When I was 15 years old, I graduated from Scouts. Hold the applause.

While most associate the legacy of B.P (that's Robert Baden Powell people) with dorky scarves and quasi-miltary organisation, it was actually pretty damn cool. We did cliff forward run-downs, midnight abseiling, multiple day canoe camping trips, lashed together barrels and posts into rafts we sailed down the Swan river, hiked a fair portion Bibbulmun track and spent so much time in tents that we couldn't sleep at home unless we tucked a rock into our bed to achieve the same level of discomfort. Oh and we wore dorky scarves and adhered to a quasi-military organisational structure.

On my final night, I was awarded a genuine Swiss army knife with my name and the year engraved on the largest blade. In the years since, that knife has proved it's worth time and time again.