Foreword - As you were all aware, I kept a personal diary of our trek - something to help keep our trek alive in your minds down the years, along with the photos, patches and other memorabilia that we gave you. I think you'll enjoy it just as I've written it. However, keep in mind that it was written from my perspective, and therefore includes various self-criticisms, comparisons with prior trips, and suggestions or reminders for future treks, and is also missing certain activities where I stayed back at camp to watch our gear or cook (e.g., Mountain Biking in Buena Vista, Ponil, afternoon, or Miranda, Day One.) I therefore strongly recommend that you each "annotate" it with your own observations and experiences - in this way, your copy becomes more personal. Don't wait too long to do your additions - recollections rarely improve with the passage of time, and it's already been 4 « months. I hope you enjoy our diary, now and down the decades. I also hope you all return to Philmont someday, as I have - now seven times. Finally, do not forget the "Bob-Challenge" I gave to each of you upon our return to Basecamp and again at National Airport - Pass your knowledge and skills to your fellow Scouts, and to future Scout generations. It is all the Thanks I ask; if each of you does his share, I will consider myself well paid. Gentlemen, it has been a privilege.

- Bob

Tuesday, 7/1 - Up at 5:00am, after the usual 3 hours sleep - seems no matter how much prep work I do in the weeks leading up to the trek, I always end up working well past midnight the night before, getting ready. Temp 74 degrees, no breeze, overcast and dreary. The Weather Channel shows rain showers moving in from the west, with heavier rain and thunderstorms expected all week - well, we're outta here anyway, so no big deal. Colorado looks great on the five day outlook; I think our preliminaries in Colorado Springs will be just about perfect weather-wise. Shower and final briefcase review, Class A's (with my Philmont 50-Year Anniversary Arrowhead, of course!), and ready to roll at last. Stu Shelton and Travis showed up at 6:00, Pat Dexter, David and Dave Tacker at 6:10. Off to St. Agnes, with one last stop at the Signet ATM to make a deposit and get some more cash - the ATM works now, so last night's "out-of-order" glitch was obviously fixed overnight. At St. Agnes, almost everyone present by 6:20, with only Clay and Woody missing - everyone too excited to be tired. The big day at last! Clay and Woody showed up at 6:28, just under the wire. After some quick photos and general milling around, we loaded up and headed off to National Airport; other than Stu and Pat (who continued the driving duties), no parents tagged along. Still no rain. National Airport surprisingly empty - I expected a total zoo, but I guess things must ease up after all the 7:00 flights clear out. Final farewells to Stu, Pat, and the vans. The Northwest Airlines sidewalk porter refused to handle us, instead directing us inside. [I'll bet he'd have changed his tune right quick if he knew I always tip the porters $ 20.00 for their assistance!] Inside, two of the regular desk attendants (very cordial) handled us as a separate group, amazingly quick and with nary a hassle; a pleasant surprise compared to our experience with Northwest in 1995. Done by 7:15. Lots of time to kill, so we wandered over to Vie de France and Frank and Stein, then eventually to Jerry's Subs and Pizza (which was serving danish and other breakfast fare) for some munchies. The 13th point of the Scout Law - "A Scout is Hungry!" I guarded our collective pile of carry-on gear while everyone else oinked. 20 minutes, and off to security. As expected, my CB radio gear got a thorough review, with the whip antennas (taped to my walking stick) being a complete mystery to the security personnel. After a quick discussion with the staff, they let us go - once again, those Scout Uniforms still count for some trust! Hope all my film didn't get damaged; they X-rayed the hell out of it. After a group toiety, we headed down to Gate 10 (?) and checked in. Northwest Flight 847, on a Boeing 757. A mom with an Eagle Scout son (from Springfield) wandered over and said "Hello;" the first of many to come, I'm sure - the worldwide fraternity strikes again! Boarded around 8:05, and was immediately disappointed to find that most of our seats were partially wing-obstructed, despite my specific requests to Sharon at Travel Discounters, and also that Rick and Chris were up about a half-dozen rows from the rest of us. Sigh. Oh well, there won't be anything but clouds to see anyway on this leg, so no particular big deal. Hot and humid inside the plane. After they shut the doors (and got the A/C fired up), we moved Chris to a free seat back with the rest of us; Rick stayed up front (to sleep, maybe?) Another mother and Scout son from Troop 1544 (Annandale) turned out to be sitting directly behind us, and gave us another "Hello!" Pushoff at 8:35, and an uneventful takeoff at 8:45, heading south along the Potomac River and Mt. Vernon. Kevin quickly noted the large coal plant in lower Alexandria that we passed on the 25/10 hike last March, and we climbed through the overcast. Five minutes later we broke through to hazy sunshine, and turned northwest to Minneapolis/St. Paul, still climbing quickly. By 9:00, everyone had settled in, reading the Flight magazines or staring out the windows, waiting for breakfast - look like travel veterans already. Breakfast was surprisingly good - bananas, bagels & cream cheese, cheerios and milk, raspberry yogurt and your choice of drink. Brendan quickly discovered that pressurized yogurt containers should be opened away from you, while Kevin managed to scatter his cheerios over 30 square feet of floor. You know you've got to watch out for that turbulence! Cole, who was sitting on the left hand side of the plane, announced to one and all that "he really liked the view to the right," which turned out to be a 17-year old high school senior named Angela (from Minneapolis.) All of the other Scouts quickly agreed (much to her secret amusement, I suspect.) After breakfast, we moved into several card games; Rick, Brendan and Kevin did "Hearts," while everyone else (including Angela) did some poker variants: 2 games of "Baseball," then 2 of "Anaconda." We used the snack peanuts for chips, which worked OK until everyone ate their profits. Thankfully, the descent began before the lack of chips forced us into strip poker! Chewing gum all around (for popping eardrums), and touchdown at 10:57 local. Deplaned with final farewells to Angela, and headed off to Gate 36 - as usual, seemingly on the very far end of the airport relative to our arrival gate. Most of the Scouts wanted to eat at Starbuck's Cafe, but I nixed that idea in favor of something a little more affordable. Dropped our gear at the new gate, and gave Travis $ 60.00 for lunch for the crew; Rick and I stayed behind to re-sort our tickets and finish off some other mundane paperwork chores. After some wandering around, the guys settled on Burger King and Taco Bell - nothing like those exotic airport restaurants, you know! In one of my all-time strangest Philmont travel injuries, K.C. managed to cut his finger badly on a towel dispenser - hey, don't ask me! - and came back bleeding liberally into a couple of napkins. Weird! Too much for bandaids, so we just kept it wrapped up in napkins. Boarded at 11:00am, a DC-9 with 2 Left/3 Right seating. Once again, we ended up with some odd seating - most of the crew in rows 6, 7 and 8; the rest in rows 21 and 22 (back of the plane.) After some additional efforts on K.C.'s finger, we gave up and just had him hold it up in the air, wrapped in napkins, and waited for nature to take its course. After an interminable wait, we finally got rolling at 11:25, with a very fast takeoff at 11:30 (Northwest Flight 1295 to Colorado Springs.) Much better views this time; our ears are "popping" a lot more, too, for some reason. The front group "zoned out" for awhile, waiting for lunch; I hung out in the back to keep tabs on K.C.'s finger and talk with K.C., Brad and Dave. Lunch turned out to be a sandwich, plus some peanuts and pretzels, and the usual drinks. Most of the front group ate it all despite just having finished lunch back in Minneapolis/St. Paul. However, they ran out of meals before getting to the back of the plane, and instead gave us eight $ 5.00 credit coupons good for meals in Colorado Springs - good deal, we'll use them on our return trip on the 16th. I hope the fast-food places take them. Everyone in the back still managed to snag some Pepsi's and peanuts, so no one died of starvation. By 12 noon, we were already over the great plains, clear but hazy, and it just looks blazing hot down there; less green than seems right for this time of the year. I'm guessing it's Kansas to the left, Nebraska to the right, all as flat as the proverbial pancake. Everyone's fatigue is beginning to show - we're all too long sitting without any real exercise. Headed back up front, where Travis and Woody hit me up to see "Men in Black" tonight, or maybe go bowling at the Air Force Academy; we'll see. I suspect we'll all be too beat to do anything more than flop after dinner, but maybe not. Starting to search for the Rockies now; I'm telling the guys to look for a thin white line on the horizon (the snow line on the peaks), which is usually the first thing you can spot. Not yet with the haziness. Began descent by 12:05; finally spotted that white line (and the first distant peaks) by 12:15. The temperature in Colorado Springs was stated to be just 83 degrees - hard to believe, looks hotter outside (or rather, drier.) Very bumpy flight in, bad thermals I guess. Very fast but amazingly smooth landing at 12:28 - best high altitude landing I think I've ever had; Dave agrees. Once inside, we quickly organized the crew, leaving Travis and Brendan in charge of collecting, unwrapping, and moving our gear out to the curb, while, Rick, Dave and I headed off to find the Radisson Hotel and arrange our transportation at Advantage Rent-a-Car. Brilliant sunshine outside, dry with a slight breeze, great view of Pike's Peak looming to the west, and Cheyenne Mountain (home of NORAD) to the southwest. Took the shuttle bus to the Radisson - about a 15 minute drive. Very helpful staff, but it still took the usual 40 minutes to arrange the rentals (2 minivans, 1 medium sized car.) Back to the airport to pick up the crew - nowhere to be found outside, so I guess something was lost in the translation of the instructions. Rick went back inside to find everyone still hanging out at the baggage claim, bored and waiting for us to show. No harm done, but our time pressure is beginning to go redline; with the later-than-usual departure from Washington, we have very little "slop" built into our schedule. Tight fit to get everything in the vehicles, but fit it in we did, albeit barely. It's going to be interesting without the car later, even with one of the van seats out; well, at least they have roof racks, so we'll manage one way or another. Started off using just the straight CB's (i.e., we didn't have time to hook up the external antennas), and headed off directly to the Cave of the Winds, time 2:05. Brilliant sunshine, deep blue skies, a great view of Pike's Peak, and nary a cloud to be seen; what's not to like? Up Interstate 25 to U.S. Rt. 24 West, and up to Cave of the Winds, arriving at 2:40. We spent a few minutes in the parking lot chatting with a wrangler (and petting his horse), then Rick gave out the "Rainbow V" Crew T-Shirts and "USS Cimarron" Crew Hats - both very popular, as expected - while I went in to arrange our tour. Unfortunately, our lantern tour was canceled - too wet and muddy in those sections of the caves from heavy rains the previous week - so we settled for a personal "Discovery" tour (the standard cave tour) at the group rate (a 50 % savings.) A decent deal, even if not what we wanted. Our shirts got some quick comments; my favorite was: "Hey Ryan, I see you're taking the Grateful Dead on tour!" Usual "Luray Caverns" type tour, but interesting anyway. Lots of neat formations, plus a "total cave darkness" experience. Ryan (our guide) had a hard time pronouncing "Luray," and kept calling it "Laurie." We happily set him straight, but I suspect he's still confused. Tour lasted 40 minutes, then we spent an additional half an hour goofing off around the trading post, snack bar, and ever-popular parabolic wishing well - which quickly inhaled all our pennies. I started insisting on increased water intake, as it was obvious that we were all beginning to dehydrate already (including me.) Finally off to Manitou Cliff Dwellings Museum at 4:40. Quick 5 minute drive down Rt. 24 - but we were quite surprised to find that the final Indian Dancing for the day had been moved up to 5:00 instead of 5:15, so we were lucky to have left when we did. After a quick