The hypercompetitiveness of the Pinewood Derby chased me off. Who needs that **** at age 8.
I finished dead last in the Pinewood Derby--by far, other cars were crossing the finish line as mine was only halfway down the ramp--as I had no aptitude for woodworking or crafting of any kind (and my dad tried to help, bless him). I was in tears the whole way home and never did that again.
My other boy scout ordeal was literally the "Ordeal" (Order Of The Arrow initiation). Anyone who has done it knows you spend the night outdoors under the stars, do a day of labor with minimal provisions, then at the end you're supposed to celebrate with a huge banquet. Oh, and you're not allowed to speak a whole word during the whole multi-day affair, until the banquet, or else you'll fail the ordeal.
So I'm out in the South Texas summer heat, wrapping up a day of cutting cedar trees, when I finally finished up and regrouped with my dad. He had to go meet with the other scoutmasters for some business before he could go to the banquet, so he left me with another troop with people I didn't really know to head to the banquet several miles away on the other side of the scout reservation. Unfortunately, for reasons to this day unknown, this other troop ditched me, and I trudged along in silence while being passed by every pickup truck full of scouts driving to the banquet. I wanted to ask each one for help or a ride but all I could do was look plaintively to no avail, until after awhile no more trucks were to be seen at all.
I had no idea where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to do, just being a not-too-bright teen who thought I couldn't break silence yet and that maybe this all was still part of the ordeal. Finally after over an hour of walking in 90-100 degree temps all by myself, I happened upon a trailer in the middle of the reservation and thought to myself, "F this" and started banging desperately on the door. A man emerged in the doorway, and I explained to him what was going on, that I was so sorry and I wasn't supposed to be talking yet to the best of my knowledge, but I was lost, hot and tired; and had no idea where I was going and could he please help me? That man, God bless him as he probably saved my life, drove me over to the banquet site where my dad and the other scouts were, the rest of them carrying on happily and cluelessly. My dad, to his credit, had some words for the other leaders, but it was really too late as the damage was done. I quit scouting more or less immediately after that. And to this day I hate camping and the outdoors.