camp Pahaquarra. But before I became too sad, I remembered I had one last stop to make. Just the thought of stopping at Hot Dog Johnny's for a 'dog with mustard and onions and an ice cold birch beer was enough to make me say "things are OK." Larry Gering
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