[From the Philmanac - Baldy Town was a small mining community that existed on and off from 1868 to 1940.  It was the center of a prosperous mining district, with the largest of the mines being the mighty Aztec (which had seven different levels to it.)  Mine tours are now given on Level 2 of the French Henry side of the Aztec Ridge.  At one time, there were over 20 structures that comprised Baldy Town; you can see pictures of the town in its heyday in the Baldy Town Museum.  All that remains today are the foundations of some of the buildings, and the rubble that was once the Aztec Mill (which was destroyed by fire in 1923.)  There are signs of mining activity all around the Baldy area, including dumps from other mines such as the Rebel Chief and the Montezuma.  Baldy Camp was purchased as part of the 10,098 acres donated by Mr. Norton Clapp in 1963, and is now used as the site of a Commissary and Trading Post.  The Commissary is on the site of the old Baldy Town School, and was renovated in the fall of 1995.  The current Trading Post was built in 1982.  The foundation of the old Baldy Town Hotel is located just north of the current Baldy Town Museum.  Baldy Camp also has propane showers.  It is the last source of purified water before the trek over Baldy Mountain (elevation:  12,441 feet.)  Baldy is the highest point in Philmont, and offers tremendous views of Wheeler Peak (the highest point in New Mexico at 13,160 feet), the Moreno Valley and Eagle Nest Lake to the south, and the southern portion of Philmont (including the Tooth of Time.)  Crews climbing the summit should depart Baldy Town by no later than 8:00 am, and should carry rain gear, water and food.  Both sides of Baldy Mountain are difficult climbs; however, the Copper Park side is more steep.]

[From the Philmanac - French Henry is named for Henri Buruel, who obtained mining rights from Lucien Maxwell in the 1860's and operated the French Henry Mine on the ridge above Copper Park.  The remains of his cabin are still in the location.  The French Henry Mine is a 60 foot vertical shaft.  Buruel encountered trouble because there was no mill to work his ore.  Maxwell was too busy at Baldy Town, and the closest other mills were at Denver and El Paso.  This area was purchased for Philmont as part of the Baldy Tract in late 1962.  The first staff member was stationed here in 1964, and the staff camp was opened in 1966.  Mine Tours are given in the second level of the Aztec Mine; there is also gold panning in South Ponil Creek, and Blacksmithing was added in the late 70's.  An environmental program was also run here from 1990 to 1992.  The camp had no radio until 1989, and French Henry is still considered to be one of the more primitive staff camps at Philmont.  There is no purified water source; the only water is from South Ponil Creek.  The current Museum Cabin was built in 1895 by the Claude Mining and Milling Company (who also built the original mill on the site.)  The mill featured a 2,700 foot bucket tramway to transport ore from the mines on the ridge north of the camp.  The 2 upper cabins at the camp were built around 1938 by Clinton H. Anderson, who made one last effort at making a profit out of the French Henry Mine - only to find that he'd been duped by the previous owners with "spiked" ore, and the truth was that all the easily mined gold had already been removed from the region.  The blacksmith forge in the upper cabin was completed in 1982.  The trail from French Henry to Copper Park is one of the most challenging on the entire Ranch, and is known as "The Wall."  There are mining relics and dumps throughout the entire region.]

