[From the Philmanac - Comanche Pass was used as a trail camp in 1969 and 1970, but is no longer used for camping.  It is located at the intersection of the trail that leads from Lamberts Mine to Black Mountain Camp and the trail that leads from Big Red to Bear and Black Mountains.  The trail from Lamberts actually starts off the Middle Fork trail that leads to Cyphers Mine; this trail was redone in the late 1980's and is very nice.]

[From the Philmanac - The Bear/Black Saddle Camp was used as a trail camp from 1969 through 1974, and is located between Bear and Black Mountains at approximately 9,800 feet elevation.  It was a dry camp and was rarely used because of its rugged and remote location.  In recent years, the only sign atop Black Mountain was one stating "Mount Everest."  Bear (10,663 feet) and Black (10,892 feet) mountains are rarely climbed by Philmont expeditions, but they are every bit as challenging as Baldy or Mt. Phillips.]

[From the Philmanac - North Fork Urraca Camp is a pretty little trail camp located along the north fork of the Urraca Creek.  It was referred to as Urraca Trail Camp until 1970.  There are many interesting side hikes in this area.  At one time there was a trail leading from the camp all the way to the Philmont Reservoir.  This trail is no longer in existence, and anyone trying this route today is in for a great challenge.  Another side hike goes to Grizzly Tooth (9,005 feet.)  The easiest route goes up to Shaefers Pass, then west towards Black Mountain for 15 minutes, then down and left to the formation.  Grizzly Tooth is rarely visited, but is not that difficult to reach (even though there is no formal trail.)  Another side hike climbs the unmarked Dunn Peak (8,891 feet), between the camp and Miner's Park.  This peak is named for Clarence Dunn, the founder of the Philmont Ranger Program, and the Chief Ranger from 1957 through 1970.  An additional challenge is the hike from Dunn Peak down the ridge to the Lover's Leap Turnaround.  This is known as Ranger Ridge, and is a far better alternative to hiking the aforementioned trail to the Philmont Reservoir.]

Up at 5:45 am; 55 degrees, but it seemed much warmer than last night.  Partly cloudy skies, but clearing rapidly, with a moderate breeze.  Was annoyed to have part of the tent wet underneath; Hank and I had neglected to make sure that the groundcloth wasn't sticking out, and we paid the price with the overnight showers.  Woke the Crew at 6:00.  Easy packup today, since everyone else was in the shelter.  Circled up at 6:30, with 4 deer skirting around the camp (doubtless looking for more urine/salt.)  Hit the road at 6:40, with a farewell to some of the Indiana guys (who were taking their bear-bags down as we left.)  Retraced our steps to the Comanche Pass trail intersect we had passed yesterday morning, and stopped for breakfast there, at 7:10.  Nice view down the valley as the sun rose.  Added more of our extra food to this breakfast too, since we had a tough haul coming up.   Gone at 7:30, up and up and up!  Beautifully graded trail, 6 - 8 % the whole way, with marvelous view behind us.  Sadly, this trail is obviously rarely used - there was grass growing in the main tread.  What a shame, cause the conservation department did a super job on it.  Of note, we managed to flush another huge grouse; this one had been hiding literally alongside the trail - 2 feet from the Scouts as they passed by - and only flew up to a branch about 20 feet away when Hank nearly stepped on it.  Likely, there are some chicks also hidden nearby, or it would have flown further away.  Made it up to the pass without a break, and stopped to grab some water and study the trail signs.  Not surprisingly, the trail to Bear Mountain didn't look like it got a lot of use!  3 Minutes and we were on our way - getting an almost immediate reminder of what bad trail is like - steep and rocky, and almost no views.  Quite a contrast versus the Comanche Pass trail.  Pushed continuously up to the sub-summit (the trail went a little west of the actual summit), where a badly chewed up sign laying on a pile of rocks confirmed that we had indeed made it to Bear Mountain.  Interestingly, there was lots of pieces of extremely bright quartz laying on and around the trail at the sub-summit; I grabbed one small rock - to keep my 9th Baldy rock company.  We headed down into the saddle between Bear and Black, with some nice views to the distant west, then "enjoyed" a sudden flashback to our Baldy climb - a very steep uphill requiring 5 step caterpillaring the whole way, everyone gasping for breath.  Well, they don't call it "Black Death" for nothing!  Made the first (lower) summit, and took a water break while grabbing some excellent photos of the guys, with the Cimarroncito Valley a perfect backdrop.  5 Minutes and we were off again - still more steep uphill to the second (true) summit, with the last 10 minutes being a real gut-check.  Finally started to level off, and we passed the ridgeline trail to Shaefers Pass.  One last push to the actual peak, and a lonely sign marked "Everest."  Packs off for everyone - and for once, I really needed a packs-off break.  Chris quickly found a benchmark - but quite oddly, it didn't list the altitude.  