survey of the ruins (actual Pueblo/Anasazi Indian dwellings dating from the 1200's), we sat for the dances. Very hot in the sun, with little breeze, and everyone (including the dancers) were suffering from the heat. The head guy in particular looked to be barely able to stand - turned out he had had a liver transplant just three months ago, and was still in recovery; amazing he was still able to do it at all. They gave us distinctly shortened versions of their three standards - the "Slow War Dance," the "Eagle Dance," and the "Hoop Dance." I gave the usual $ 20.00 donation for the crew, even though it's pretty obvious that they're not exactly hurting here anymore; they've been building add-ons like crazy for the last three years. They finished the session by inviting up all the small children for the "Friendship Circle Dance," and that was it for the day. Rick, Dave and some of the Scouts posed for photos with the family, and we spent about a half-hour touring the museums (tiny) and gift shops (enormous!) The gift shops are all getting rather kitchy now - some nice Native American memorabilia, but also tons of tourist-trap trash. As usual, we (mostly) resisted. One of the cashiers turned out to be a former Scout, quite animated, and the guys had a nice chat with him on some of his own Scouting experiences. Out by 5:45 - tough left hand turn out of the parking lot onto Rt. 24; they need a traffic light there. Way early for dinner, so we took a slow loop tour of the Garden of the Gods, starting from the Visitor's Center access road. As always, very impressive in the late afternoon sun, especially with the still clear, deep blue skies. Something to whet everyone's appetite for the rock climbing tomorrow. We stopped for 10 minutes worth of photos at Balancing Rock, then headed off to Western Sizzlin' for dinner. Arrived 2 minutes after a bus, so our initial entry was pretty slow, but no big deal. Ten crew members selected the buffet, which was superb; Brad and I went for steak dinners instead, also excellent. Lots of water and non-caffeinated drinks all around; I think everyone is (finally) beginning to appreciate how fast this climate dries you out. Lots of favorable comments on our T-Shirts, plus some discussions with folks who knew Scouting and/or Philmont. The "Sundae Bar" got a heavy workout from everyone, and we finally bolted around 8:05 for the U.S. Air Force Academy. 25 minute drive up I-25 and the South Academy Boulevard. Picked up the keys from the Security Building, where Woody also managed to set off the van's security alarm. No sign of Sergeant Townsend (the Scout liaison.) Off to the Scout huts, where we did a quick job of emptying all the gear, then Dave and I immediately headed back to the airport to gas up and drop off the rental car, all routine. Lengthy drive! - we're gonna have to be careful on the 16th to budget adequate time to get the van seat back from the Academy - maybe we'll re-think that plan for some other option, though I'm not sure exactly what. I'm very tired now (at last), and having to slap myself awake on the drive back to the Scout huts - I guess I don't do as well as I used to averaging 3 hours of fitful sleep a night for 10 straight days! Back at the hut, the crew was wired and acting a little goofy, but everyone settled down by 11:30. Beautiful, star-filled night, but getting rather chilly quite fast. I spent about 10 minutes outside staring at the sky, then headed back in to set up my "office" in the side "bedroom," finally crashing around 12:15am A very long day, but a good one - hopefully the first of many to come.

Wednesday, 7/2 - Up at 5:10am, clear skies, about 45 degrees with a slight breeze - chilly! Rick got up at 4:45 for a head-start on the bathroom, but I held out `til my wristwatch went off. Pikes Peak and rock climbing in the Garden of the Gods today. Drafted up a quick "equipment list" for the day for Travis to use in organizing everyone (primarily cold weather gear for the peak, plus a change of clothes for rock climbing and - of course - a canteen.) I completed the setup of the CB's in both vans, plus trash bags; we left the "extra" van seat in for now - no need to be "crunched" in Colorado Springs! Class B's to start, a quick bunk cleanup, and we're outta here. Off to the Academy Boulevard McDonalds - and spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how to get into the parking lot with all the road construction going on; a complete mess. As they say, "You can't get there from here." Finally parked in a construction lot across the street and hiked on over. As always, the super-clean facilities and quick, competent service - in English - were an eye-opening experience for those of us now accustomed to the pathetically bad fast-food outlets back in Northern Virginia. Reminds me of me back at McDonalds # 451 in Camp Hill! 25 minute turnaround and off to Manitou Springs. My timetable continues to be a little too tight for comfort - it works, but there's little room for error; I'll have to build in a little slop next year just to ease my perpetually fretful mind. Got to the Cog Railway right on the dime - 7:30. Surprisingly long line already in place as we arrived; Dave jumped out to hold a spot while we parked. Guys went downstairs to the snack bar (again!) while Dave and I waited out the line. Our reservations were in order (lucky for us!), and we got our tickets and headed on downstairs ourselves. As usual, we're assigned to the last car again - four Philmont trips in a row now; must be a Scout group thing, I guess - although I don't think we smell that bad already! Some kind of semi-professional soccer team also shared the car with us. Got going right at 8:00, right on time. Of course, with just a single line and half a dozen trains going up and down all day, these guys have to be punctuality defined. The cog railway is named after the unusual rail system used by the trains - there are three rails, with the middle one being "geared" (i.e., cut with grooves like a machined gear.) The train's wheels are not powered; the grades are far too steep for normal locomotion. Instead, the engines turn huge geared wheels that slot perfectly into the middle rail. Slow, but very effective at pulling up even the steepest grades. According to the guides, the steepest grade that a normal locomotive can pull is 6 %, whereas the steepest on this line is 26.5 %! [There's supposed to be cog railways in Europe that pull over 40 % grades!] As you might guess, they've got about 16 different braking systems "just in case!" We got the usual nickel tour from the guide (Aaron) on the way up - always interesting, even for an "old-timer" like me. The guides are always fresh and enthusiastic on the first trip up, especially when the weather is as perfect as today. Fantastic views of the Pike National Forest to the left on the way up, then distant views of Colorado Springs and the great plains to the right as we broke above the treeline. Unfortunately, no bighorn sheep to be seen today, probably because of two work crews replacing rails on the upper stretches. The sheep are familiar with humans (and the trains), but by no means tame. Disappointing, but dems da breaks. We did manage to spot a few yellow-bellied marmots here and there among the rocks, but even they seemed scarcer than usual. Maybe it was a tough winter? Finally to the top, 14,110 feet above sea level. I held everyone on the train for a minute while everyone else got off, and we cameled up on water while I gave the guys my usual spiel on avoiding carbonated sodas and taking things nice and slow on the cliffs. Good stiff winds on top, at least 20 - 30 mph, only 27 degrees but bright sunshine making it seem a bit warmer. Some definite pollution visible all around the horizon (especially north and south), but still views of at least 150 miles all around, maybe 200 to the east. Gathered everyone together right off the train for some group and individual shots, then gave them their release. Dave and I did a circuit around the summit, getting thoroughly chilled in the process. After 20 minutes of trying, we finally got a few shots of a marmot; very few outside today. Most of the crew spent most of their stay in the summit house, home of (what else?) a snack bar and a large gift shop. The train finally sounded two long blasts as a ten minute warning, and we headed on back down at 10:05. Everyone a little zoned out from the altitude, and about half the crew took some Advil for headaches and dehydration. Still a beautiful day, almost completely clear. Passed a number of ascending trains on the way down, everyone waving. Aaron continued on a new set of corny jokes and running commentary all the way down, plus gave everyone a sales pitch to buy booklets and videotapes on the history of the Cog Railway (Thanks but no Thanks!) We also spotted a few folks running the "Barr Trail," getting ready for the Pike's Peak Marathon run in a few weeks - now that's crazy! Finally back at 11:15; after another group toiety, we took off for lunch - or rather, tried to, as it took us two tries to figure our way out of the parking lot! Still a little lightheaded, I guess. This was one of our few "unscheduled" lunches; we figured we'd "wing it." Heading back into Manitou Springs, we didn't see anything that struck us as particularly interesting, so we continued on into Colorado Springs proper, and did a circuit around the downtown area. Still nothing, so we finally settled on going back to the Mason Jar, a spot I last tried in 1995. A little pricey, but we were all hungry, sick of fast food, out of time, and the place is pretty close to the Garden of the Gods, so OK. Most importantly, they could take us right away, even though the place was full of the lunch crowd. Great variety of sandwiches and "real" food; as always, I pushed lots of water and non-caffeinated drinks. Not a lot of water at the Garden, that's for sure. Back in the vans, and off to the Visitor's Center by 1:00. Did a slow cruise of the parking lot, and found Mark Van Horn at the far end. Easy enough to spot - he had some climbing harnesses hanging off the back of his green Ford Explorer. Mark looks like my idea of the perfect rock climber - a tall strapping guy with a lanky, muscular build, great mustache. Did a quick intro of the crew, and we headed right on over to the Cathedral Rock - the huge grey sandstone formation. Turned out that Mark had had 4 of his employees there since 9:00 that morning setting up climbs for us - pretty hard-core prep-work, there; I'm impressed. After doing almost the whole circuit loop around the park, we pulled into the parking lot for the old visitor's center (now completely eradicated, but the parking lot is still there), and started getting our personal gear together, and climbing shoes fitted. Back into our sneakers, and we headed on over to Cathedral - a sharp uphill climb through very thick brush, only half a trail. The wind was really howling, blowing gritty sand into everyones' eyes and being a general pain in the ass. Finally up to the rock face - and a real gut check for everyone. The climbing pitches were all very ambitious, with even the easiest climb being significantly more challenging than I had expected. The primary climb ("New Era") was a 150 foot high Class 5 (vertical) run, Level 7 (intermediate) difficulty. Wow! Another four or five runs were also set up, ranging up to 60 foot Class 5/Level 11 (very tough.) Well, I promised everyone the real deal, and this is definitely it. Mark went through the basics while we put our shoes on; I volunteered to be first up on New Era, since I appeared to be the only guy in the crew with any real climbing experience. I also figured that if I could make it, it would go a long way towards encouraging everyone else - and some of the guys looked like they needed some encouraging, too. In one unpleasant surprise, however, I was unhappy to find that Mark had not brought any helmets for us, assuming that we wouldn't want them "because you really don't need them here." I explained that we didn't have any choice - that helmets were required by BSA policy. Well, after some hemming and hawing, he admitted that all his helmets were tied up on another job, and that it would take at least 3 hours (and probably longer) to borrow someone elses' and get them here. He also stated that he had never had an accident here, and felt it was perfectly safe even without headgear. Well, I certainly hope so, `cause we just went right off BSA insurance on this one; we sure can't cancel out now. Something to remember for next time though - never assume someone knows what you want, dammit! Oh well.... After some discussion, we set a 20 minute time limit on New Era; I doubted that we'd have log-jams with 5 different climbs, but I didn't want anyone monopolizing the best climb, either. Well, after tightening my climbing shoes and harness (and checking my Pampers for a snug fit), I tied in with a double Figure-8 and