In a Camporee arena, it's always the tower that steals the photo. Four meters of bamboo and sisal raised with nothing but lashings — not a single nail — standing while hundreds of people walk beneath it. It's beautiful, it's inspiring, and it is, by far, the pioneering project most likely to go wrong if someone treats it as a game.
This guide is about that tower: the observation tower that appears as a requirement of the Pioneering Advanced honor and becomes an attraction at the big gatherings. It's not the general list of pioneering projects, nor the bare list of knots and lashings. It's the vertical structure from start to finish: how tall it is, which lashings hold it, what bracing is, and — the part nobody can skip — how to climb without getting hurt.
Let's honestly separate what is written standard from the South American Division (DSA), what is a decision of your club and your counselor, and what is good safety practice. Data verified on 07/22/2026 in the official sources listed at the end.
What is the pioneering tower and where does it appear?
We call a pioneering tower (or observation tower) a vertical structure made only from poles — bamboo, eucalyptus, or round timber — lashed with sisal, with no metal part at all. Pioneering, here, is the name Pathfinders give to rustic camp structures built with knots and lashings; the tower is the tallest and most demanding of them all.
It appears officially in one specific place: as one of the construction items of the Pioneering Advanced honor. Among the structures required in that honor is "a tower at least 4 meters tall with 10 lashings." It's not just any improvised tower — it's a structure with a minimum measurement, a minimum number of lashings, and a plan on paper before you begin.
Beyond the requirement, the tower is the star of Camporees and regional campouts. It serves as a unit gateway, a lookout, a landmark in the arena. And that's where the care comes in: it's one thing to build the tower calmly, in the church yard, to complete the honor; it's another to raise it in a rush the night before an event, with tired people and borrowed material. The technique is the same; the risk is not.
A calendar note: Camporees have a theme and date that change every year and from field to field. If you're building the tower for a specific event, confirm with your Conference or Mission the rules for that arena — maximum allowed height, whether people may be on top, distance between towers. This varies from event to event and is not a fixed part of the honor's standard.
How big is the tower and what does the standard require?
Before thinking about lashings, you need to know what is being asked. The tower is not a stand-alone item: it lives inside the Pioneering Advanced honor, which has its own prerequisites.
To begin Pioneering Advanced, the candidate must be at least 14 years old and have already completed two honors first: Pioneering (the basic one) and Knots and Lashings Advanced. In other words, nobody reaches the 4-meter tower without first mastering the lashings and the smaller structures. That's intentional: the tower is the final exam of everything that came before.
| Item | What Pioneering Advanced requires |
|---|---|
| Minimum age | 14 years |
| Previous honors | Pioneering and Knots and Lashings Advanced |
| Tower height | At least 4 meters |
| Lashings on the tower | At least 10 |
| Nails, screws, and wire | Must not be used |
| Before building | A plan (a drawing with measurements) of each structure |
Notice two requirements many people ignore. First: "nails, screws, and wire must not be used." The honor directs clubs to avoid that shortcut precisely to teach the real technique — a tower that only stands because it was nailed proves nothing about lashing. Second: you must draw the plan with measurements before raising it. Knowing how many poles, of what length, and how much sisal each joint takes is not bureaucracy; it's what keeps you from discovering, with the tower half built, that material ran out or the base ended up too narrow.
It helps to place the tower in the whole set. The same honor also calls for other structures with their own numbers — a gateway with at least 8 bases and 20 lashings, a camp table with at least 4 bases and 8 lashings, a bridge with at least 4 bases and a 3-meter span. The tower is the only one that actually goes up, and that's why it demands the coolest head.
Which lashings hold the tower up?
A tower doesn't fall for lack of poles. It falls from the wrong lashing in the wrong place. Each joint calls for a specific type, and swapping one for another is the mistake that brings the structure down under weight.
The lashings the Pioneering honor requires are five: square, diagonal, parallel (or round), continuous parallel, and continuous diagonal. On the tower, three of them do almost all the work. Understand the role of each:
| Where, on the tower | Recommended lashing | What it's for |
|---|---|---|
| Two poles crossed at a right angle (upright x crossbar) | Square lashing | Holds pieces that cross at 90° without letting them slip |
| The diagonals that lock the structure | Diagonal lashing | Holds two poles that tend to spring apart — that's the bracing |
| Joining two poles to gain length | Parallel (round) lashing | Unites two pieces side by side, making them act as one, longer and stiffer |
A technical detail that makes a difference in firmness: most lashings begin and end with a clove hitch — a simple knot that grips the sisal to the pole before you start wrapping. It doesn't slide sideways and tightens even more when the structure takes load. If the start of the lashing is loose, the whole wrap stays loose. This is lashing technique, not a written rule of the honor — but it's what separates a firm tower from a tower that sways.
Another practical care: before lashing at a right angle, many instructors teach cutting a small notch (a seat) in the wood, so the pole doesn't turn. And the sisal needs to be tightened on every turn, not wound slack. A good lashing isn't the one with many loose turns; it's the one with firm, well-tensioned turns. A well-made tower lashing barely lets the pole move when you push on it by hand.
Read alsoHow to build a camp gatewayWhat is bracing and why does the tower fall without it?
If you keep only one idea from this article, keep this one: a tower made only of rectangles collapses; a tower made of triangles stands.