The map said 10,892 feet, however, so I guess a little geezing was understandable!  Great vistas to every compass point, under nearly clear skies, beautiful.  After 20 minutes (11:00), we called it a view, and saddled up to head down to Black Mountain Camp.  We started off on what appeared to be the continuation of the trail we came up on from Bear Mountain, but immediately stopped when it literally dropped off the side of the mountain.  We checked the map - which seemed to indicate that yes, this was the trail, on the right heading.  Chris indicated there were no other obvious trails on the other side of the "Everest" sign, so OK!  [Well, not OK!]  At 11:15, we headed down this incredibly steep trail for about a quarter mile, at which point it seemed to disappear into a thick pile of jackstraws.  But there was just enough hints of a trail to lure us on, and we eventually ended up a third of the way down the mountain before it was clear that we were flat-out bushwhacking.  Pulling the map once again (we could see the Tooth), it was clear we were too far to the southeast, and needed to push over a spur ridge to our right in order to re-intersect the actual trail.  Right turn, Clyde.  Steven did the trail-breaking, first with his arms, then with a handy club.  Tough work literally every step, and we were soon all sporting welts and scrapes from tripping and sliding our way along.  I stopped everyone every 30 minutes for some enforced water intake, and a break from the strain of constant mental concentration.  At 1:00, however, we heard our first rumble of thunder, and Hank suggested we start heading down into the draw.  Another map break implied that all the work of the last 2 hours had merely pushed us further to the southeast.  Since we could see that the opposite slope (the south side of the Tooth Ridge) was almost completely clear, we decided to strike across and see if the going would be any easier there.  One way or another, so much for Black Mountain Camp and Porcupine - we were now heading exactly in the wrong direction.  But although I didn't voice my fears to the Crew, the 2 or 3 distant booms of thunder sealed my decision - this mess of jackstraws was the absolute last place to be if a lightning strike started a forest fire below us.  Even without that (highly remote) possibility, heavy rain would make the bushwhacking considerably more dangerous.  So down into the draw we went, and were quickly into even more thick brush and jackstraws, very slow going.  I asked Steven if he needed a break, but no, he was enjoying himself too much.  Seriously.  In fact, the whole Crew seemed to be having a reasonably good time - an unexpected and unique "program" activity!  Finally made the draw - an almost impassable mess - crossing over a thin rivulet of blackish water that no-one wanted to risk collecting, even though we were running low on water by this point.  Amazingly, we were in the clear 50 feet up the opposite slope - what a difference between the eastern slope of Black Mountain and the southern slope of the Tooth of Time ridgeline, very odd in that they're both part of the same mountain.  We pushed up about 150 yards and finally stopped for lunch and recovery.  Everyone was pretty beat by this point, with lots of scratches and bruises on our legs.  Per my suggestion, Hank pulled the tarp out in case a sudden thunderstorm gave us a chance to collect some (reasonably) clean water.  No such luck, of course - there's never a thunderstorm around when you really want one!  Pulling the map one more time, it became clear that pushing south to the North Fork Urraca trail was a bad idea; it was still a long haul through thick woods to get there.  In contrast, the ridgeline was reasonably clear and (although steep) looked easily climbable.  A water inventory indicated we were badly short, but we had enough to make it to Shaefers or if need be North Fork Urraca Camp, so long as we rationed it out properly between the haves and have-nots.  No way I was going to drink the dark swill back in the draw, which looked like a living advertisement for Giardia medication.  Everyone indicated they were good to go, so I led off doing "self-generated switchbacks" up the ridge.  Quite surprisingly, we soon intercepted what appeared to be a very old, long overgrown trail heading at a perfect angle up the side of the ridge.  It was almost too faint to read, but Brad and I both agreed it was there, and we were happy to follow it.  This took us nearly 2/3rd's the way up the ridgeline before we lost it in a draw and maze of patchy scrub oak.  I will have to check my maps from the early 70's when I get home to see if there really had been a trail here, or what.  [Aside:  My 70's maps indicate no trails, but the southeastern border of the "Black Mountain Natural Area" marked on those maps is just about where our pseudo-trail was located, so maybe it was an ancient fenceline, eradicated decades ago.]  Took a water break, then headed up the final slope in three 100-step increments, intercepting the ridgeline trail on the 45th step on the fourth increment, at 2:15.  So 3 hours "lost" taking the false trail off Black Mountain, and bushwhacking maybe a mile and a half.  