started on up. Experienced or not, I took my sweet time, being very methodical on my hand and foot-holds, with Mark using me as an instructional guide on how to do it. The climbing shoes were a tremendous help - I had forgotten how much better a grip you can achieve with them. Things went pretty well most of the way up, with only one or two dicey spots. My mouth was really dry, though, from all the gasping for breath. I managed to disturb a number of nesting cliff swallows, who flew all around me with indignant cries - you could hear baby swallows cheeping like crazy back in the various cracks and holes, so it was pretty clear why all the moms and dads weren't too thrilled. The last 15 feet were the trickiest by far - just an open face with no hand or foot holds I could reach, just a narrow crack running up to the final carabiner, and 135 feet of nothing underneath. After fighting it for a few minutes, I ended up just reverse-bracing my hands in the cracks, bringing my knees up, and wedging myself a few inches at a time up the last stretch. Didn't think I had the upper body strength to do it that way anymore, but desperation (and pride) proved mightier than my fatigue. Finally made it at 20 minutes, 35 seconds - overtime, but no- one complained. I announced my success with a screamed "I love the Garden of the Gods!!!" Finally took the time to look out over the view - tremendous! - then repelled back down in quick time. Hell of a rush! By the time I got back down, about half the Scouts had started right in on the other climbs, all with good success. Best by far were K.C. and Kevin, who hit all the lower climbs, including the tough Class 5/Level 11 climb to the far left. About half the crew tackled New Era, with K.C., Kevin, Brad, Brendan, Dave and Rick making it all the way to the top; everyone had trouble on that last stretch, but the bigger guys were able to reach around the right side of the bald and find some helpful hand- and footholds that the rest of us couldn't make. Chris and David also made it about two thirds of the way. Just after 6:00, most of the crew headed back down to the road, both to cheer David on his final try up New Era and yell "Hi" at all the passing tourists (many of whom had been stopping to watch us all through the afternoon - "Look at those nuts!") By 6:30, David was done, and the last of the crew headed on back down. After a photo session (and many thanks) with Mark, we cruised for dinner at Furr's Cafeteria - another all-you-can-devour cafeteria with really excellent food. A pretty good crowd when we showed up, but we were served in short order anyway. Everyone stuffed to the gills, once again. Amazingly, despite the already very low prices, they gave us my meal for free (as the "bus driver") plus waived the taxes since we were Boy Scouts. Talk about encouraging repeat business! - well, once a year, anyway. Finished by 8:30 - too early to go to bed yet - so we headed on over to the Putt-Putt golf course just off I-25. Very impressive course - actually two counterparallel courses in one, each with 18 holes. We split into two groups, each taking a separate course. Lots of fun, although some of the Scouts (especially K.C.) got pretty frustrated with their less-than-expert play. In my group, Brendan just beat me out, 50 to 51; I think Dave won the other leg, also with a score of 50. Done by 10:30, and (after stopping to gas up the vans) back to the Academy. I again spent a little time outside, watching the stars and clouds, and unwinding. Pretty good breeze blowing up, with very distant flashes of lightning to the northeast and east. Another great day; the rock climbing is definitely a keeper. Bedtime for everyone else by 11:30; I racked after midnight.

Thursday, 7/3 - Up at 5:00; cool and breezy, 48 degrees and some scattered clouds. Rick again got up early for the bathroom, making an effort to be quiet - but that's hopeless with me, of course. Got the Scouts up immediately, but everyone's moving slow today - still stiff from yesterday's rock climbing, I suspect. Whitewater rafting and mountain biking today, but in Buena Vista - a 2 hour long drive to and from - so no time to waste (again.) Everyone packed up extra clothes and shoes, and we were out the door by 5:50. Back to the Academy Boulevard McDonald's for breakfast again, and back on the road by 6:30. Down I-25 South to Rt. 24 West, and the endless uphill through Ute Pass. Skies clearing rapidly - "It's Perfect Again" - and we were treated to some more great views of a fog- shrouded Pike's Peak to our left as we headed out of Colorado Springs. Lots of commuter traffic heading east to Colorado Springs. Amazing changes in the flora as we headed up, and up, and up, out of Colorado Springs; two distinctly different sets of trees. First was very thick areas of Douglas Fir, Spruce, Aspen and Lodgepole Pines, then more thinly spread Ponderosa Pines. We eventually crested a high plateau spreading in a 50 mile vista in all directions to our front, with distant views of the snow-capped Collegiate Range at least 100 miles away. We immediately stopped for a few photos at a scenic overlook pull-off. An awesome view! The road was only two lanes at this point, but virtually empty moving west. We saw various herds of cattle, plus our first antelope (or, if you prefer, my pet nickname for them: "prairie deer.") Also a dead porcupine, unusually enough. No buffalo herd this year, although we did spot two "solos" off to the left, maybe a quarter mile from the road. Heading down into the valley, we passed some trout streams and various marshy areas showing extensive signs of beaver activity. The road headed straight towards two large peaks to the west; Buena Vista sits right at the base of those peaks (just as Colorado Springs sits at the base of Pike's Peak.) As a prediction, I'd guess this place will be the Colorado Springs of the future - given another 25 years or so - especially with all the Californians immigrating into Colorado. Finally pulled into town (population about 3,000), and made our way down to Riverbend Park. As promised, it was easy enough to find, and we pulled in right on time, at 8:30. Only one bus in the parking lot - Adventure Sport Expeditions - waiting for us and one other smaller group; only 20 people in all. Quite a difference from last year, when Rocky Mountain Tours (whom Adventure Sport Expeditions bought out over the winter) had 80-plus people for their 9:00 run. Well, we'll see if everyone else knows something we don't, or if these guys are just not marketing experts yet. After a quick info exchange, we all got dressed in swimgear and sneakers, plus lacquered up with sun-tan lotion (as it looks to be another blazing sun all day.) We finally boarded the bus and headed to Brown's Canyon - a stretch of the Arkansas River with numerous Class III and IV rapids; about a 20 minute ride. The guides gave us some minor safety discussion on the way - the standard fare - plus more once we arrived at the launching site. After we all got lifejackets, our guides ("Slap" and Bob) unloaded and re-inflated the rafts, and we got a final "how-to" lecture on paddling (emphasizing synchronicity) and a brief lecture on the rafts themselves. The ones they use out here are 8-man, self-bailing models - much larger than the 4-man versions we're more accustomed from our Youghiogheny River trips of 2 - 4 years ago. A little ratty looking too; maintenance and upkeep are clearly not major priorities yet at ASE - or maybe they could only afford to buy the dregs from Rocky Mountain Tours? Well, they're obviously seaworthy, so no big deal. Ready at last, and we slid the rafts down to the river on a double set of metal rails specifically designed for just that purpose. The weather was just about perfect - warm and mostly clear, but with a good breeze; fortunately, we were able to get out on the river just ahead of one much larger group (Noah's Ark Tours, or some similar sounding name.) The Arkansas is shallow but very fast, varying from 30 - 50 foot wide, and quite cold, thank you very much! Not all that impressive to start, but plenty of ripples and minor rapids everywhere. Most of the first couple of miles were spent getting acquainted with the guides, and splash-fights with the other raft. I was once again the undisputed splash-master! "Don't mess with Bob!!!" Finally, however, we got into the real rapids, which then came in rapid succession. The 8-man rafts are much more stable than 4-man rafts, so the rapids were a lot more fun (as opposed to terrifying.) Nonetheless, we were able to give Chris and Woody (our bow Scouts) several ice-cold baths, plus everyone else some cold showers and unexpectedly high doses of adrenaline! (Same for the other raft.) Lot of fun! Interspaced between the rapids, we were treated to several trains running down the canyon, plus some fantastic scenery and beautiful, unusual rock formations. Chris and Woody eventually got specialized wet suit gear to help them warm up; they were starting to suffer from the cold. I hope our "wet-camera" shots turn out OK; I think I got some good ones. Last stretch was an excellent wrap-up - seven separate sets of rapids in a row, none too wild. Done at last, with a hard turn to the shoreline take-out to the right. Seems like it went a good deal quicker this time than last year - probably due to the higher water level this time - but no-one complained; I think we were all about half frozen. The parking lot was sunny and warm, however, so we recovered quickly. ASE had their big van waiting for us; took about half an hour to re-load the rafts and jam the whole crew in. Long drive back to Riverbend Park; we mostly dried out on the drive. Chris kept falling asleep in the back seat, much to everyone else's amusement. Back at the park, we invited the guides to eat with us at Panchos - but they had to pass, apparently they were needed for the afternoon run, too. Well, these guys are all living on the edge of subsistence, so I understand. We tipped each $ 20.00, and took off for lunch. Panchos is yet another hole-in-the-wall type place with excellent food and superb prices. We "discovered" it last year, based on the 1996 guides' recommendations. It was once again a zoo; in one disappointment, they had removed the life-sized dummy of Pancho Villa which had been sitting at the head table last year. So much for ambiance! - but they did still have his picture on the wall, bandoliers and all. About half the crew got the so-called "mondo-burritos;" not as impressive as last year, but huge enough nonetheless. Everyone else went for burgers and tacos. Despite my efforts, they insisted on taking our entire order all together, and - as usual - we were missing a half dozen items, all of which had to be renegotiated. They agreed that they had missed 4 or 5 items, and I ended up paying for two last tacos; no big deal, they're cheap enough. We headed on outside to eat, gratefully accepting the sunlight and heat to dry us out completely from the river. Several guys went back for seconds, so it ended up being a long lunch. Then it was down the street a few blocks to "Trailhead" for mountain biking. Our reservation was in order, and everyone was fitted with TREK bikes with special shocks and all the other usual bells and whistles. Helmets and water bottles all around, a quick safety lecture (and a stern warning not to run over any cactus plants), and (after splitting into "fast" and "sane" groups) we were off for one of the primary trails (missed the name - Webster???) right across from Riverbend Park. The "sane" group turned out to be just Rick and I, but that's OK. Very quickly a steep uphill, tough even in the lowest gears on the bikes. We quickly ran into the tail end of the "fast" group - David was having a lot of difficulty maintaining his balance with the back tire skidding out on every steep uphill, and was quickly getting frustrated. After trying to counsel him for a few minutes without success, we went with "Plan B" - Rick took the first aid kit from me and chased the main group, while I took David back down to the main canyon road paralleling the Arkansas River, which last year's crew had taken. The two of us headed out about 4 - 5 miles to the old railroad tunnels (which still have soot on the ceilings), then up Canyon Road 305 a couple of hundred feet to a scenic overlook. Tough work going up 305! (we're probably near 8,000 feet elevation, so gasping and wheezing are expected.) Good altitude training for Philmont. Nice overlook of the valley and the Collegiate Range. At 4:30, we headed on back to Buena Vista - hitting nearly 30 mph on the downhills. Back in town, we visited the municipal park - which has a large and beautiful reservoir under large trees, cool and quiet. Lots of kids running around and fishing - we could actually see some good sized trout swimming in the current. After cooling off in the shade for awhile, we headed back to Trailhead, and immediately ran into some of the crew