HISTORY

Once upon a time, long long ago, in May of 1974, a small group of Tekes went canoeing on Sugar Creek near Terre Haute, Indiana. Little did these fraters know that an annual tradition of rustic camaraderie was being born.

In May of 1975, Neil Fowler organized a three-day canoe trip on the White Water River in southern Indiana. We carried all our camping gear (no tents - we were optimists) in the canoes and camped wherever we wished alongside this winding river of sandbars and forests. A violent rainstorm and suddenly rising river made the trip a memorable challenge of rollicking whitewater, and a slightly larger group returned the following year. Though we were still optimists, experience behooved us to bring more suitable shelter in 1976.

In 1977 (correct me if I'm wrong), Jet Townsend and Jon Gehring began organizing the annual Memorial Day Canoe Trip on Sugar Creek with the group camping in the Turkey Run area for the weekend. Sugar Creek is a river moving through impressive sandstone structures and picturesque covered bridges. With frequent sandbars perfectly situated for gatherings of youthful partiers, the popularity of the event grew. At its zenith, as many as 75 people were deployed into the easy moving currents of this peaceful river.

Then in 1980, the agenda of Indiana law enforcement diverted the flow of our happy hedonists. As we drifted around a bend in the river, a discerning eye would have noticed a pair of binoculars held by a uniformed representative of Hoosier justice. The river narrowed as we came upon a sandbar teeming with Indiana State Police. They were looking for underage drinkers and inadvertently captured a young dental student with a modicum of controlled substance.

Though the group helped to make her bail and she later concluded her probationary period without damage to her fledgling career, the magical abandon of Sugar Creek was changed forever. In 1981, we searched for a new river to host the never-ending party, and the Kankakee River in north central Illinois was chosen.

The Kankakee River is generally wide and slow moving through an area of private residences and occasional powerboats. This was not conducive to our canoeing philosophy of frequent stops to exchange social amenities, but the camping was first rate (with the exception of a few problems with the neighbors). We were allotted unlimited freeform space in a group camping area of rolling grassy hills and giant leafy trees. This, along with the presence of an outstanding nearby restaurant (the Yesteryear Inn) encouraged us to return in 1982. But we felt a need for a more secluded river - a private setting where our extended family could perfect the marathon mini-vacation.

In 1983, we found the fabled Pigeon River in the northeastern corner of Indiana. A small river winding through the woods, occasional dams have been constructed to create refuge for native waterfowl and habitat for state managed river trout. Though there are few sandbars or other areas suitable for massive gatherings, river traffic is light and the current is easy and consistent. We can lay back and let the river do the work, merely guiding its flow to our ultimate destination.

That year, we camped at the Mongo Trading Post in Mongo, Indiana. Now, bad weather has never been a stranger at these events. We have huddled under a single tarp for days at a time, drinking and smoking and playing games (remember Maniac?) to have the sun peak out only moments before we hit the river. But camping next to a river during a period of constant rain proved highly unadvisable.

In 1984, we switched our campsites to Pokagon State Park outside Angola, Indiana, but continued to utilize the lazy waters of the Pigeon River.

In 1985, we returned to Sugar Creek. Age and experience had tutored us in the art of the discrete party, though Indiana law enforcement did not choose to test us again. A fun time, but the water was low and we had to get out and pull our canoes a great deal. So, we decided to return to the Pigeon River in 1986, where we have remained to this very day.

Nineteen years have passed since the first small group embarked on their journey of fun and friendship. Times have changed. We have changed. What was originally an expression of fraternal relationships and youthful hedonism has evolved into a diverse group of fraters, their friends and their families. Yet for some of us, the annual Memorial Day Camping Trip is our one chance each year to see and talk to friends from a time of magical exuberance. It is a time to exchange and renew.

