After all, it was 96 degrees on the Boy Scout Jamboree's Confidence Course on Tuesday afternoon, with humidity hovering around a million percent in the pine forests of Fort A.P. Hill in Caroline County.

In that setting, simply breathing was a considerable challenge for an overweight, out-of-shape, 40-something columnist with delusions of youth.

On the course, where legions of young Scouts climb, shimmy and slither through 18 obstacles for fun and a feeling of accomplishment, the challenges come quickly.

Which is why I soon enough found myself back up in the air, scared witless trying to maintain an awkward balance walking from one end of a pole to the other.

This time out, it's more than 10 feet from my bulging, panic-stricken eyeballs to the hard forest floor below atop this pole that looks skinnier and skinnier.

The height alone is enough to turn the beads of sweat on my forehead into a torrent.

But, as always, there's more: the pole is free to roll from side to side on its rough-hewn base.

Wobbling and going slowly, I decided to add some speed to my technique, thinking that momentum might help stop the pole from rolling.

Three quick but awkward steps later, I found myself frantically grabbing the outstretched hands of my Boy Scout spotters, trying to prevent a straddled fall to the pole that could leave me singing soprano.

"I've got to cheat," I muttered to one of the spotters, 13-year-old Delvin Belnap from Pocatello, Idaho. "I'm going to hold your hand the rest of the way across this nightmare."

Smiling as he kept me steady, the young Scout--as oblivious to the stifling heat as his cohorts--sweetly offered me words of consolation.

"It's not really cheating," he said, holding my hand tightly until I touched terra firma. "It's a way to get across."

Somehow, I managed to find ways to do that on all of the 18 obstacles in the course.