Up at 5:00 am, with two alarms set just to make sure.  Even with 3 ½ hours sleep - the most I’ve had at the beginning of a Philmont trip in a long time - I still felt like I needed more.  A wake-up shower helped.  Checked my email once last time, all the usual spam except a “best wishes” note from Ron Pelley (a former Chain Bridge Scouter and personal friend, now down in Sam Houston Area Council); he’s going to be at the Philmont Training Center while I’m on the trail, so we might be able to link up on Sunday the 28th if things work out.  Out the door at 5:35 am, already brightening up, thin to moderate overcast, 68 degrees, still humid.  I’m driving the white van, fully loaded with our backpacks and gear from last night’s packup session, ready to go.  Stopped briefly at the Post Office to drop off my summer camp receipts letter to Matt Bangs.  After pondering it for about a minute, I went ahead and got a coke and some oatmeal-raisin breakfast cookies at the Westover 7/11.  Arrived at St. Agnes at 5:50 am.  The Dooleys arrived five minutes later, then the rest of the hoard.  Not that I was concerned, but I went ahead and did final uniform checks as everyone arrived; since this was an all-111 Crew, of course no problems.  Hugh and Thomas were last at 6:17 (both had their boots on, so one more assembly chore checked off).  After quickly going through the final checklist (thankfully no problems), we got some repetitive group photos from five or six parents, then loaded up.  Off at 6:25 am to National, with Ted Gerarden driving the white van and Hovey Kemp driving the maroon van.  Easy drive.  Quite surprisingly, the curbside at National was nearly empty, with minimal security presence.  I had expected a zoo, and minimal patience with our unloading; well, quite happy to be wrong on that score!  After confirming with the Northwest SkyCaps that (as expected) there was no curbside check-in, I went inside to scope out the Group Counter while everyone else unloaded.  Met "Brenda” at desk, explained our situation, and got some basic check-in instructions from her - basically, haul it all in and stack right in front of the Group Counter, alongside one of the new, massive baggage X-ray machines.  Yes ma’am.  Headed back outside and got everyone heading in the right direction, and said Sayonara and Thanks! to Ted and Hovey.  We managed to get everything off the curb and inside in one mega-heave, stacking it as requested.  [Photos: 1, 2, 3]  Brenda was pleasant and efficient, continuing the long tradition of courteous check-ins we have experienced over the years with Northwest Airlines.  As it turned out, everyone was allowed two pieces of checked luggage, but most had only one (their backpacks).  I ended up giving my small duffel to Luke as his second item, since I had our gear Totelocker on my ticket, in addition to my backpack.  I think Charlie took all our walking sticks (all strapped together) as his second item.  Everything was X-rayed, even though it was checked luggage.  Todd (different itinerary for his return) and Charlie (late purchase) were the last ones because they were not on the group ticket in the computer.  Somewhat surprisingly, only Hugh and I had to show photo ID’s at the Counter.  After a group “Thank You” to Brenda, it was off to Security.  A few oddities this time - everyone had to show their own ticket, no “en masse” pass-through allowed this year.  Plus they were much more meticulous on the “wanding” of each passenger.  I was last through, and (once again) got the full search treatment.  Had to take everything off my uniform except the two service stars and Silver Beaver pin (all tiny), and my Philmont belt buckle got a close-up inspection (and was passed through the X-ray for good measure).  They even checked my shoes (guess my new orthodics have some metal in them).  Finally got a passing grade, and spent a minute getting myself re-assembled.  Said “Good Morning” to an onlooking VA State Trooper as I went past the last check point (which earned me a smile).  We all headed down to Gate 3, and stacked our carry-on gear in a “guardable” pile, then I gave everyone their release to go snacking and wandering til about 8:10 or so.  I watched the gear, exchanged pleasantries with an onlooking couple and several other nearby passengers, prayed a quick Rosary for Connor (one of my young Scouts recovering from a very serious illness), then wrote diary.  Hugh brought me a small coke.  Most everyone returned by 8:00, eating Cinnabuns.  Matt’s eyes were bigger than his actual appetite; he bought two buns and could only eat one, so he tried to sell the second one off.  