Woke repeatedly through the night (noisy outside with the wind, plus a lumpy tent site on a slant didn’t help matters).  Didn’t set my alarm properly, so didn’t wake up until 3:35 - the first of several Bob screw-ups this morning.  Wakeup call at 3:50 (“Show a light”).  Overcast and 56 degrees - not good at all.  But then it magically cleared up as we were getting ready.  The bear-bags were a bit of a challenge (the bags had twisted in the wind overnight, even though we had raised them right up against the cable), and took some time to get down and back up again.  But prepackaging everything worked well, and we were assembled and ready to go by 4:30.  Then in one of my most embarrassing moments ever at Philmont, I couldn’t figure out the trails out of the camp towards the Ute Meadows trail - or rather, I found the trail OK, but managed to somehow convince myself that it was wrong.  Dumb, dumb, dumb!  Finally semi-figured it out, but still wasn’t really convinced even as we started hiking on it.  Saw a flashlight on the left - turned out to be Dan Ross - who confirmed we were heading right.  5:05 now, so my stupidity in not checking the trail yesterday cost us over half an hour - and half my pride, too.  Crossed the creek below Miranda, and took the left hand trail to Ute Meadows.  Easy walk - moderate uphill, not too rocky.  We arrived at Ute Meadows camp by first light, very quiet, no one up.  No one was parked on the trail this year, so we were able to follow it through the camp fairly easily, found the big frame box and old chimney that marked the start of the switchbacks, and we were on our way.  Now sharply uphill, on the huge switchbacks between Ute Meadows and Baldy Camp.  We’re moving fast, and making up time.  Passed the first of the huge mine tailing piles.  No one at Baldy Camp or in the horse corrals for the Cavalcade treks (guess they’re not running Cavalcades into the North Country yet).  Pulled into Baldytown at 6:10.  One Crew was already there, from San Francisco.  We stopped to eat a quick half-breakfast and watch the sunrise.  Another Crew came up and hiked through, then two more Crews pulled in and also stopped to eat breakfast.  After placing our backpacks under the commissary, and filling two canteens each, we were off again at 6:35.  Hiked hard, and soon caught and passed the Crew who had passed through Baldytown without a break.  We’re moving fast again, with only an occasional caterpillar.  Breezy but sunny - looks like it’s gonna be a good one, and a real relief after seeing the weather conditions at reveille.  Passed that very strange growth on one of the fir trees; got a picture of it this time.  Then we ran into a serious problem roughly around 11,000 feet - Will began suffering from altitude and exercise-induced asthma.  So we stopped while he used his inhaler.  After a few minutes, he said he was OK to continue, but we immediately dropped to a much slower pace and used continuous three man caterpillars to help him, and a little later Hugh took his daypack.  The San Franciscan Crew passed us, then two more; Will seemed embarrassed by this, but we all assured him that was completely unimportant.  Slow and steady wins this race.  The wind picked up as we approached the treeline, blowing pretty good (but not as ridiculous as in some past years).  Once we hit the treeline, we allowed Will to set the Crew pace, and I gave Neil to him as a personal encouraging partner as we reached the scree trail up the final 500 feet of elevation.  Still sunny, but with some fast-flying clouds occasionally breaking over the peak as we worked our way ever-upward. [Photos: 1, 2, 3]  We passed a deer above treeline, eating Alpine grasses and completely oblivious to us; I got a shot of it with Baldytown in the far distant background.  Behind us, we could see a small Crew on Touch-Me-Not and another in the Alpine meadow in the saddle between the two peaks.  The latter Crew caught us just below the summit, so we let them pass.  We gathered up as a group just behind Will and let him summit first, then crowded around him, giving an Arkansas River cheer and breaking into a “Will - Will - Will” chant (he broke down with emotion).  8:50 am, so 2 hours and 20 minutes from Baldytown, not bad.  It was blowing hard and cold, so we all headed over to one of the unoccupied rock cairn on the Wheeler Peak end, and got dressed in our longs and rainsuits.  Will was fine now that he wasn’t sucking air through a straw (no headache, nosebleed, or coughing, and mentally alert, so it really was just asthma - not an altitude sickness issue).  By this point, there were 5 - 6 Crews on top, and more coming up from both the Baldytown and Copper Park/Aztec Ridge sides.  Once everyone was dressed, we headed over to the Wheeler Peak edge and got the classic Crew photos with help of a Crew from New Orleans.  Some clouds on Wheeler, with a few blowing over Baldy, so it was hard to get a perfect shot, and we took half a dozen to compensate (doubtless one will turn out).  