Camp Clarke Raiders

Family-style Muzzleloading

The camp began to stir as a few early risers stepped out of their canvas tents and tipis to build fires for breakfast, fetch

Mike "Skunk" Rice of Wheatland, Wyoming enjoys morning coffee outside his lodge at the Raiders' 2005 Memorial Day Rendezvous.

water, or just admire the towering butte across the creek as it caught the day's first golden light. It was a big encampment - 20 lodges or more nestled in the trees along the near bank of the creek and about as many on the far side.

It could easily have been a scene from another time - a campsite full of people wearing buckskin britches and calico shirts, fussing over sturdy Plains rifles and an occasional slender Kentucky rifle as they waited for breakfast. A trader's tent was filled with tomahawks, wide-brimmed hats, flints, and numerous gadgets and gewgaws. It was reminiscent of an 1830s rendezvous, where mountain men met with traders in remote Rocky Mountain valleys to sell their catch of furs and secure another year's supply of powder and ball, knives, coffee, tobacco, whiskey and other necessities.

Evidence of the 21st century was hard to spot in the "traditional" camp on the north bank of the creek - in fact, all that gave it away was the glint of hardware coming through the trees from the encampment on the opposite bank as sunlight reflected off the bumpers and fixtures of modern vehicles and campers. "Amenities" (outhouses) stood a short distance away on one side, and playground equipment at the other. The Camp Clarke Raiders were on their Pumpkin Creek stomping grounds in the shadows of Courthouse and Jail rocks south of Bridgeport as they observed their 30th anniversary in 2005. Some of their celebrating would be done Memorial Day weekend at their spring rendezvous, and the rest at their Labor Day weekend rendezvous.

People in strange dress - blue jeans, shorts, T-shirts and ball caps -started appearing on the near side of the creek, having descended from the parking lot on the high ground or crossed the Pumpkin Creek time warp between their modern campground and this encampment of the 1800s. Soon the crack of muzzleloading rifles and the bouquet of black powder smoke drifting in from the range would overpower the chatter of the camp and its aroma of woodsmoke and frying bacon.

Lanterns and campfires are lit as the sun sets behind Courthouse Rock and dusk settles in.

After the visitors plied the traditional campers with their usual questions - "What's he doing?" or "What's that contraption for?" - the inevitable "Why do you do this?" was bound to come.

"That's the real question. I hope we're doing this because it's fun. That's what this is all about," said LeRoy Eichthaler, club president and one of the original Raiders.

"And we want people to know that we'd like to share it with them," added Rod Skarboe, also one of the original Raiders and a current member of the club's board of directors. "This is a fun place, a safe place, and whoever wants to come out and see it for themselves is welcome."

This willingness to open their camp and share the fun they've discovered wasn't always standard Raiders' practice. In the early days, the group kept their shoots and rendezvous strictly "stag."

In 1975, Skarboe, Eichthaler and a few others met and formed their black powder club at the Camp Clarke Bridge site a few miles west of Bridgeport. Camp Clarke was a frontier army blockhouse that guarded a vital bridge over the North Platte River, and accounts for the first part of the organization's name. As for the rest of the name: "We thought we were kind of wild and tough, and that's where the 'Raiders' part came from," Eichthaler chuckled.

Don "Hondo" Hall of Bridgeport tends to breakfast while a hungry Rod "Wildman" Skarboe waits impatiently.

After a few years, the Raiders decided to become a more family-oriented group and adopted corresponding bylaws. A club safety director position was created, and since then a range officer has always been in charge whenever any shooting is done.

Women and children are now welcome on the firing line, and several other events are geared toward them as well. "The men are still shooting, the wives have been shooting for some time and now our kids and some grandkids are shooting. It's really a family thing now, and that's not just here at Bridgeport. Just about every black powder club in Nebraska and surrounding states has gone through something like this," Eichthaler said.

The Raiders and other clubs of their type were built around shooting venerable, old-style black powder guns, usually replicas of firearms from the early 1800s, and that is still the case today. Modern "in-line" muzzleloaders, on the other hand, are not regarded with favor or allowed on the firing line.

During the rendezvous the Raiders' range is usually busy from 8 a.m. until after sunset with men, women and kids shooting in all kinds of competitions and games, but there are also events that involve more than shooting. These include tomahawk, knife and spear throwing competitions; fire-starting with flint and steel; and various "mountain man runs" that usually involve shooting, throwing, setting traps and other skills.

One particularly zany Raiders event is "LeRoy's Famous Pancake Run." Eichthaler is probably the LeRoy guilty of concocting this competition, which consists of a mountain gal preparing an egg and pancake, extracting a draught of milk from a wooden cow and serving the breakfast to her

Jessica (left) and Kassidy Kildow of Bridgeport play patty-cake as they wait for breakfast.

mountain man. Since it is a timed event, the egg and pancake spend but a few seconds on the griddle and the mountain gal must be quick of hand and fleet of foot. Since this is not exactly a gourmet experience, it is also best if the mountain man has a huge sense of humor and an iron stomach.

Shooting events at these rendezvous can be equally imaginative. First, there are no paper targets. Instead, the Raiders shoot at a variety of iron targets at all kinds of distances as part of individual, couples and team competitions with rifles and pistols. Some of the targets are iron silhouettes of prairie dogs, rabbits, chickens, turkeys, turkey heads, coyotes, buffalo and pigs. The farthest target, a bear, is 180 yards from the shooter. There are also gongs, spinning targets that resemble weather vanes and iron plates suspended from wires

Dar "Duh" Panas of Bridgeport fires at an iron silhouette on the Raiders' range.

partway up a very distant bank. To the right of the plates is an iron skunk that many shooters consider the most difficult target of all. "We don't like shooting paper," Skarboe said. "When we shoot, we like to see something fall over, move or make some noise."