After some hard-core negotiating, Michael bought it for $1.00 (it cost $2.00, so a good deal). Will was fascinated with the zillions of mosquitos on the terminal windows, all apparently trying to get inside (maybe the condensation on the outside windows attracted them?)  They started the boarding process at 8:10, a little earlier than I had expected; we boarded at 8:20.  Hugh took Charlie’s seat (which was way up front), and I took Todd’s seat (also isolated), so the guys could all sit together.  I went back to snap a few photos and chat while we had the chance.  Turned out they had bought several tabloid rags for fun, and we laughed at all the idiotic headlines.  Three-Headed Alien Scoutmaster Gives Birth to Entire Philmont Crew!  I was requested to take my seat at 8:35, and we pushed off at 8:37.  After a rather lengthy taxi, we got the “30 minute mandatory seating” warning (FAA regs for all flights in and out of National), then took off at 8:52 to the south (part of a string of about eight planes in a row).  Northwest Flight #629 to Minneapolis-St. Paul, continuing on to Albuquerque afterwards (2 hour, 4 minute estimated flight time to M-SP).  A bit bumpy as we climbed through the cloud deck, then into the sunshine at 8:57.  The seat belt mandate was released on time, around 9:20.  I chatted with two young ladies in the seat in front of me; the younger one’s brother, a Scout in Gaithersburg, was “reluctantly” going for Eagle (their Dad is an Eagle).  His Troop did Mount Rainier last year, and were going to the Adirondacks this year (obviously a pretty impressive outdoor program, so a little hard for me to understand the reluctance!)  Their Dad had also been a camp counselor in Wisconsin for eight years, and was there now on a camp staff reunion.  Very pleasant folks.  By 9:30, we were at altitude, and enjoying a very smooth ride.  Walked back and chatted with the guys for a little while (Mark, Matt, and Thomas were all out like lights), then the beverage carts chased me back to my seat for what passed for “breakfast” (I got tomato juice and a granola bar; an “interesting” combination).  Read a Washington Post story about a famous shark fisherman who got himself wrapped up in his own line and was taken overboard by a giant mako (and drowned); was a front-pager, interesting.  Risky business, and he who lives by the sword.....  After the beverage carts were out of the way, I went back to talk to the guys again; some were playing cards, others talking - for some odd reason, they wanted to discuss what I would do if I could take over the BSA, and my Phil-East (second Philmont) idea also (both way too long to detail here!).  Of course, it’s all just a pleasant pipedream unless I win a hundred million dollar Lotto jackpot someday - then watch out!  One thing Irving (National BSA HQ’s) would surely fear is one of the more incurable inmates taking over the asylum.  We began our descent at 10:35, so back to my seat again.  Semi-bumpy for a while, then a smooth drop in - but then just as we were coming over the runway, the pilots punched it and executed a very hard fly off under screaming full power.  Quite disturbing to the all the veteran fliers, who all looked at each other with expressionless faces (that spoke volumes).  After a steep climb and turn, the Captain came on and indicated we were waiting on “another plane to clear the runway”.  [Not to be overly dramatic about it, but I suspect we may have narrowly avoided a catastrophe, there.]  After circling around, we came in again for (this time) a completely uneventful landing, about 11:20 our time (10:20 local).  As we deplaned, I stuck my head into the cockpit on the way out and gave the pilots my sincere thanks for their quick thinking and action (they smiled but said nothing in return).  I remember reading somewhere that we pay airline pilots 150K a year for the 45 seconds where they (and only they) can make a difference.  I think our guys just used up about 15 seconds worth.  Once we exited (at G-16), we headed down to G-11 for our connecting flight.  Once we re-piled all the gear together again, I gave Luke $60.00 for the Crew’s lunch ($5.50 each), and gave everyone their release for 45 minutes.  I stuck around to watch the gear pile again, asking Hugh to pick me up a bacon cheeseburger and small coke if possible.  Most of the guys came back within 10 minutes with bagged lunches from McDonald’s, and we quickly spread out on what later turned out to be the Security Desk to eat.  