I wonder how many other Crews had done the same, or worse? - plenty, judging from how well worn that false trail was for the first couple of hundred feet.  Well, no-one hurt, and an excellent learning experience for the guys.  Another swallow of water each, and we headed off to Shaefers Pass.  Nice views to both sides of the ridgeline, and some very pretty meadows in the 2 saddles just before we reached the actual pass.  Walked right into the (nearly dead) spring as we reached the camp - several Scouts from a 628 Trek 30 Crew (who were at Shaefers Pass for their final night) were there, collecting water oh-so-slowly from the pipe.  Shades of Deer Lake Mesa Camp's spring, only slower.  The 628 Crew guys recognized us; we had met them at Ewell's Park the afternoon we arrived there (they had been returning from Baldy as Chris, Brad and I had been checking out the signs on the north side of the camp.)  Although we didn't say anything, they quickly recognized our plight, and gave us 2 full liters of their painstakingly collected supply.  (At this point, we were down to about one last swallow apiece.)  That was extraordinarily generous, and we were very grateful.  I insisted that Andy and David drink a full pint each, since they were clearly hurting the worst.  I headed up the trail to see if the second "secret" spring was flowing better, but it was completely dry.  Once I got back, we saddled up and headed south to the North Fork Urraca Camp, traversing at least a dozen switchbacks on the way down.  Took 45 minutes, but it was downhill all the way, so easy enough.  North Fork Urraca turned out to be a very small camp - but the creek was 6 feet wide and flowing well, perhaps the best sight we had seen in about 8 hours.  There were 3 Crews in camp, but one was leaving for Shaefers Pass in a few minutes.  The other 2 - brother Crews from Kansas - kindly invited us to stay the night, but I held off on accepting `til I got formal permission from the Staff at Miner's Park (plus the camp looked too small to handle all 3 Crews, and we were basically "squatters.")  Just about then 3 Rangers came in from Miner's Park at double-time, looking for 2 "lost" Scouts missing from one of the Crews up at Shaefers Pass.  After they satisfied themselves that the 2 Scouts weren't here, I took one of them (Vaughn) aside and explained our situation, asking what they wanted us to do after we got watered up and ate some dinner.  Vaughn called Chris (a Senior Ranger) over, and he said there were no other Crews due in here tonight, so go ahead and park it.  I love a man who can make a command decision!  With that, they headed up to Shaefers Pass.  Deferring to the Kansas Crews, I told them they had first dibs and asked where they wanted us, since there was so little space.  Fortunately, there were 2 more sites a little further up the creek that I hadn't known about, and the larger Crew elected to camp there.  The other Crew took a large site across the creek, so we had the small site right at the intersection of the Shaefers Pass and Black Mountain Camp trails.  We packed it in wall-to-wall (just in case another Crew did show up), and started in on dinner.  Chicken Rice tonight.  Alarmingly, our Polar Pure appeared to have expired; either we had used up all the iodine (unlikely), or someone had mistakenly poured or washed it out at Cyphers Mine or earlier.  After trying to regenerate it by boiling (no luck there), we broke into our emergency supply of AquaPure tablets, and used them for the meal (for the rest of the trek, in fact.)  Nice to be ridiculously overprepared, at least in some things!  Just as we said Philmont Grace, our 3 Rangers returned, with a 4th tagging along - our 2 "lost" Scouts had miraculously hiked into Shaefers on their own, and found their Crew.  The 4th Ranger had come up from Clark's Fork. [Aside:  The best way for Philmont to handle this perpetual foolishness is to immediately terminate the treks of Crews who become separated.  Harsh language ain't workin'!]  After dinner, I headed over to chat with the Kansas Advisors (from both Crews), who were all having an impromptu Advisor's Coffee by the bridge.  I was hoping they knew what the programs were at Miner's Park - but they had no idea.  It used to be Rock Climbing and Environmental Awareness, if memory serves me correctly.  Chris and Brad joined us, and we talked about our treks, and the Mt. Phillips bear attack.  They both turned out to also be 628 Crews, and were heading for the Tooth tomorrow, then Basecamp.  At 8:30, we called it a night, and everyone headed back to their respective camps.  Crew 3 got quiet quick tonight! - it having turned out to be a far tougher day than even we had anticipated.  At 10:00 on the nose, however, I was awakened by yet another Crew, coming down the Black Mountain Camp trail and right past our tents.  Most were wearing headlamps of some sort.  After about 10 minutes of looking around the site (just about the time I started to get up to help), they finally figured out that the space next to us was all that was left, and they went ahead and set up.  Lucky we hadn't spread out after all!  I fell asleep again while they were still setting up.  An otherwise unremarkable night - after a very remarkable day!