coming the other way, off to find some ice cream. I was reluctant (I really wanted about a half gallon of ice-cold coca-cola), but they managed to talk me into it, and we saddled up again. Immediate disaster struck - K.C. caught a driveway seam on the road, and went down in a heap, badly skinning both palms and collecting a few other nicks and scrapes on his elbows and knees. What a mess. Thank God he was still wearing his helmet. We all fell out in the shade of a nearby building, and Rick and I tended to him. After a few minutes, it was obvious that we needed to clean him up in a bathroom to get all the road-grunge out of his skin, so we went back to Pancho's to use their facilities. Rick did most of the dirty work, while K.C. made funny faces. After about 20 minutes, we headed back and got everyone back together again - the rest of the guys were pretty bored by this point - but happy that K.C. was OK. Off for ice cream once again - a little more sedately this time - but I declined and headed on back to Trailhead to make sure we wouldn't get hit up with any late-charges (they said "no problem.") Waited in the shade for about 40 minutes, just relaxing, and the rest of the crew finally dribbled back in small groups. After checkout (no cactus spikes, thank you very much), everyone hung out for a few minutes in the bikeshop (which had lots of specialized camping gear as well as bike stuff), then we snagged some mega drinks at a nearby restaurant (Pizza Hut???) and started getting geared up to leave. I called Conways to set our reservation back 45 minutes - no problem. Also tried calling Sgt. Townsend at the Air Force Academy to try and arrange dropping off the van seat, but all numbers came back with an automated voice message "Not a correct number." The Academy changed their prefix code over two months ago, so this phone company obviously wasn't on the ball yet. Very frustrating, but no crisis yet; I can always try again in Colorado Springs later. Loaded everyone up and cruised, immediately losing my sneakers off the top of my van, where they had been all afternoon drying out - Rick's van got them. Easy drive on Rt. 24 East back to Colorado Springs - apparently some large thunderstorms to the east (dark skies), but we never caught up to any rain. Most of the Scouts fell asleep quickly - another tough day for them - and the best way to travel, for sure. Of course, Rick and I don't have that luxury. I took the opportunity to enjoy my homemade "muzak" tape - twice - during the return trip. Back at the Springs, we found Conway's Red Top Restaurant easily enough, arriving 15 minutes early; everyone changed back into Class C's, and we headed inside. Very cold inside - too much A/C for the weather outside; after a few minutes, I went back outside for a jacket. Of course, it could be fatigue, too - as I well know, the first warning sign that I've pushed myself too hard is feeling badly chilled. Well, a good meal will take care of that, at least for now. Guys all enjoyed the company of our quite young and pretty waitress - Aubrey - obviously her first night as a waitress instead of hostess. I warned everyone not to bust her chops too hard; let's see if we can act like gentlemen. Conways is primarily a female owned and run establishment, with enormous hamburgers - 9 to 10 inches across - as their specialty, but other traditional fare as well. Luckily, you could order a "half burger" - which was actually about two thirds sized; I don't think any of us really needed the whole nine yards. About half the guys went for the burgers. After ordering, I tried Sgt. Townsend, finally getting through - he said he'd meet us at 10:15 at the Scout huts, and lead us to his house to drop off the van seat. Nice guy. Dinner was excellent, even if some of us were falling into the food. Guys wanted to try for bowling or a movie again, but it was too late by this point, plus we had a really early wake-up call (and a very long day) again tomorrow. Finally headed back to the Scout Huts - big thunderstorm to the north - impressive lightning displays during the drive. Nothing sharper than lightning in western night skies. Back at the Huts - we heard a fireworks display "finale" to our east, and saw some flashes. One day early - I'm bummed! - we could have gone to see this if we had known about it! No sign of Sgt. Townsend at 10:15. Light rain fell between 10:30 and 11:30. I called him at 11:00, as the Scouts bedded down; got a busy signal several times. No idea what's going on here! After discussing the situation with Rick, I decided to go ahead and put the van seat on top of the van; both vans have roof racks. There's a very large piece of dropcloth plastic in the trash which we can use to protect the roof, plus I brought extra rope this year for just this sort of contingency (although I had expected to use it for backpacks, not the van seat.) All things considered, it's probably a better option anyway - this'll give us an extra hour and a half of sleep at Philmont on the 16th (which we'll probably need), since we'll be able to go directly to the airport instead of back to the Academy. Finally gave up on Sgt. Townsend around 11:30, and slept heavily. Another great day, but a long one coming up: Tomorrow Philmont!

Friday, 7/4 - Mostly clear with thin clouds overhead; 45 degrees with a moderate breeze blowing; everything still wet from last night's rain. Up at 4:45, excited but still a bit zonked; I guess yesterday wore me out a little more than I thought. Scout reveille at 5:00, with an immediate (and complete) pack up. After finishing my personal packing and getting washed up, I dressed in Class A's; Class B's for everyone else. I headed outside to start in on the vans, and found a note from Sgt. Townsend in the door, apologizing for not showing up the previous night - family emergency - but offering to come this morning when I called. I decided not to call, since it was so early yet, and I still felt that we had already figured out a better option with the roof-rack storage of the van seat. Plus, I figured he didn't need the hassle either; he must have had a long enough night already. I wrote him a long explanatory and thank-you note and clipped it to the paperwork that we needed to drop off at Security, and continued on with our pack-up. We did a pretty good job with the cleanup of the Scout Hut - vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom and kitchen, and other general neatening, plus left some toilet paper, paper towels and trashbags for the next crew. A lot better than we got it, for sure. Gone by 6:00, which is rather late by my standards - we'll have to make it an earlier wakeup call next year; probably 4:00. I absolutely hate getting down to the Ranch too late; you're behind a bunch of other crews, and behind the eight ball, all damn day. Well, another lesson learned - hopefully, the new speed limits on I-25 will help make up some time for us; I certainly hope so. Dropped off the paperwork at the Security Hut - they didn't want to take it, but reluctantly agreed to do so when I explained that Sgt. Townsend had had a family emergency the previous night, and we had missed each other. Easy drive through Colorado Springs, one last time; not too much rush hour traffic yet. South of the city, the speed limit went to 75, and we set cruise controls on the vans, and really flew. As expected, most of the Scouts quickly fell asleep again; high speed highway driving will do it to you every time. Another beautiful sunrise to the east. I'm listening to 98.9 and 99.9 as we head south; well, it keeps me awake, anyway. Rapidly clearing skies to the east, burning off the last of that thin morning cumulus, but the peaks to the right were still shrouded in mist. South of Pueblo, we spotted some more antelope and some buffalo as we approached "Twin Peaks," plus the ubiquitous grazing cattle. I also managed to nail a bird who misjudged our mutual rate of closure. Vans: 1; Birds: 0. Oh well.... Stopped in Trinidad - my now standard breakfast and gas break - and hit the Trinidad McDonalds again after gassing up at the Texaco. Bought premium again; we've got Raton Pass coming up next. Rick re-bandaged K.C. while waiting for breakfast; his palms have improved nicely, but still look pretty painful. We decided to leave them open to air now, and let them scab over and heal. I went ahead and changed the batteries on the CB's again - second time on this; I think I'll go with plug-in models next year, despite their bigger size and clumsiness - this is too much of a pain, and we need to have good communications. 45 minute turnaround on breakfast, and on our way; way too long, even with the extra CB and First Aid duties. We're about an hour behind our optimal 9:00am arrival now; well, now I know we need a 4:00 a.m wakeup next year. Won't the guys in the 1998 crew be thrilled? At least the CB's work semi-OK now. Up the endless climb to Raton Pass and New Mexico, passing slow-moving vehicles and trucks the whole way up - that premium gas really makes a difference on these hills. Finally crested the pass, and headed into New Mexico. Quickly into Raton, then west on U.S. 64 south of town, heading to Cimarron. Saw lots more antelope, especially to the right. Passed the NRA Whittington Center, and I started picking out Philmont mountain formations to our front as we approached the town. I intentionally drove slowly through the town to take a good long look around - they appear to be well recovered from last year's tornado - no obvious damage showing, although a number of businesses that were on the right hand (northern) side of the road aren't there anymore. South on NM Rt. 21 to the Ranch. No buffalo alongside the road this year; I continued pointing out rock formations and peaks as we drove along. Passed Villa Philmonte and the Training Center on the left, then into the main entrance on the right, passing under the new gate (finally adorned with some worn-out boots this year!) 10am on the nose, and I'm instantly amazed (and quite happy) that no-one's in the parking lot! - I expected a total zoo. This is really surprising for mid-morning; I hope we didn't just have 10 buses pull in an hour ago; we'll see. Painfully brilliant sunshine, about 80 degrees, light breeze; "Hey Mom, I'm Home!" Hit the Welcome Center with Travis and Brendan; we got a quick tent and Ranger assignment, "Aaron Banks," and went back outside to wait for him. Rick did a last check on K.C.'s hands while we waited; guys all out of the vans and checking out the rather sedate looking scene. Erin (not Aaron) showed up about 15 minutes later, very thin with piercing gray eyes and close-cropped brown/blonde hair. My first female Ranger, hmmmm! Guys are all impressed. Well, we'll see if they're as good as everyone says. Turns out she's from Springfield, VA, and has two Eagle Scout brothers who had been to Philmont as trekkers; however, this was her first time. We were her sixth crew so far; we'll see if we can't make that her "best" crew for the summer. After introducing her to the crew (and trying to start to do my fade into the background), we went and parked the vans "nose-to-derriere," and unloaded all the gear. Parking lot is really full; as usual, vehicles with Texas license plates outnumber everything else. Unfortunately, our originally assigned tents were still partially occupied (now there's a slow crew!), so we played musical tents for awhile, finally ending up much further away from the cars than at first, in #'s 67 - 73. Well, if we can't backpack 200 yards, we're already in trouble, right? We took a second to give Erin her crew T-Shirt and cap, which earned us our first smiles of the day. After saddling up, we were pleasantly surprised to find that we were able to get everything in one trip - another advantage of putting all the crew gear in our backpacks this year, and not taking the footlockers. However, our new assigned tents also turned out to be not quite ready for us - this is getting old pretty quick - so we just put everything in Rick and my tents, and got ready to hit the zoo. Canteens and ponchos all around, plus our "critical forms" paperwork. Admin was quick and easy - always is when you've got all your paperwork in order and payments complete - but Trip Planning much less so. Our planning guide ("Tim") was pretty unhappy with our proposed changes, despite the fact that we were essentially duplicating last year's changes. After some discussion, he and Erin left for a long consult with the Ranger Desk, while we sat and sweated. [I found out later that they grilled Erin pretty hard, and felt that she had encouraged us to tackle a much too ambitious trek start. This is apparently a pretty big problem with a few Rangers (who get sick of doing repetitive "diaper hikes" with all their crews), and Erin was known to be an ambitious hiker.] Well, we finally got Old Camp and Dan Beard approved, but Tim absolutely refused to schedule the 8:00am horseback ride at Ponil, telling