Matt discovered a wheelchair and (despite my cautions) was soon pulling “wheelies”.  Not to be outdone, Drew and William soon followed suit.  Then Matt managed to topple his soda on the floor, and we parked the wheelchair for the remainder of our stay.  The rest of the guys (Luke, Will, Michael, and Todd) returned after eating at a Pizza Hut.  We moved our remaining stuff off the table when the Security guys showed up.  Boarding commenced shortly thereafter.  This time, they did want to check everyones’ ID’s, so we all pulled ours out as we got in line.  Since it would be hard to get together on the plane, Hugh, Luke, Matt, and I hung back at the end of the line and quickly reviewed our upcoming stop at Colorado Springs.  Luke and Matt would have to organize the Crew for baggage retrieval and transfer to the sidewalk, pack stripping, getting changed into riding clothes (our first activity was horseback riding), and most importantly staying hydrated and keeping out of the sun, while Hugh and I went to get the vans.  On the plane, Neil and Todd got seats in Row 8, while the rest of us were in Rows 19-21.  Neil and Todd were OK with that arrangement, so Hugh and I were back with the rest of the Crew.  I’m with Luke and Will in my row [Photos: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5].  We pushed off at 12:35, taxied for 20 minutes, and took off at 12:58.  Switched my watch to Philmont Time.  A fast ascent, with some bouncing and bumping.  Northwest Flight #1293 to Colorado Springs.  We have a lot of teenage girls on this flight, some kind of educational group I think (never did figure out what was going on there), so there was a fair amount of giggling interaction and general silliness going on for most of the flight.  Right alongside us was a young female triplet:  One from France, one from Virginia Beach, one from South Dakota, so this was indeed a diverse group.  Luke and Will were engrossed in magazines and a book of short stories on animals.  I talked to Mark and Matt a lot during the flight, and occasionally put a few words into preventing “Tarzan Meets Jane” from getting overly giddy.  Will narrated some stupid story about a mathematical horse, which he and Luke thought was hilariously funny.  Thankfully, this was a short flight, and our descent began at 12:10 MDST.  Clear and obviously quite dry (and presumably hot) outside.  By 12:20, things got rather bumpy, and we got some pretty good plunges and lurches the last 10 minutes.  Landed at 12:30, taxied to the gate, and deplaned at 12:45.  As we headed towards the exit and baggage claim, I gave Luke and Matt some last (repetitive) pointers and reminded them we wouldn’t be back for about 2 - 2 ½ hours.  Then Hugh and I called the Enterprise shuttle while the rest of the crew headed off to the baggage claim area.  Outside, bright sun, low 90’s.  After about 10 minutes, the shuttle showed up, but we waited another 20 minutes on a last customer (who never showed) before departing.  Off to Enterprise, about a 15 minute drive.  Meagen (the manager?) handled us; our reservation was in order.  2001 white Ford Econoline, 15 passenger van, 9,970 miles, good shape, but dirty outside.  Per our request, they washed it (took an extra 15 minutes, but worth it, as it was pretty grungy).  Then it was off to Budget for the cargo van, me driving.  The MapQuest directions weren’t quite right, so after we wandered around for about 5 minutes, we stopped and asked a security guard in a patrolling SUV where the place was (turned out it was just 3 minutes away, but in the opposite direction from what MapQuest indicated).  Unfortunately, here our reservation was kaput - there were no cargo vans left on the lot.  Lucky Rick Wolff ain’t here - he’d have blown a fuse, especially since he just re-confirmed our reservation just 10 days ago.  So Troop 111's experiences with van rentals in Colorado continues its perpetual string of problems.  After some hemming and hawing, the manager offered us a 10 foot panel truck (the last one they had) as a replacement, at a slightly lower rate.  Well as always, when you ain’t got no choice, the choice is easy - though getting a truck onto Peterson Air Force Base in the current security environment might present us with some problems, so we’re going to need some luck there.  Took almost 30 minutes to get the new paperwork straight.  At 2:30, we headed back to the airport, with Hugh driving the truck.  The guys were in a group outside, waiting, bored, and changed into their riding clothes.  