Then everyone got solo and tent-pair “mommie shots” with either Touch-Me-Not and the Alpine Meadow (to the south) or Webster Lake (to the southwest) as a backdrop.  With that, we headed back to “our” cairn and ate the rest of breakfast, also rebuilding the cairn a little bit (i.e., filling in gaps in the rock-wall).  Hugh and I also helped two other Crews with their Wheeler Peak shots.  I snagged another tiny rock (my 10th!), and thought a minute on Ron Laubenstine, Frank Cook, and John Polivka (my Advisors when I was here as a Scout).  By 9:30, things were getting crowded on top, and a few Crews (without any shelter) were looking covetously at our cairn, so we agreed it was time to hit the road.  One more quick look at the grand view, then we headed down to the Aztec Ridge Alpine meadow (on the northwest side), picking our way very carefully through the steep scree.  As usual, going down the Copper Park side seemed as difficult as coming up the Baldytown side - this is where you really need the walking sticks.  At the meadow, we turned right and headed down the draw.  Once we were well out of the wind, we took a few minutes to strip clothes.  At the bottom of the draw, there was no snow this year, but we could hear water gurgling under the talus pile.  Intersected the Copper Park trail and picked up the pace considerably.  Then stopped a few minutes later to reorient a “confused” Crew from Colonial Beach, VA - they were on the right trail, but were unsure as to exactly where they were and where they had to go.  We set them straight on their map, and also spent a minute teaching them how to caterpillar (a skill they would be needing in about 15 minutes!)  A few minutes later a Rayado Crew came up - looking fairly sweaty in full packs - followed about 5 minutes later by their two Ranger escorts.  Heading into Copper Park, we saw a large Western Grouse to the left, and took a few photos (first one of the trip).  Very few of those little white moths this year, however.  At Copper Park, we took a bathroom break for Neil, then headed down to the meadow.  Surprisingly, there were several Crews still present in the camp - possibly they had just arrived (I hope - because if this was their summit day, they were way-late).  In the meadow, I gathered everyone together and we turned as one to look up to the summit of Baldy (it seems to loom directly over the meadow, and it’s a pretty neat sight).  From the meadow, we headed down The Wall towards French Henry, arriving at the Aztec Mine at 11:40.  The “Tour in Progress” sign was up, so we piled our stuff to the side to wait.  Fortunately there was no one else present, so we were next up.  As usual, the guys enjoyed playing with the ore cart, and staged a Snidely Whiplash scenario of tying Thomas to the tracks (I acted as Dudley Do-right before he was cut into thirds).  The Crew inside finally exited, blinking hard at the daylight, followed by the staffer (Eric).  They quickly got their stuff together and headed out, and we assembled to get our historical introduction.  Baldy and Aztec have a fascinating history, and Eric did a nice job detailing it out.  [Informational Aside:  This was an extremely rich gold mining area for nearly 50 years, and they took many millions of dollars worth of gold out of it before the high-quality ore ran out.  The entrance we were at (“Aztec/Ponil-2") wasn't really part of the actual gold mine, but rather a so-called "blowout" shaft from one of the primary tunnels, which saved the miners from having to cart tons of rubble all the way back to the main entrance.  Since there were 35 miles of tunnels honeycombing this ridge, on 7 different levels, this was not a trivial issue!]   Following the orientation, we donned our hard-hats and headed in - using both the helmet lights and our flashlights.  Eric spent time discussing how the holes were drilled out for blasting, along with some of the specialized drilling bits used in the work [Photos: 1, 2].  Tough work done by men working by the light of a single candle.  Of note, at the end of the safe section of the shaft, I looked through the boards barring entrance to the shaft going to the right, and saw that it had completely caved in since my last visit in 2000.  However, as best as I could see, the shafts going straight and left were still (mostly) open.  I mentioned to Eric how our 2000 Guide (Jason) had told us about a very large room further in where many of the miners had jackhammered their names and the dates into the walls.  Well, that zone was clearly increasingly inaccessible now, and it was obvious enough why going past the barricades is extremely hazardous (and illegal).  Eric also discussed the reality of what happened inside a mineshaft when a cave-in occurred farther inside (pretty grim even for the guys who weren’t buried under the rocks).  The tour was terminated in the usual, spine-chilling fashion (details intentionally omitted for our website readers!)  