us that "no-one can make it that far (from Dan Beard) in time." He remained unconvinced when I told him we'd done it twice before, including the previous year, but relented at least to the point where we could ask the wranglers to switch us from 1:00pm to 8:00am "if we got there in time." Well, as President Reagan used to say, 90 % of what I want is a pretty good deal, especially if I can get the other 10 % later. We can make Ponil by 7:45am, no problem - and if they've got enough horses, they'll let us tag along. I'm happy, even if it took way too long to bring it to closure. I'm going to have to remember to bring our prior crew leaders' copies in future years as "proof" that we've done these things before - maybe that'll help avoid this nonsense. Erin, Travis, Brendan and Dave headed back outside for some First Aid training with the crew, while I spent a few minutes checking out the trail map and water board. We're in good shape - other than the Miranda/Maxwell to Baldy Skyline trail, everything's open, and we've got water everywhere except Upper Bench, our scheduled dry camp. Coming outside, I headed on over to First Aid to see if we could get in before lunch; dammit, I should have brought the crew - they were completely free, but were about to close for lunch. Too late to go back and get the crew, now. Nuts! Well, we'll try to be first after lunch. Back at Planning, Erin was finishing the First Aid Q & A session, and we wandered over to the Dining Hall. After watching the usual rousing chorus of "I want to go back to Philmont" (aka: the Philmont Ranger Song), we managed to get first place in line, which will help our time pressure later. Erin was impressed that everyone already knew the Philmont grace; I think she's beginning to recognize that our crew is more than just a little bit above the average with respect to preparation and training. Not the first Ranger I've surprised (nor the last!) Lunch was eminently forgettable - cheeseburgers, et al. Pretty sad in comparison with the meals we've eaten in Colorado the last 4 days. Rick and I concentrated on salad and bug juice, which was "orange stuff" this particular meal. In what's starting to become an annual occurrence, another Ranger came up and greeted me by name - Robert Wells, one of the Scouts from Troop 623 who I brought to Philmont (as Council Planemaster) in 1992. Turns out he and another Troop 623 Scout (Thomas Hill) who was a flyfishing instructor, would be at Ponil the same day we were; so we agreed to hook up in the Cantina after lunch that day. Robert was on detached duty from West Point for half a summer as a Philmont Ranger. Pretty cool! After finishing up, we headed out quickly to the First Aid Hut, and signed in as first in line. Still relatively uncrowded everywhere, much to my surprise - I can't figure out why there are so few crews today. Either this was one of those increasingly rare days that wasn't sold out, or an awful lot of crews were really late getting to the Ranch. Erin went through her crew equipment check-off list while we waited - of course, we had every single item on the list - so much for the usual 2 - 3 hours at Logistics! - and she finally stopped looking at her watch every 5 minutes. Medical re-certs went fairly quickly, although I was somewhat distressed to find my blood pressure at 105/70, which is fairly high for me (even if much lower than the average Adult Advisor.) Too many of those delicious quarter pounders with cheese! We had a minor hang-up with Brad's inhaler, but were able to straighten that out without too much hassle, and we were out of there in short order. Good deal - medical re-certs have been a real thorn in some years past. Next up was food and Coleman fuel; I also stopped at the Post Office and picked up our mail - a few letters was all we had. Back to the tents for the Ranger shakedown, which once again was far too casual - over the last five years, it has become obvious that Philmont has changed their philosophy on equipment shakedowns, from insisting on "doing it their way" to advisement only (or, if you prefer: "If you're stupid enough to carry all that crap, that's your problem, not ours.") I guess they got tired of arguing with fools all the time; can't say I blame them. It'll be interesting seeing what other crews are carrying this year; the last two years have certainly been eye-opening. "My Prediction?: Pain!" Anyway, Erin went through the list very quickly, and didn't do much of a survey to see if anyone was carrying things they didn't need. Travis and Woody were both bringing extra junk - not enough for me to make a major issue of it, just enough to annoy me - but I guess I'm tired of arguing about it, too, especially in the face of their stonewalling about it. Well, no-one could tell me shit when I was here as a boy, either. The only problems Erin raised was with our crew gear, which included real soap and shampoo (instead of CampSuds), and HTH. The only issue with the real soap was its biodegradability, and she ended up agreeing that we weren't bringing enough to worry about. On the HTH, however, Philmont has now completely banned the use of chlorine on the Ranch, following the advice of N.O.L.S. and the Sierra Club. This is a change from the last two years, where its use was "strongly discouraged." "Caving in" might be a better term than "following the advice of." This is really annoying - the enviro-nuts have recently decided that chlorine is the latest Great Satan, and are actively working to ban the use of all chlorinated compounds throughout the United States. Of course, without chlorinated compounds, we'd all die, but that's beside the point; what the hell does a Ph.D. chemist know? Now, however, rather than teaching everyone proper (i.e., sharply limited) use, they've gone and banned it altogether - so much for the Scouts' Health and Safety! We've got 250 square miles of wilderness, and we're desperately concerned about a thousand square yards of sumps (which are already thoroughly nasty) - ridiculous! Maybe someday everyone (even N.O.L.S.) will understand that you don't need to apply standards that apply to camping in the desert, the Arctic or above 12,000 feet to non-sensitive areas. Growl! Well, I'm not going to have a crew of Scouts all suffering from diarrhea - I've had to deal with that before, and it's no fun at all. The HTH stays; as always, we'll just be very circumspect in its use and disposal. That polished off our equipment shakedown, and Erin took her leave of us to go and get her own stuff ready. We spent the next hour or so divvying up the crew gear and food, and packing everything up ready to go, using the pack scale to keep everyone fairly even. As always, the pack scale had an immediate beneficial effect in getting everyone to pick up their fair share of crew gear and food. We set a nominal weight maximum of 35 pounds per man, with two full canteens of water, and with David being around 30 (in deference to his continuing foot problems.) Things are getting hectic again; Travis, Brendan and all three Adults have our respective "staging" meetings at 4:45, and we're running out of time. Still, we're already getting close to "ready to go," and I'm feeling a lot happier - our average carry weight of just under 35 pounds per man is my best ever, beating last year's record by better than 1.5 pounds (which is a ton in this context.) With that, we were off to the Crew Chiefs and Advisors meetings, leaving Kevin in charge of the Crew up `til dinnertime. Some of the guys stayed back at the tents, playing with the football I brought along; others went to the trading post for a quick scout-around (I think.) The Adult Advisors' meeting was, once again, not too valuable; just the usual platitudes about our "vital roles," and some marketing of other programs offered by the Ranch. It's a real shame - most of these guys are information starved, and this would be an ideal forum to help them, if only they would. At least they've stopped the old practice of determining which Advisor had been to Philmont the most times (who would then be tasked with handing out all the Philmont Arrowheads at the Closing campfire 11 days later.) It was always some old guy from Texas who had been there 20 or 30 times; it got embarrassing after awhile, and also somewhat annoying to those of us who had come 2,000 miles to get there - not 300. In one down note, we were informed that 1999 was already almost sold out, which is certainly discouraging (although Frank Riegelman, the current program director, seemed quite happy about it.) The best piece of information was a graphical representation of injuries and dehydration cases versus days-on-the-trail, which showed that Day 3 was the peak problem day for the entire trek. Of course, that's just after the Ranger has left, and also when the mileage jumps up from 2 - 4 miles to 6 - 10, so maybe it's not such a surprise after all. Day 11 (the last day) also shows a sharp increase - probably from everyone taking the hike in over the Tooth of Time, which is one long, dry, rocky and nasty piece of trail; the stretch from the Tooth to Basecamp is probably my least favorite hike on the Ranch (although I'm a rare bird in that opinion.) We finally broke up around 5:30, and headed back to the dining hall to rejoin the crew (and Erin) for dinner. Travis and Brendan indicated that their meeting was no better than ours; pretty sad when even the Scouts know their time was wasted. Something else to remember for my evaluation on the 15th. After another rousing chorus of "I want to go back to Philmont" by the Rangers, we headed in for dinner (once again nearly first in line), and then quickly back to the tents for our final prep. Gathering clouds over the Tooth Ridge (and a major thunder-storm to the north) lent some urgency to getting everyones' tents set up for the night, and to getting our last carry-on gear sorted out. Light rain started around 7:30, and rapidly grew to a pretty good downpour, complete with thunder and lightning, and (eventually) pea sized hail! The ground outside the tents rapidly became a shallow lake ranging from 1 to 3 inches deep - always amazing that ground so obviously dry doesn't soak up every drop that hits it. Shades of 1995, when a tremendous downpour lasting 6 to 8 hours turned all of Basecamp into the Great Flat Lake. ...and like `95, we basically said "forget it" on the Opening Campfire, even though most crews headed on over. However, the storm passed by abruptly around 8:15, and we decided to give it a shot; Erin had also sent Brendan and Kevin (who had apparently gone over at 8:00) back to encourage the rest of us to come on over to the Welcome Center, which is where they were holding the "rain-out" version of the campfire. Despite the crowd, we managed to get a pretty good vantage point standing to the left side, where it had been raining heavily a few minutes before. The opening campfire consists of a series of vignettes featuring an Anasazi Indian woman, a Conquistador, a mountain-man, a Texas Ranger, a gold miner, a cowboy, etc., plus Waite Phillips, all discussing their roles in the history of the Ranch. An emcee ties everything together with a running narrative. When it's done well, it's a nice intro to Philmont. By the time we arrived, they had already finished the Anasazi and Conquistador skits, and were just starting in on the mountain-man. This year's version was pretty good, despite the need to hold it in the Center (and even though we were late, I think the crew all enjoyed the rest of the show.) Occasional flashes of lightning to the east also lent a nice touch. They ended the night with the Philmont Hymn, holding up a huge plywood "poster" with all the words so that the Scouts could join in (and, surprisingly enough, many did.) When it was over, Erin held us at the Center while everyone else departed, and gave us some final preparatory words concerning our departure in the morning; she seemed quite impressed with our 34.5 pound average weight, and said she thought her next lightest crew so far that summer had been "about 55 pounds each." Ouch! After arranging our morning meeting place and time, she departed back to the Ranger's area, while the Adults headed back to the tents. I think most of the Scouts headed off for one last shot at the snack bar (not sure on that.) After finishing up my final packing, I headed over to the Advisor's Lounge to write up some more of the diary - bad mistake! - I instantly became the "Oracle of All Knowledge" for a dozen information-famished Advisors, all of whom fired questions at me for two straight hours. Well, I got about half a paragraph written, anyway, so better than nothing. Maybe I should just play dumb? ...naah! Finally escaped around 12:15, and, after grabbing a quick shower, hit the rack around 12:45 or so. Still mostly cloudy, but some stars peeking through here and there, plus a good breeze still blowing down off Tooth Ridge. Tomorrow, Philmont really begins....