We quickly loaded all the packs and some of the other gear into the truck (plenty of room, anyway), then most of the carry-on and everyone but Hugh in the van.  Called MSgt. Stagray at 2:50, and we drove to the North Gate of Peterson, parking at the Visitor’s Center.  Ominously, there was a “No Trucks” sign at the gate, so that potential hassle loomed larger.  I talked to the sentries at the gate, so they knew who we were and what we were doing “hanging out”, then waited by the side of the road in my uniform as a visual marker for MSgt. Stagray.  Sunny and hot.  Luckily some trees provided a little shade, or I’d have cooked in 10 minutes flat.  Hugh got changed into his riding clothes in the back of the truck.  Once he was done, I asked him to call Academy Riding Stables for some more explicit directions, and I copied them down as Hugh verbally relayed them.  No sign of MSgt. Stagray, and I slowly grew increasingly agitated as time slipped by - we’re burning too much time here, and we still have tons to do yet.  Where is he???  Finally, Hugh and I asked the sentries if there was another gate - and sure enough, there were three gates, and a call confirmed that he had been waiting on us at the West Gate.  Arrrgh!  So back on the road for another 15 minutes to switch venues.  “Pat” Stagray was waiting there, big, very fit looking guy.  We pulled over to the inspection area.  Our panel truck was thankfully not an issue, but they did search it thoroughly before giving us a pass for it.  Took a while to get checked in, because even though the security status had been lowered from Condition Bravo to Condition Alpha, the MP’s still had some questions about whether we required an escort while on the Base.  Eventually they decided to leave the “Escort” boxes on the vehicle passes blank (which would turn out to be a reoccurring headache for us for the next three nights), and we got ready to go.  Another Troop (also scheduled to stay on the Base) showed up behind us just as we got going, but Pat asked them to hold in place while he got us going, since we had two activities and an off-Base dinner still scheduled for this afternoon and evening (and they were apparently at the end of a long drive and done for the day).  Then it was off to the “Snow Barn” (a quite large maintenance shed), all of two minutes from the gate.  After a 10 minute orientation talk (basically key protocol, cots, and bathrooms), Pat left to go handle the other Troop.  After a quick group toiety, we got going about five minutes later, and headed off to Academy Riding Stables, unbelievably enough arriving right on time (4:45) .  Lucky thing I had built as much “slop” into this afternoon’s schedule as I had, or we’d have been an hour late.  Sent the group up while I (at last) got changed out of my uniform.  The lot was full of cars and vans, and a fair number of people were either just arriving or getting ready to leave, so it was pretty busy.  I headed up to find that (surprise!) even though we had a reservation, I had not paid for our ride yet, so Hugh was handling the financial paperwork.  We sat in the “instructional” area , and I encouraged the guys to drink a liter of water as we waited.  Another mixed group of 12 was also there for the 5:00, one hour ride. After about 10 minutes, the crowd (and parking lot) cleared out and the head wrangler came over to give us the basic run down.  He split us into two groups for riding - the first group of 12, then us (we would likewise be a separate group on the trail).  After going through some basic rules and instruction, and telling each rider the name of the horse they would get, they started right in on loading us up.  The various wranglers came from the corral, each leading a horse and calling out the horses’ names.  The first group loaded up fairly quickly, with one little girl (10 or 11 years old) crying and very intimidated, clearly quite unhappy (two of the female wranglers talked with her for awhile, and she soldiered on).  They mounted up the horses in groups of 10 - so Group Number 1 loaded 10 people up first, got them out of the loading area, then loaded up the last 2 people, who joined the end of the line at the corral gate.  For some odd reason, that group left with a guy in a golf cart trailing them (huh?); first time I’d ever seen that (maybe a new safety thing?)  After pounding down the last of our water (and storing the canteens behind the soda machine), it was our turn.  We also did the two step loading, 10 and 3 in our case. [Photos: 1, 2, 3]  I mounted up last so I could take photos and (try to) keep track of the horses’ names:  

Luke - Flash
Drew - Rosebud