For the club's poker shoot, contestants roll dice to determine which target they are supposed to shoot and which shooting position they must use. If they hit their target, they draw a card from a deck. Luck in rolling the dice for easy targets and in drawing a good hand is at least as important as a steady hand and a keen eye for this contest - the winner is determined by the best poker hand at the end of five rounds.

Speedy loading and accurate shooting is the deciding factor in the post shoot, which is won by the first threesome to cut a four-inch post completely in two with rifle balls from a distance of 25 yards. There's also trap shooting with muzzle-loading shotguns, various pistol competitions and a candle shoot after dark in which shooters try to snuff out a flame without hitting the candle.

While the Raiders' shoots differ quite a bit from what other clubs do, club members have just as much fun competing at the other events. "We've gone to some clubs that do nothing but shoot holes in paper. They don't even have any silhouettes. You know you're going to shoot paper when you leave home, and you go to have fun, meet people, greet friends ... the same people that come here to shoot our iron targets. A lot of the people at this rendezvous are from those clubs," Eichthaler said.

The good, clean fun of building, fussing over and shooting of old-style muzzleloaders is an important appeal of "buckskinning," as it is sometimes called, but for those who get involved in mountain man dress and period equipment and skills, it has a deeper meaning. "We're re-creating a period that we missed out on ... we should have been there," Skarboe said.

Brenda Pike of Kearney tries her hand at shooting a traditional muzzleloader with the help of her stepfather, Jim Winslow.

"It's something we learned in our history books. Now we're living it, and we're passing it on to the kids," added Nancy Eichthaler, LeRoy's wife and the club's secretary.

According to LeRoy Eichthaler, his buckskins, lodge and other period accouterments are merely options as far as rendezvousing is concerned. "You don't have to have it, but it's just something that we like to do, running around at a rendezvous in period dress. In the traditional camp, you step back in life. There's no TV, there's no cell phones," he said.

Many of today's traditional buckskinners make their period clothing and equipment themselves. Some of them hit the books or the Internet to learn about authentic dress and gear of the American West in the 1820s and '30s. Or they look around at various rendezvous until they decide what they're going to make and how it's going to look.

Other people buy period clothes and paraphernalia from vendors at black powder events or various catalogs and specialty stores. A piece of buckskin costs about $4 per square foot and a pair of buckskin pants and shirt or a buckskin dress sells for about $300. A tipi cover will cost $800 to $1,000, and 17 tipi poles at about $17 each will add up to nearly $300 more. "Either way, they're going above and beyond, getting into the spirit of this and trying to do everything they can to make it original," Skarboe said.

Ignited by sparks from a flint and steel, tinder erupts in flames during one of a rendezvous' many competitions.

Indeed, some go beyond the black powder rifle, buckskin britches and tipi or wall tent. During rendezvous, even their identities change, and they answer to buckskin names. In camp, Skarboe is "Wild Man."

"When I was 15 years old, my best friend hung 'Wild Man' on me - why, I don't know - and it stuck for 40 years. Now I own a bar with Wild Man's name on it," Skarboe said. The reasoning behind other names is much clearer: "Skunk" picked up his buckskin name from the skunk-skin cap he wears, "Foxy" got his in a similar manner, and LeRoy Eichthaler's "Horny" nickname came about because of the distinctive headgear he wore for a while - a hat made out of a buffalo skull, with one horn that held powder for priming a cannon. Both the hat and the name have since been retired.

Horny hung "Lightfoot" on a fellow Raider who lost some toes in a grain auger, and Lightfoot liked his new handle so much he made it into a logo and stamped it on all his buckskinning gear. "Coony" earned his buckskin name when he cooked a raccoon for a Raiders dinner.

"Buckskin names are earned according to what you do, how you do it, or if you get caught doing it," said LeRoy Eichthaler.

The nicknames aren't just for guys, either - at least one mountain gal in the Raiders camp also has a buckskin name, but "Duh" wouldn't say how she earned hers.

Buckskin names are free, and the rest of muzzleloading doesn't have to be expensive, according to LeRoy Eichthaler. Beginners can start with just a rifle for about $250, learning to load, shoot and take care of it. They can then build on that if they wish.

Bill Peterson of Kimball and Carl "Foxy" Shaw of Bridgeport trade yarns.

"If they want to buy a lodge, if they want to get into buckskins, that's fine - we love it if they do. But if they don't, that's just fine, too. Just because they're in a pair of blue jeans doesn't mean we don't want them here," he said.

The Raiders will rendezvous as usual in 2006, holding their 61st over Memorial Day weekend and their 62nd Labor Day weekend, and the welcome mat will again be out. Buckskinners from other clubs will be there as usual, but they're also hoping for visitors - history buffs, the just plain curious, even the slightly interested. If someone wants to try shooting a muzzleloader, throwing a tomahawk, starting a fire with flint and steel or most any other activity, they can watch it being done, talk to those doing it and find someone willing to let them try it.

Raiders events may be too distant or otherwise inconvenient for some, but there are other options for those wanting a whiff of black powder smoke. Like the Raiders, the other 23 clubs of the United Nebraska Muzzleloading Rifle Association welcome visitors to their events. One good opportunity is the Red White and Blue Shoot, held May 26-29 and sponsored by the Nebraska Muzzleloading Rifle Association, a club in the Grand Island area. To get there, travel three miles north of Cairo on Highway 11, turn left and go west for five miles.

Pioneer Longrifles events, held one weekend each month at Indian Cave State Park in southeastern Nebraska, are another good bet. For a listing of Nebraska muzzleloading clubs, their contact information and event schedules, visit the UNMLA web site at http://www.nebraskamuzzleloaders.com/.