Saturday, 7/5 - Up around 5:10am (first light), 51 degrees, moderate breeze, thin clouds on the eastern horizon. Looks to be another painfully "bright" day - OK by me! Lots of coyotes howling last night - had to have been at least 20, all going for it at once, an eerie but very impressive chorus. Despite the chill, I went ahead and got dressed in just my hiking clothes. Dave went ahead and woke the crew up around 5:25, and everyone got dressed and completed their final packup of carry-on gear (which we moved to the vans for safekeeping for the duration.) As always, the vans are a definite plus for storage purposes - no way could we fit all our stuff in the little locker that Philmont allocates to each crew (although someone told me that they'll now give you 2 or 3 lockers if you really need them.) Oddly enough, the vans won't allow you to set the alarm systems if the windows are cracked, so (having no desire for charcoal broiled gear when we returned) I went without. Back at the tents, I gave Chris the third camera and some basic instructions; after some internal debate, I decided to just use slide film in my camera (for eventual training slide shows), leaving the "regular" photography to Chris and Dave. After a quick sweep-out of the tents, we saddled up and headed on over to the Welcome Center, setting up our packline up against one of the inside posts; surprisingly, we weren't first - there were already about a half dozen crews' packlines already set up (might have been crews that were leaving for home that morning, though - not sure.) After formally checking out of our tents at the office, we headed over to the Dining Hall for breakfast; the crew continued to show alacrity in getting to the front of the entry line. Hash browns, ham, eggs, blueberry "bread," cereal, PB & J and drink mix. Well, there's enough, anyway. I passed on the eggs, and pounded down as much drink mix as I could stand. Done by 7:00, and off to crew photos, again at the "classic" spot overlooking Basecamp with the Tooth of Time in the background. Ain't gonna work today, no way - the sun is above the horizon now, and way too fierce. They used to do a shot by the Dining Hall statue to avoid this problem, but (again) I guess they got tired of arguing about it with everyone. Well, we'll see.... We went ahead and took a few photos of our own first, while waiting; the "official" photographers showed up around 7:30 and took 2 shots. Despite my counseling (1 - 2 - 3 - look up!), they waited way too long after we looked into the camera (and right into the sun) before snapping away - there's absolutely no chance these will turn out. Well, we'll re-do our own when we return on the 15th, in the afternoon, and wearing our crew T-shirts. Based on my past experiences, I suspect that we won't be able to link up with Erin for the second try, but that can't be helped at this point. Following this waste of time, we wandered back to the Welcome Center to await the 8:00 buses. The first (# 3) arrived at 7:40, and turned out to be ours, plus we were the only crew on it (which seemed a bit odd, since 6-Mile Gate is a common starting point for a number of treks.) Loading was finished in short order, and we were on our way (at last!) at 7:50. Erin gave the usual spiel on the trip out, pointing out the arrowhead formation on the north face of the Tooth of Time Ridge, talking about "mini-bear traps," comments on Villa Philmonte, the polo fields, Philmont's buffalo herd, the Seton Museum, Training Center, neighboring ranches, the big fire in Cimarron, coal mines, etc. Not too much talking by the Scouts - everyone taking final stock of themselves, I guess, plus the bus was awfully noisy bouncing over the back roads. Once at the gate (8:30), we quickly unloaded and set up a pack line (away from the barbed wire fences!), and Erin continued on the final pre-trek training - hiking protocols, map and compass use, emergency procedures, and proper stretching techniques. After vitamins all around and a final camel-up on water, we saddled up and started on our way to Indian Writings, using the parallel trail starting at the cattle guard steps. About 9:15 or so. Immediately passed some flowering cactus and an impressive beaver dam, plus numerous fallen trees ranging from 4 to 12 inches diameter that the beaver(s) had gnawed through - pretty impressive work there! Half an hour in, we also stopped off to see the fossilized print of a Tyrranosaurus Rex, about 30 yards off the trail to the left. This is allegedly the best such fossil in the entire world, right here at Philmont. It's protected by a chain-link fence to prevent vandalism, and was unfortunately partially obscured by a bunch of weeds - they need to do some gardening work there. Impressive nonetheless. Passed Anasazi (one of the many Ranger/starter camps), with impressive views of towering rock formations and palisades on both sides of the valley. Beautiful, clear blue skies, with large, fluffy white clouds drifting along. After crossing the creek several times, we finally pulled into Indian Writings around 10:50; 4 miles of hiking in about an hour and a half, with one stop for the T. Rex footprint - pretty good pace. I stopped the crew to give a few minutes instruction on staff camp entry protocol (might as well start off right!), and we walked up to the staff cabin, stacked our packs, and sent Travis and Brendan on up to check in. The staff quickly invited the rest of the crew up to share some bug juice, which everyone appreciated; two other crews showed up right after us - turned out to be the two Trek 21 crews one day ahead of us (who had spent the night at McBride Canyon.) As usual, the staff refused to start the program, despite the fact that everyone was already there and ready to go, and signed us up for 1:00pm Something else to complain about on our evaluations - this is the third time they've done this to us, and we always end up getting rained on during the tour. Oh well, can't be helped now.... We used the time to grab some lunch and continue Erin's Ranger training - bears, lightning, fires and trash. I also chatted with the two 703 Trek 21 crews, who were impressed with our itinerary changes, and groused that McBride Canyon was "a waste of time." Gee, there's a surprise! Just as we completed our training, another "Crew from Hell" pulled in - each carrying a huge, killer backpack that had to weigh 55 - 60 pounds, easy. They looked real happy, too - well, as I always say, macho backpacking has its own built-in revenge; I'll bet these guys aren't feeling so tough anymore. A sudden crack of thunder chased everyone back to their packs for rain-gear; I went ahead and pulled the tarp out for eventual use over the whole pack line, but left it rolled up for the moment. Breezy but no rain yet. As expected, the tour got started just as the first droplets hit (it never fails!), but that was pretty much it to start. I stayed by the packs (and the tarp) and continued on the diary while the rest of the crew headed off with the crowd to do the Petroglyph Tour. The petroglyphs are various designs "chipped" into the rock faces of the canyon by the Anasazi Indians who lived here in the 1200's (before the Great Drought drove them away.) There are a variety of glyphs, including power symbols and depictions of the sun, the canyon, rivers, and corn. Still clear and powerful, 750 years later. A much younger glyph of a horse (which can be seen high on the canyon wall) was done by Jicarilla Apaches perhaps 300 years ago - but that is apparently the only Apache glyph in the canyon. After viewing the glyphs, about half the crowd continued on to two excavated Anasazi kivas in the middle of the valley floor - these were the Indian's protected dwellings, which have been completely excavated by Scouts over the past 40 years or so; very interesting. In addition, there's a burned-out squatter's cabin dating from the Colfax County Land Wars of the late 1800's. Amazing how there's history on top of history all over this land. The thunderstorm had continued to grow more impressive (especially to the south), and one of the 703 Trek 21 crews hustled back, saddled up and took off for Cottonwood camp, after pleading and being denied permission to stay at Indian Writings for the night (my view of this behavior can only be described as amused disgust.) I decided to spread the tarp, but only a few more drops fell, despite the ominous looking skies. Another crew with very heavy packs staggered in, also looking unhappy - I'm beginning to realize that this is going to be a very common sight this trek. Our storm finally drifted off to the south, so we lucked out there. The crew finally returned around 2:30 or so; everyone seemed to have enjoyed the tour. The other trek 21 crew also asked to stay at Indian Writings for the night - with no better luck than the first group - and took off up the road. Unbelievable. After doing our usual stretching and cameling up, we started hiking on up to Old Camp, trying to find a parallel trail listed on the maps as cutting off the trail to Hart Peak. After ten minutes of fairly steep uphill, it (finally) became obvious that the map was a liar, and that there was no such trail, so we headed on back down to the road and played "chase the jackrabbit" with the recently departed 703 crew. Clear skies and a hot sun now, but also a good breeze, so it's not too bad hiking, even in the open. Unfortunately, I immediately started suffering from, shall we say, some gastrointestinal upset, and had a hard time keeping up with the crew (who just desperately wanted to catch those guys!) I also didn't want to stop, myself, because of the growing time pressure - we've still got plenty to do today. Caught the 703 crew just as they split off to head up the trail to Cottonwood, so the guys were happy - we continued on up to Old Camp at a steady pace, no breaks, pulling in around 4:30. Old Camp hasn't been used much for years, and was therefore rather poorly marked; the well and bear-bag cable were obvious, but nothing else. After some gawking around, we split everyone up to try and find the actual campsites (while I headed off for the red-roof inn at double time, passing Site 3 in the process.) As it turned out, Site 3 was the only site we ever found, so that was it for the night. Not a bad site - right next to a small copse of trees, with a gentle slope down to the road. Nice meadow camping tonight. A strong wind out of the north complicated setup - especially the tarp, which we ended up setting up lean-to style, with its back to the wind. Bear-bags and water went quickly, but dinner a little slower with Erin continuing her training. After some debate (vis-a-vis the apparent storm clouds to the north), we went ahead and set up the tents - also with their backs into the wind. Dinner was beef stroganoff with corn/chicken noodle soup. Nothing better than trail food when you're starving! We had to take some drink mixes out of a breakfast, since this dinner didn't have any. Desert was Oreo cookies and Erin's Ranger Surprise - pound cake with cherry topping. Delicious. Cleanup seemed to be an afterthought, so I went ahead and started in on it (much to Travis' displeasure, but time was getting on.) Erin was very impressed with the "Bob-method" of cleanup - especially the scrub-brush, colander-type frisbee, and drying tarp - yet another Ranger convert! After dinner, Chris and Travis climbed the steep mesa to the east - managing to not break a leg or get bit by a rattlesnake in the process, and got some bird's- eye-view pictures of the campsite for us. We changed into "night clothes" and started in on rinsing out everyone's hiking clothes - as usual, everyone was amazed at just how dirty the rinse water got (especially considering that these clothes were fresh just this morning!) A couple of deer came out of the woods right at dusk, paying us almost no mind; the first of many to come, I'm sure. Still windy and getting quite chilly, with fairly heavy clouds moving in from the north (but no sign of rain.) After an excellent reflection session, we decided against waiting (and hoping) for a star-filled sky, and hit the rack. Pretty good site, except for the exposure to the wind. 9:15 sack-time, 44 degrees. All in all a good day, and a good start. An early wakeup call tomorrow.