Michael - Speck
Todd - Junior
Matt - Ghost
Will - Cricket
William  Chalaco
Hugh - [“A Horse with No Name”]
Thomas - Sox II
Charlie - Rusty
Neil - Diamond
Mark - Trigger
myself - Cinder

Once I was up on Cinder, we headed out and rejoined the rest of our group, around 5:15 or so.  For whatever reason, no golf cart for us.  We had two wrangler escorts:  Ryan in front, George in the rear (right behind me).  Academy uses “gap” spacing for their horse rides - each horse was trained to walk in a line with about a one horse gap in front and behind.  The horses were “Western” reined, so responded to just gentle pressure to turn or hold up.  Once we exited the corral area, we headed up the road to the Garden of the Gods, about a 10 minute walk.  The road winds right through a local neighborhood, but the horses were oblivious to the moving vehicles, dogs, and kids (who were equally oblivious to us, except for one group of small children in the front yard of one of the first houses we passed, who wanted to know the names of all the horses).  At the Garden, we took the Scotsman’s Trail (named after a distinct rock formation along the way).  Still sunny and hot, and the trail was quite dusty in spots.  The Scotsman’s Trail (which I think is exclusively used for horses) winds its way on the western side of the southernmost formations (still well lit at this time of the day).  The Garden of the Gods is a natural grouping of huge red and grey sandstone spires all gathered together on the western edge of Colorado Springs; a really neat place.  Once we were in the Garden proper, we passed the golf cart - the driver was set up to take photos of each rider as they passed, with one of the main formations backlit behind them, so that mystery was solved.  We ran into various people walking on the crossing trails, and I exchanged greetings with each.  I also managed to get some photos [1, 2], but since I wasn’t allowed to take Cinder out of the line, and the wranglers weren’t allowed to take photos for us, it was too difficult to get good angles on people.  But despite that minor complaint, it was all in all a very pleasant ride.  We were back in the corral by 6:15.  After dismounting, we checked out our “official” photos (as usual, nice but WAY too expensive, especially for 13 of them).  I tipped both our wranglers, and after hitting the bathroom, and grabbing some more water, we left at 6:40 for the Cave of the Winds.  After the exciting ride up (some very steep drops alongside the road, and no guardrails), we parked it at 6:55 and made it inside at 7:00 (again, right on time).  The guys enjoyed losing money down the parabolic well while I went to go pay for our tour.  Our Lantern Tour reservation was in order, and we soon linked up with our guides:  “Aces” and “Quigley”, both done up in 1890's period dress.  After some basic instructions and Q&A on our caving knowledge and experiences, we headed in.  The photo people (and the Cave of the Winds sign) weren’t there anymore (since it was after 6:00), so we did it ourselves with “Aces’” assistance.  We did a quick walk through the more commercial areas of the cave, passing through three “regular” tour groups on the way, then entered into the Lantern Tour area through a wooden door.  The Lantern Tour basically reenacts the original style of cave tours, using only oil-candle/bucket lamps for lighting, and hitting the more primitive parts of the cave (mostly dirt floors, some tight passages, few steps or guardrails, etc.)  Although it doesn’t hit all the wonderful formations set up for the regular tour, it is a much “cooler” experience for Scouts - especially those (like us) who had already done several big commercial caves like Luray Caverns.  In fact, “Aces” and “Quigley” were impressed with our overall knowledge of caves and caving, and also with the fact that we had mostly all done plenty of genuine spelunking in Maryland, Virginia, and West Virginia, so they took us to the furthest back areas where even most Lantern Tours didn’t go.  Included in our tour were a discussion of how the cave was discovered, the background of “Aces” and “Quigley” (real life characters from the 1890's), some of the original excavating equipment, the Lincoln, Grant, and Lee “Memorial” Rock Piles, some of the ghost/mystery stories of the cave, and more.  We ended with the usual “total darkness/abandonment” scenario, but (being Scouts) the Crew was well prepared with a variety of indiglo watches and a small LED light - so we found them rather than them having to come back and “rescue” us.  [They just laughed, and said we were the first Scout group they had ever toured with that had beaten them at the game.  Well, maybe not fairly, but it was fun anyway.]  With that, we headed back out - but I held up and took a few last photos of formations in the “commercial” section [Photos: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5], so I was a few minutes behind the rest of the Crew.  Took the time this year to snap the “cave motto”, which consists of lettering cemented into a wall:  “Dreams of Mountains - As in Their Sleep - They Brood on Things Eternal” (a quote from C.A. Higgins’ “The Titan of Chasms”).  Simultaneously profound and crass.  Outside, we tipped “Aces” and “Quigley”, and they took a few extra minutes to show us the original entrance deep down in the gorge.  Good guys, and a nice job.  On our way again at 9:05 (I resisted the pleas to stay to watch the laser light show, only because every restaurant in Colorado Springs closes early).  We headed off to the Golden Corral (on South Powers) for dinner, arriving (after some “you can’t get there from here” back-tracking) at about 9:30.  A nice buffet - but even though they were open til 10:00, they were in fact already gearing up to close, so a lot of the food trays were already empty or near empty.  What was left was pretty good, but we were really too rushed to enjoy ourselves.  But everyone except me did go after the (still) well-stocked ice cream/dessert bar!  At 10:15, we called ourselves stuffed and hit the road - not quite the last customers of the day, but pretty close.  You know, I gotta think that if just one buffet restaurant in Colorado Springs would stay open til midnight, at least during the tourist season, and heavily advertised that fact, they’d be mobbed after 9:30 pm - ‘cause as far as I can tell there’s literally nowhere else to go....  Back on the road for Peterson.  Made sure everyone was seat-belted, and dimmed the lights as we approached the Gate.  But we had an instant hassle with our Vehicle Pass, which did not have the “No Escort” indication that had been a source of contention when we first arrived - and there was no replacement Pass waiting for us, as promised by the MP’s that afternoon, so were stuck in place.  We got Pat on Hugh’s phone, and he managed to work it out with the MP’s for tonight at least, so we were finally allowed in just before 11:00, after about half an hour of sitting (now 1:00 am “our” time, so getting to be a long day).  At the snow barn, I cautioned the guys to keep quiet and went inside to size up the situation while Hugh unlocked the truck.  It was already “lights out” inside, but some of the garage doors were partially open, which allowed in some light and a breeze.  There were three sets of cots set up, with two sets occupied and a third set of 13 conveniently awaiting.  I wandered over to the first group of cots - there was one Senior Scout still awake and he confirmed that yes, these had been set up by them for us.  That was damn nice of them, and saved us a lot of time, noise, and commotion.  I asked when they were planning on getting up - 6:00 am.  I went back outside to relay instructions to the Crew:  Stay quiet, set up your carry on and sleeping bags on the cots, hit the bathroom, drink some more water, and get to sleep.  Also, our reveille was at 5:45, and we had to be both quiet and efficient in getting up and getting going.  Back inside, I talked briefly with one of the Scoutmasters, who had gotten up and wandered over to chat - they were Troop 11 from Edmond, Oklahoma.  A little odd for them to be up here in Colorado Springs - a pretty good distance out of the way to Philmont for them - but I guess we weren’t the only guys that enjoyed the attractions of Colorado.  I thanked him again for his guys setting up the cots for us.  Our guys were reasonably quiet - though we did kick a few loose items around (for some reason, there were several extra metal cot braces on the floor, and we firmly proved that they were quite noisy when kicked).  Once the Scouts were done in the bathroom and settled in, Hugh and I got ourselves cleaned up.  Bed for the two of us by 12:30 am; I wrote some quick diary notes for about 20 minutes, by flashlight.  Then another Rosary for Connor.  As usual, I did not sleep - too new, too noisy, and still too hyped up yet.  But as I learned long ago, just laying still gives me 75% or so of the value of a night’s sleep, so that’s what I did, with my mind still mulling over the day - and the morrow.  Despite the various fubar’s, a pretty good day, and a pretty good start.