This event is a tribute to all our efforts to remain connected - to capture what we were and examine what we have become. When I tell acquaintances of our group and our annual gathering, they marvel at our perseverance and envy our ability to even vaguely recapture these feelings at the core of our experience. Let us rededicate ourselves to our efforts.

And now, down to business. As we get older, our interests change. Familial obligations evolve. Our time endures greater constraints. Some people travel great distances just to see the group for a few short hours. And our ability to shrug off the cold and the wet diminishes until it is found soaking in a hot tub at the Holiday Inn.

Through the years many suggestions have been made to improve this gala event. Move it to Florida. Make it a Caribbean cruise. Change it to a houseboat trip on Kentucky Lake. Or how about Lake Mead near Las Vegas? Or a whitewater rafting trip down the Colorado River? Or return to the White Water River? Perhaps move it to the 4th of July. Or Labor Day. All these options have their merits.

In the past, the decision as to time and place has been driven by one overriding objective - maximum attendance. Subsequently, we have focused on the midwestern region and continued to gather on Memorial Day weekend. To insure the survival of this tradition, we are asking for your hard thought, pragmatic input.

Keep in mind that there is nothing written which demands a single annual gathering. But numerous options may scatter the group. When all the questionnaires are returned, it well may be that we will simply continue as tradition dictates. But the process of examination could yield improvement and pleasure.

In 1993, the first history of the Gamma Psi Memorial Day Canoe Trip was compiled. At that time, we polled the group for input into the future direction of the event. After digesting the responses, we decided to build upon the time-honored formula of camping and canoeing on Memorial Day weekend. That year, Scott Ruder started our first annual scavenger hunt. A big hit with everyone, especially the chronologically challenged; it was repeated in the two years following.

We stayed at Pokagon State Park in Angola through 1996, but the weather in that area seemed at odds with our need for greater comfort, as we grew older and wiser. So, in 1997, Lori Vogel helped to redirect the event to Lake Shelbyville in southern Illinois. While rain was still our near constant companion that year, it was a bit warmer than up north. Canoeing was not an option in that area, but John Doti rented a pontoon boat on Sunday so that we could take turns travelling along the shoreline of the lake.

The following year, Gary Ruder began the process of returning us to our roots at Turkey Run State Park. In 1998 and 1999, we shared camping space in the one of the more open, unwooded areas of the campground. This was the first time electrical hookups were provided. The canoe trip regained its stature as a focus of the event. One difference however, was that we were planning less time on the river, as Sugar Creek was much more crowded than in our early days and the changing structure of the river eroded the once plentiful sandbars on which we used to lounge.

In 2000, the Indiana Department of Natural Resources stopped taking camping reservations, creating a barrier to our normal communal camping experience. So, at the last moment, we needed to find a suitable alternative. Ultimately, we settled on a private campground at the Deer's Mill Covered Bridge on the river at the edge of Shades State Park. Our canoeing experience was facilitated by the fact that we simply needed to cross the covered bridge to rent our canoes and kayaks and enter the river.

Rain was still with us, so the next year, some of the group rented a small chalet that adjoined the primitive campsites we occupied. The campground faced a tall rock wall on the opposite side of Sugar Creek. It was a beautiful location, with birds nesting in the rocks, swooping down to skim the surface of the water. Pine Hills Nature Preserve was about a mile down the road - a great place to hike and reflect. Ben Vogel made homemade videos using many of the kids as extras, leaving an indelible record in the minds of all.

In 2004, a change in INDNR's reservation policies allowed us to once again camp at Turkey Run State Park. That year, the cicadas were swarming, making the experience a bit noisy and somewhat messy. The close proximity of the Turkey Run Inn was an advantage for many of the group needing a real bed and a more private hot shower. In 2005, a tornado nearly went through the campsite, sending all that persevered to temporarily seek shelter at the inn on Sunday night.

In 2006, Gary Ruder moved our reservations to the newer more wooded campsites in the park, where our experiment in endlessly recurring memorial worship continues to the present day.