Picture four poles lashed into a square. Push a corner and the square "lies down" — it becomes a rhombus — because nothing stops the corners from changing angle. Engineers call that movement racking, the force that twists the structure. Now lash a pole diagonally, joining two opposite corners: the square becomes two triangles and locks. A triangle can't deform without breaking a pole. That diagonal pole is the bracing — the reinforcement that keeps the structure from opening.
That's why the diagonal lashing exists as a category separate from the square. The square holds; the diagonal locks. On a 4-meter tower, you'll want diagonals on every face and, ideally, on the internal plane — each face of the tower needs its triangles. A tower without bracing can look firm when still and empty, and then twist at the first wind or the first weight. That's the most common and most dangerous failure mode.
Translated into building: don't think of the tower as four vertical legs. Think of it as a sequence of stacked triangles. The higher the point, the more the bracing matters, because a small slack down low becomes a big sway up high — the same principle as a ruler you hold by one end and shake.
How do you build it with height safety?
This is where this guide needs to be more honest than most. The official text of the Pioneering honor requires the Pathfinder to "demonstrate knowledge of the safety rules for handling tools" — machete, handsaw, hatchet. But it does not publish a working-at-height protocol: there is no list in the honor's written standard saying "wear a helmet," "clip in the harness," "test the load." This means the safety of the climb is the club leadership's responsibility — your counselor's and the directorate's — and not an item you can check off or ignore on a card.
So what is settled good practice among experienced instructors? The list below is not DSA standard; it's the care that separates a calm build from an accident. Treat it as mandatory even without an official stamp:
- Never build or climb without the supervision of a responsible adult. A tower is not an activity for a unit alone, with no counselor nearby.
- Raise the tower lying down. Lash everything on the ground — including the bracing — and raise the already-finished structure, with the team spread out and someone coordinating. Nobody climbs to "finish lashing up there."
- Test the load before anyone climbs. With the tower standing and the team holding the base, apply weight gradually to the first level and watch whether any lashing gives, any pole turns, or the structure twists. Only then does someone climb — and one at a time.
- Closed-toe footwear, always. Flip-flops in pioneering are an invitation to an accident, on the ground and up high.
- Anchor the base. A tall tower gains stability with stakes in the ground or guy lines (ropes stretched to anchor points), especially if there's wind or if someone is going to climb.
- Check the material beforehand. Cracked bamboo, rotten poles, or worn-out sisal do not go on a tower. The time to discard is on the ground, not 3 meters up.
About the wood: bamboo and sisal are the most-used materials precisely because they're natural and easy to handle, but the pole needs to be straight, dry, and free of cracks. Bamboo that's too green bends; bamboo that's too old cracks when you tighten. And remember that the honor forbids nails, screws, and wire — the firmness has to come from a well-made lashing and from the bracing, not from a hidden metal reinforcement.
A common-sense rule worth gold: the tower is for observing, not for crowding. Set how many people can be on top at once — and, at Camporees, respect the limit set by the event organization, which is often more restrictive than your club's.
Who decides what when it's time to build?
Much of the confusion in pioneering comes from mixing three things: what the standard writes, what the club decides, and what is a safety principle. Separate them and almost every doubt resolves.
| Topic | Layer | Who decides |
|---|---|---|
| Minimum height (4 m) and number of lashings (10) of the tower | Written standard | Honor requirements (DSA) — not negotiable |
| Ban on nails, screws, and wire | Written standard | Honor requirements (DSA) |
| Plan with measurements before building | Written standard | Honor requirements (DSA) |
| How to build with height safety (load test, PPE, climbing) | Practice / responsibility | Counselor and club directorate |
| When and where to build, how much material to buy | Practice | Club directorate, on its calendar |
| Height limit and number of people on the tower at a Camporee | Event rule | Organizing Conference/Mission — varies each event |
| Why the class insists on lashing and not on nailing | Educational principle | The program: teach technique, not a shortcut |
The practical reading fits in one sentence: measurements and forbidden materials are standard; the safety of the climb is your counselor's responsibility; the arena rule belongs to the event. If someone says "the standard requires a helmet" or "the standard forbids climbing," calmly ask for the source — it's probably a club good practice or a rule of that Camporee, not text from the honor. Both deserve respect, but it's good to know which is which.
And a word from someone who has seen a tower twist: when in doubt about safety, the counselor decides on the more cautious side, period. One extra lashing, one extra guy line, one fewer person on top — none of that fails anyone in the honor, and all of it has already prevented accidents.
Why did the tower become the mark of Camporees?
It could have been just a card requirement. It became much more, and for good reasons.
The tower concentrates, in a single structure, everything pioneering teaches: planning (the plan), teamwork (nobody raises 4 meters alone), technical mastery (the right lashings in the right places), applied physics (the bracing), and safety discipline (the controlled climb). That's why it becomes the unit's calling card in the arena — whoever builds a firm tower shows, without saying a word, that the team knows what it's doing.
There's also a value the pretty photo hides: the tower is a lesson in responsibility. It's the activity where haste costs dearly and care pays off on the spot. A Pathfinder who learns to test the load before climbing, to discard the cracked pole, and to wait for the counselor's go-ahead is learning something worth far beyond the campout.
Finally, keep the spirit of the thing. The tower exists to observe the horizon — literally. Build it to last the event, take it down with the same care you raised it, and return the ground the way you found it. The best tower isn't the tallest; it's the one that stood firm, served everyone, and came down without anyone getting hurt.