After a few photos [Photos: 1, 2], Eric went ahead and had us do the “mucker” (no light) escape, which is always a good time - and also a good Crew building exercise (albeit rather cold on the hands).  Back outside at last, two more Crews present, so we said our thank-you’s to Eric, collected our stuff, and got going.  Continued on down The Wall 10 more minutes to French Henry.  Coming into camp, we were passed by a co-ed Crew on their way up and already having problems - their packs were atrociously fitted, and several of them were literally staggering side-to-side as they walked.  One fell as they passed (laughing), and another also nearly did.  But my immediate offer to help was curtly refused by one of their Advisors, in a tone that boded no argument, so we had to let them go.  Well, as I always say, macho backpacking always comes with its own built-in revenge - too bad this guy’s Scouts would (likely) have to pay the price for his intransigence.  At least an hour of pure hell coming up, probably more, on one of Philmont’s most infamous trails (Oh well...)  We pulled into French Henry at 12:40, and found Dan Ross and Crew 893 in residence, doing gold panning.  Luke and Matt headed up to the cabin to check in, while the rest of the Crew made nice with the camp cat.  A couple of the guys joined me in filling 16 of our water bottles with stream water, then everyone headed up to the porch [Photos: 1, 2], while I stayed and did the Polar-Pure additions, chatting with Dan and some of the other 893 Scouts.  The water was quite cold, so I put a 90 minute time limit on it before drinking.  In the meanwhile, the Crew had finished checking in, and had headed directly to the blacksmithing hut, so I went over myself.  The blacksmith was Derek, and he was already well into his instructional lecture.  As usual, we would be making a “J-Hook”, with each Crew member involved.  The guys really got into it with Derek, picking up immediately on his commands:  “Stop!” - - - “Moooore......” as each guys took his turn at pounding the red-hot iron on the anvil. [Photos: 1, 2]  Soon we had a chorus singing “Moooore” each time Derek gave his “Stop!” order.  And Derek enjoyed the repartee also.  He had named the anvil “Brittany”, and would occasionally pull the J-Hook away suddenly so that the hammer strike would hit the anvil - for which sin we would have to kiss the anvil in apology.  No-one escaped (including myself).  This was greatly enjoyed by everyone.  Lots of photos - we actually ran out of 800 speed film.  We finished at 2:15, thanked Derek, and headed back to our gear.  But we still had to wait a little longer on the Polar Pure’d water, and the weather was starting to look threatening again, so everyone decided to do Gold Panning first.  I stayed behind to continue chatting with Crew 893 and to sort out lunch.  Unbelievably, a subgroup of 893 (about half of them) were going to hike The Wall “for fun” before heading to Baldytown from Copper Park.  Wow! (not my personal idea of fun - but I’m the last guy to discourage seeing everything of Philmont that you can - so go for it).  Down at the mining assay cabin, the guys had “Jen” as their gold-panning instructor. [Photos: 1, 2]  Good time as always, but the cold water (and hunger) limited everyone to half an hour of panning - no luck - and we started lunch at 2:50.  The camp cat quickly returned, looking for treats - and the guys offered a few small bits and lots of petting.  We started getting a few lightning strikes and distant thunder on Baldy and the Aztec Ridge, so we moved up to a small covered porch just below the main cabin.  But the rain limited itself to just a few sprinkles - though it still sounded quite impressive towards Touch-Me-Not.  Crew 893 headed up The Wall at around 3:15, and we geared up 10 minutes later and headed up the road to Baldytown.  Coming around the mountain, we were treated to a great view of the large thunderstorm over the Ute Creek Valley - heading away from us, so no threat.  Also passed another extraordinary firebreak which vertically bisected the ridge, 60 - 75 feet wide and stretching out of sight both uphill and downhill - like at Baldy Skyline/Five Forks, an obviously incredible effort.  I wonder if Philmont will now maintain these as permanent firebreaks - considering the length of the ongoing drought (over five years now), that would seem to make good sense.  45 minutes to Baldytown.  The showerhouse was almost unoccupied, so I encouraged everyone not involved in the Commissary pickup to grab showers immediately - and also to do the laundry of the guys who were doing the Commissary pickup (as a tradeoff).  As we dividing up, we were approached by another Crew - turned out to be Troop 51 from Georgia, whose Crew Chief (Ben Hamm) had been communicating with me for several months by email.  They had been hoping to run into us here, and so had been asking each arriving Crew where they were from (awaiting “Arlington, VA”).  Turned into a rather amusing visit - Ben had been nicknamed “Dr. Bob Junior” for his intense devotion to every detail of their trek, and one of the other Crew members actually asked for my autograph on his hat.  