Sunday, 7/6 - Reveille at 5:10, 48 degrees, ominously overcast and still - maybe a rainy day, but it doesn't feel like it. Moderately fast camp breakdown, everyone still a little groggy and "learning how." After a quick reflection session on how we did (everyone agreed we could do a lot better), we were on our way by 6:40, doing a spread-hike down to the road to minimize any further meadow damage. In all honesty, not at all bad for the first morning on the trail. The weather appeared to be clearing as opposed to closing on us - good sign. Up the road a few hundred feet to the Cook Canyon trail, stopping briefly to re-erect the fallen Ridge trail sign, and up we went, heading to Dan Beard. Hiked for 40 minutes, and Travis called for breakfast at a muddy cattle watering pond adjacent to a barbed-wire fence. Skies clearing and getting warm quickly. Raisin Bran, Apple-flavored breakfast bars, and (the ever popular) pemmican bars, plus water. Yum. 30 minutes and gone, continuing up the canyon with occasional caterpillaring. Stopped briefly at Cook Canyon camp (a little used trail camp with a solar powered well), but we're still good on water, so no need to purify anything here (and why carry the weight?) Caterpillared continuously up the last steep stretches to the ridgeline; Erin again impressed with our speed and lack of need for breaks, calling us the "Caterpillar Kings" (apparently, all her former crews took long breaks every 15 or 20 minutes of hiking, which drove her nuts.) Our first break came at the top of the ridge, and I again emphasized to everyone that you never want to stop on the upslope unless you absolutely have to - because starting up again is torture, and you lose all the benefit of the rest within a minute or two of starting out. Nothing like a positive example to prove the point! 10 minutes packs-off break, and on our way down the Ridge Road, stopping at the crest above the camp for multiple photo opportunities (with the first of many great overlooks with Mt. Baldy in the background.) Down the very steep jeep-road to the camp and the staff cabin - only one staff member present. Dan Beard is named after one of the founding fathers of Boy Scouts in America; although it's been staffed for many years, its remote locale at the far northern end of the Ranch relegated it to second class status as a camp. Now, however, all the Valle Vidal treks pass through on their way north (and also back south), so it's a jumpin' place! For the moment, however, it was just us and the staff guy. After the usual quick intro, he led us to a great site - first reasonably flat site I've ever gotten at Dan Beard. We did a quick setup of our bearbags and tarp, and immediately headed back down for the program (the Dan Beard Challenge Course.) Two other staff members had returned to the cabin in the interim - we got "Ann," who started us off immediately with a "ball-toss" game right next to the cabin. Basically, this involved tossing 10 balls in a row in a pre-determined sequence around the circled-up crew as fast as possible. Tough but fun - maybe a good game for the Projectoree next Spring. Following this, it was back up the killer hill to the ridgeline, where all the other games were set up. We did have one diversion on the way up, as a 3 foot rattlesnake crossed the road, offering a few photo opportunities. Erin claimed this to be her "first rattlesnake;" hard to believe, the damned things are everywhere. Once on top, we started right in on the challenge course. This consists of about 10 different COPE type crew-building events; each crew generally gets to do 4 or 5 of the available events, so it can be significantly different from year to year. This year, we got the Hula-Hoop Relay, Blind Man's Island Rescue, Tire Pass-Through, Rope Swing and Moms' Birthday Log. Kind of like the Projectoree, but without formal scoring or competition against anyone else - just for fun. I didn't participate, but instead took photos while the rest of the crew went through the games. Pretty good time, and an excellent crew building exercise (which was, of course, one of the primary reasons I wanted to schedule this camp on Day 2.) Once we finished, we headed on back down the hill for the last (and most popular) event - the wall climb. Dan Beard features the highest wall on the Ranch - 13 foot high. The idea is to get the whole crew over the top, with the trickiest part being the last guy, who has to make a pretty good jump to catch the outstretched hands of the guys already on top. Well, we did fairly well on this, although David sat it out in deference to his still tender foot and the fact that he had re-injured his foot on a similar wall at Camp Letts several months before. At the last minute, I also decided to give it a try - bad mistake, as Rick was unable to hold my fat carcass on the first try, and I dropped about 4 feet, crunching two of my toenails in the process. I'll lose both in a few weeks, but fortunately they weren't too painful to walk on. Happened before, and it'll happen again; no big deal. Guess I should have stuck to taking photos! Second try up was a little less dramatic, with half the crew levitating me, and we were done. Back to camp for a very late lunch, then R & R - guys tossed the football around, napped, and played a modified game of "20 Questions" with Rick. More and more crews pulled in and set up all around us; again, all either going to or coming from the Valle - we're the oddballs doing a trek down in the "primary" part of the Ranch. Travis, Brendan and I did a quick map survey for tomorrow's trek down to Ponil, and we decided to do as much camp breakdown after dinner as possible in order to save time (and avoid losing gear in the dark) the next morning. Erin took about half the crew on a 90 minute long long circuit hike to the north of camp, up along the Valle Vidal fenceline; they reported finding the "usual" problems outside of camp - semi-buried food (which had already been dug up by animals) and several piles of human waste and toilet paper. Just delightful, especially before dinner. Again, I hate to say it, but this is the fault of shoddy Ranger training; problems like this have just exploded all across the Ranch the last 5 years, and the management is doing virtually nothing in response. Well, more grist for my evaluation, not that it'll do any good. Dinner was the usual "glop" meal - I'm writing this the next day (at Ponil) and I've already forgotten what is was! None of it went into the trash, though - those teenage appetites are starting to scream for more calories. Just as we were finishing up, we heard about a small bear that had run right through the main part of the camp about 15 minutes before, heading up into the Valle. [We had heard all the ruckus, but missed the actual show.] Later on, a late arriving crew that ended up setting up right next to us told us it had run right past them as they were coming into Dan Beard from the Valle. Well, I'm sure we'll see one or two bears in the next 9 days, though things are a far cry from the dozens we would see back in the 70's! Rick, Dave and I passed on the Advisor's Coffee in favor of our crew's "Ranger Moment" - where the Ranger discusses his/her philosophy of what Philmont means, and what we should try to learn and achieve. Taking my suggestion, Erin took the crew up to the promontory overlooking the camp - which gives both a bird's eye view of the camp itself plus a superb view of the western mountains, still all aglow with the fading sunlight. Erin spoke first, then I added my own comments (which primarily concerned my handing down the legacy of Philmont to these Scouts, just as it had been handed to me by John Polivka, Ron Laubenstine and Frank Cook in 1972 and `73.) Between the two of us, a pretty powerful message, I think. Back down at dusk, and up to the campsite in the last of the twilight. After spending a few last minutes getting everything possible packed up for our 4 am wakeup call, most of the guys hit the rack. Per my request, Erin, Travis, Brendan and I stayed up awhile longer for a Ranger critique session; Erin was pretty complimentary, telling us that we were the first crew she had seen that actually cooperated and worked at having a good time, but also that (what else?) I should do less of the crew work. [Yeah, and a leopard should change into tiger stripes! Some things I can't help anymore...] With that, we hit the rack ourselves, although I had to ask our neighboring crew to keep the noise down (these were that late arriving crew that had seen the bear up in the Valle; 10 pm and they were just starting to eat dinner, by the light of 2 Coleman Lanterns! Just unbelievable....) Still pretty warm - about 55 degrees, with just a light breeze, broken clouds and stars overhead. Another good day.