Wild.  Ben and his father both thanked me for all the advice, and we took a quick group photo, then split up since we still had much to do.  [This certainly was one of my more flattering moments at Philmont - I was actually embarrassed.  But I have to admit, it was nice to be personally recognized by one of the hundreds of groups I have assisted electronically through the years.]  Headed up with a subgroup to do our Commissary pickup - only to be immediately frustrated, because we had to have a “Porch Talk” with one of the staffers before we could pick up our food.  Huh???  My attempted intercession was fruitless, so we headed off to the main cabin - only to find that no one was available to give the talk yet.  Our timeline was starting to go critical now, so I begged a talk from “anyone”, and a staffer “Neal” took pity and gave us the quickee version.  About as useful as you might expect (which is to say, Not at All), but at least we got it out of the way.  Back at the Commissary, naturally we were now behind two other Crews, but (with some effort) I managed to keep my patience.  But now we really are running out of time.  Got our food at last, and commenced with frantic meal stripping and package consolidation near the chlorinating pump.  Some of our first showerhouse guys came up, offering to help, but they were now clean, and I didn’t want them to get contaminated with food dust too, so we had to decline their offers.  But we did send the remaining Scouts off to get their showers at 4:40, while Hugh and I finished up.  We returned quite a pile back to the Commissary - all organized in separate bags, not just a hodgepodge, for which the Commissary guys seemed appreciative.  Some other Crews immediately descended to scarf up some of our cast-offs.  Got it done at 4:50, but the Adult side of the showerhouse was unavailable, so Hugh, Thomas, and I filled backpacks (to the gills).  The adult side remained off-limits right up to the 5:00 pm shutoff, so so much for Hugh and I.  Though very sorely tempted to go have a “discussion” with the Camp Director, I resisted; as usual, there’s no point in doing an aggravation dump on someone who is obviously just following policy.  Plus if I hadn’t gotten us misoriented early this morning, we’d have been here half an hour earlier, too.  But this is definitely something for the post-trek evaluation at Basecamp.  Troop 51 came back over as we finished loading (which brightened my spirits a bit), and I spent about 20 minutes with them discussing Baldy (which to my surprise they hadn’t done that day, but rather were doing the next day).  We saddled up around 5:45 - very heavy packs - and even five wasn’t enough for 4 ½ days worth of food and supplies, plus all our wet clothes.  After checking out the telescope, and saying our goodbyes to Troop 51, we pounded down the trail to Ute Meadows.  One of the Crews there also asked for some advice on Baldy, so once again I stopped to help them out (I think they were also from Georgia).  After about 10 minutes, Hugh came back to rescue me.  We returned to Miranda around 7:10 - so as expected, a 14-plus hour day.  Although I am sure it must have rained heavily there that afternoon, the campsite was actually pretty dry.  The staff was running another session of Miranda Mountain Baseball, but we still had plenty to do yet, so passed again.  We immediately sorted out all the food, and repacked all the gear that had been redistributed last night.  Once that was done, we ate one of our lunches for dinner (at this point, no one wanted to cook).  I had a personal chat with Will, asking what he had learned that morning, now that he had had time to reflect on it (that he could do anything he set his mind to, and that his friends would be there for him; good answers).  Held a quick Crew meeting, and spent a few more minutes discussing the next day - short hike to Baldy Skyline, conservation project, a fairly easy day overall.  Everyone laid out their still wet clothes on tents and on several nearby dead trees (all our neighboring Crews were all tying clotheslines up - so much for that “edict”).  I collected all the French Henry Polar Pure’d water from the guys who wanted to refill with Miranda (chlorinated) water, and used it to do a wipe-down and shave (Hugh gave me his razor, having decided not to bother for the rest of the trek).  I think Hugh also wiped himself down.  Well, it ain’t much of a shower, but at least we shouldn’t smell quite so much like bear hors d’oeuvres now.  Bear-bags at 8:15 (took awhile and some effort too - what a load!), then bed.  Almost everyone crashed by 8:45.  I wrote diary til 9:20 - a very full day! - then crashed.

We had light rain at 2:20.  Then had a distant thunder storm grumbling from 4:00 - 5:00, giving us just very light sprinkles to start - but growing.  Since there was no way I was going to sleep through that, I wrote more diary til my alarm went off at 5:15.