Monday, 7/7 - Up at 4:00am, beautiful stars, 48 degrees. Brendan did the wakeup duties today. We did a quick pack-up in the dark, using flashlights and trying to be as quiet as possible, and headed down to the water spigot at first light (4:55 or so.) Everyone topped off on water, and after a quick reflection session (including some warning comments from me on the dangers of the trail for the first half mile, we headed down to Ponil. As promised, the first stretches were rocky, wet, and pretty treacherous; the trail crosses and re-crosses the creek 20 times or so in the first couple of hundred yards out of camp. We're pushing pretty hard, but without getting stupid about it. Things improved quickly with daylight and better trail as we headed south. Hiked `til 6, then stopped for breakfast in an open meadow, with clear blue skies overhead. Erin, however, kept on going, saying she wanted to hike all the way to Basecamp that day - wow! Well, they said she was a hiking maniac, but I think even I would quail at that long and strenuous a hike in one day - gotta be 25 miles at least! A quick 15 minute chomp for us, and on the trail again, hiking hard. Finally broke into the open road area around Bent; just a few crews starting to stir in Bent, Sioux and upper Ponil - as expected, we'll be finished with our hike before they even get up! Into Ponil by 7:40, excellent time, and down to the corrals by 7:50. The guys were all kind of tense waiting to see if we would get our desired ride, but (as expected) the wranglers were indifferent to our formally scheduled time, so long as there were sufficient horses. Great! - and since no one else was even present yet, we finally started to relax. We all changed into long pants and slathered ourselves in suntan lotion and (for some) insect repellent. At 8 am sharp, the head wrangler invited us into the corral, and asked me to read the rules aloud to everyone. Just as I finished, another 2 crews finally showed up, and we had to start all over again. However, that was it on crews - just 26 riders in all. Works for me! We just "earned" the best horseride in Philmont. The rest of them don't know what they're missing. After a quick orientation, it was helmets and horses all around and we were on our way; 8:40 start - quickest time yet for me. Some of the guys were a little intimidated by the size of the horses - these are "real" horses, and just tower over us - but the nervousness wore off quickly when it became apparent that they were as tame as the one we had been petting back at the Cave of the Winds in Colorado Springs. My horse was named "Mizzou" - a brown and white gelding - and the wranglers said they gave him (it?) to me because he was a difficult ("motivationally challenged and kind of aggressive") horse and I looked like I knew what I was doing. Well, let's hope so! This trail is certainly not one to have a horse go nuts on you, that's for sure. As always, we let the horses find their own friends for the ride - you might be friends, but the horses you're riding might be bitter enemies. It's nose to derriere the whole way. For a change, I ended up near the front of the line. Great ride up the mountain to Dean Skyline - better and better views the whole way up, fantastic weather. Some of the Scouts in the group had a little trouble getting their horses to keep up, but otherwise, everyone did fine. Mizzou lived up to his billing, but we rapidly came to an "understanding." I held off on pictures `til we got to the top - the best part of this ride is that it goes right to the crest of the Dean Skyline Ridge, and you get some great views of Baldy in the distance. Virtually every other ride at Philmont (including the afternoon Ponil ride) stay at lower altitudes. About an hour and 15 minutes to the crest, then immediately back down again, with the weather continuing to hold. Last stretches pretty dusty and hot, with the horses occasionally breaking into a canter to close up gaps in the line. Finally back down to Ponil, 10:45, 2 hours total round-trip, just enough for everyone (except Rick) to get tired of it. An excellent ride! Once out of the corral, we headed back down to the main camp, but bypassed the Office in favor of the Cantina - which was surprisingly nearly empty. Another benefit of being early! Thomas Hill and Bob Wells (from my 1992 Plane Contingent) were both at the "bar," and we had a nice chat while the guys hogged out on rootbeer and munchies. Turns out that Tom was the staff honcho for fly fishing at Ponil, while Bob was a Ranger, but returning to West Point the next day, having completed his six week long stint at Philmont. As you might imagine, the relationship resulted in some serious discounts for Crew 704-Q! Well 45 minutes, 6 pitchers and about 35 snacks later, we finally bid "adios" and headed on over to the Office Cabin for check-in. Our site guide "Adam" was highly impressed that we had made the 8:00am horseback ride from Dan Beard, saying that almost no-one ever makes it that far that fast. Hey, look at it shine, huh? After a quick orientation talk (including a serious bear problem at Ponil), he led us to a very nice site directly opposite the shower house - grassy, shady and flat, right next to the creek - what's not to like? After some discussion, we decided against putting up either the tarp or the tents, and instead headed on over to the shower house to scrape off the first 2 or 3 layers of grime and wash our clothes. I took advantage of a much needed shower - felt great. Just as I was finishing up, however, I was hugely surprised by a giant clap of thunder - it had been a clear blue sky not 10 minutes earlier! Coming outside, there was a giant storm brewing right over the ridge in North Ponil Canyon (we were in Middle Ponil Canyon), trying to fight its way over the crest of Hart Peak (and slowly succeeding.) We hustled back to camp and set up the tarp just as the rain moved in; plenty of thunder and lightning, but all about a mile away, so no particular hazard here. A Cavalcade crew came racing in, followed soon thereafter by the 1:00 horseride group, everyone soaked and miserable; so much for the afternoon ride - we really lucked out this morning. Just about the whole crew stayed on the porch of the shower house to wait out the main storm, continuing to wash clothes and just "hanging out." Rick and I fixed one of the drains for the sinks; as always, it was clogged with the top from a CampSuds bottle. Third year in a row I've had to do this, despite my previous suggestions that they install some kind of screen or sieve trap to prevent this very scenario. We also did a complete cleanup of the showerhouse, which was rather nasty - especially a pair of bio-hazardous hiking shorts which the original owner had deposited (in his shame) out of sight on top of one of the stall dividers. Pretty foul, plus the kid was out a thirty dollar pair of North Face shorts, too. Dave and I handled that particular chore - none of the Scouts would touch it. Well, after we sealed that in a zip-lock, the place smelled significantly better, anyway. All-in-all, we left it a lot better than we found it. The storm finally moved on out by about 3:30 or so, and most of the crew quickly headed off for fly-fishing, horseshoes, and more Cantina. Dave, Brendan, Brad, Travis and I hit the commissary for our food pickup. As I always try to do, we also did a complete cleanout and reorganization of the swap box, and then a major strip-down of our meals, jettisoning half the Spreadables, all the Hot Chocolate and Oatmeal, and a few of the less exciting meal items - and, of course, trading in a much better selection from the now well-organized swap box. Not only did we shed some serious weight, we also created a much better set of meals. Yet another "Bob-Trick." The commissary guy thought we were all nuts, but he did appreciate our swap-box efforts, and snagged all the Hot Chocolate we had isolated for later use in the Chuckwagon Breakfasts. I was a little disappointed that he didn't give us some extra goodies - usually they will as a thank-you, but not today. Well, we did pretty well anyway. Back at the site, we gave the crew their continued release to do "fun stuff" `til 5:30, while Rick, Brad and I created a mega-dinner of Chicken Rice Dinner, Chicken Soup, corn and Apple Brown Betty which - finally! - was enough to stuff everyone to the gills. After KP, bear-bags, and tents (we were the only crew in our immediate area with dry tents; everyone else had set theirs up before it rained), we headed on over for the 8pm Cantina show. Very crowded - at least 80 people jammed into the commissary, including a bunch of Staff members and Rangers. In a first for me at the Ponil Cantina, I ended up doing 2 songs during the show, using Reggie Jones' guitar (the same which he had let me borrow at Clark's Fork the previous year): Ghost Chickens (a take-off on Ghost Riders) and Georgetown (probably the most popular song on the Ranch for the Staff and Rangers.) I think both went over very well; most of the Philmont staff sang along on Georgetown, which was pretty cool. First time I've ever just picked up a foreign guitar and sang and played for an audience, cold. Other songs included "Don't Pet the Dog," "Subaru," "Rain," "Gertrude," "Cowboy's Lament," and others, plus some skits. Ended about 9:45, which made for a very long day for 704-Q! Final goodbyes to Thomas Hill and Bob Wells, then back to the site under stars and broken clouds, still reasonably warm. A great day.

Tuesday, 7/8 - Up at 5:00, clear, heavy dew fall, 34 degrees! - where did last night's warmth disappear to? Everyone moving slow - cold, wet and barely awake; yesterday's long day and late bedtime has us all staggering. As usual, we're the only crew up, but no-one's complainin' about that; they've all seen the benefits of pre-dawn-to-dusk schedules. Wilson Mesa today, since the crew voted to bag out on the burro packing (they'd all heard the 1996 crew's warnings!) Finally on the road to Bent at 6:15, at a moderate pace. Various amusements abounded - two crews had Scouts starting fires, another had their two Adults doing all the breakfast work, with nary a Scout in sight, and above all, mostly everyone still asleep. Way to miss Philmont, guys! Well, not to be meanspirited about it, but not our problem.... Cruised up to Bent, and broke for breakfast at one of the campfire rings, with 2 adjacent crews just beginning to stir. 20 minutes, and gone for the mesa. Five minutes of uphill, and we stopped for an all-hands strip down to regular hiking clothes - didn't take long to work that morning chill out of our bones! Nearly continuous caterpillaring all the way up; as always, seems a lot further in actuality than what it seems on the map. Finally made it to the mesa ledge itself - gritty soil and sparse pine trees, with intermittent views of the southern Colorado Rockies through the trees to our right (North.) Once again, looks to be a "boringly perfect" day. After a half hour walk through the pines, we finally broke out into the clear area (the whole reason for the hike), and gained the small ridge at the far end. This area is clear due to a terrible forest fire about 20 years ago, sparked by a lightning strike - a natural disaster which gave us a natural wonder, as fantastic mountain views loomed at every quadrant, particularly Mt. Baldy to the immediate west. We stopped for a lengthy packs-off break at some rock-piles at the small crest, broke out the last of the snacks from the Cantina, and sat back to enjoy the view. A veritable herd of mini-bears soon made their appearance, all looking for more Scout food. Damn things are nearly tame with all the crews that come through here. In one barbaric but also amusing episode, we all watched a brief but intense mini-bear fight over a single cookie crumb, with the loser heading for the hills at high speed. Lucky thing we don't handle food division the same way! After 15 minutes, we took a few photos and continued on to the Alpine Lake/Meadow at the western end of the mesa, again taking the classic crew shot with the lake and Mt Baldy silhouetted in the background; hope this turns out! Continuing on, we turned right and continued along the Philmont boundary fenceline, heading towards Pueblano. Dave and I caught a glimpse of something quite large moving fast through the far edges of the Alpine meadow; probably a bear or (more likely) an elk. A good quarter mile away, so no way to take a picture of it even if it had stopped. Finally started downhill off the western edge of the mesa - noted plenty of rock walls and other ruins leftover from the homesteaders who had settled here until driven out during the Colfax County Land Wars. Easy enough to spot if you take the time to look for them (which, of course, few do.) Pulled into Pueblano just behind another crew who had come down from Baldy Camp (they said); I didn't think that camp was being used anymore. Both crews checked in together with "Ron;" we were fortunate to get an immediate spar-pole climbing appointment, and so quickly changed into long pants and headed over to the climbing area. The climbing mimics the techniques used by the high timber men during the logging era of Philmont, and involves "spiking" all the way up a 25 - 30 foot high spar-pole with special boot "spikes" and a web-belt wrapped around the spar, then repelling back down using the safety rope. Of course, it's a lot easier for us, since the real guys had to work around branches, carry all their cutting equipment, and work over 100 feet off the ground! I'm pretty sure logging is still the single most dangerous "major" occupation in the world, beating out even mining, and it's easy to see why. After a quick orientation from "Colin," we got going immediately. Our "Garden of the Gods" training came in useful, as most of the guys were a bit intimidated by the swaying of the spars and the less than secure spiking and handholds. Our waist belts were also slipping some, especially with our nylon pants, which didn't help any. The one place at Philmont where bluejeans would be preferred. However, everyone eventually made it up, if a bit slowly. For a change, the Adults were the quickest - with Rick and I being about equally fast up the poles. Following the climbing session, we ate lunch in front of the staff cabin and chatted with the Illinois Crew (which had arrived while we had been climbing); I pretty much passed on lunch in favor of playing four songs on the porch with Ron's guitar. That was over quickly enough, and we headed off for Pueblano Ruins, making it in an easy 25 minutes flat. Weather starting to close in a little now. Not surprisingly, we were the first crew to arrive at the "Ruins," and quickly chose Site 1, a nice grassy area to the immediate left just as you cross South Ponil Creek and enter camp. We did a quick tarp setup, and waited out a little light (and brief) rain, then got going on dinner. KC, Cole, Brad Chris and Dave hiked to the top of the mesa to the North of the campsite, taking about 35 minutes to get to the top. I spent about 2 hours diary writing over by the creek, listening to the yelled "hellooos" echoing down from the mesa, and greeting other arriving crews. Illinois arrived at 4:30; they got the spar pole climbing in at Pueblano despite the rain - lucky! - usually they immediately cancel all climbing when things get wet. The mesa crew finally returned, and we ate around 5:30 or so. After cleanup, bear-bags, and a quick tent set-up, we cruised back down to Pueblano for the famed "Philmont Story Campfire," gathering firewood along the way. Arrived at the staff cabin 20 minutes late, but they were just getting going on the "tough man contest." This is where the staff solicits stories from all the participants concerning how tough they are, and what they've endured to prove it. KC wanted to participate, badly, until I told him what the winners' "prizes" were - the right to carry 2 heavy water buckets up to the campfire! [I know, I "won" in 1992.] Well, the winners were declared in due course, and we all headed up the canyon to the campfire . Rapidly getting quite chilly, with a bitter little breeze flowing down the canyon, clear skies overhead filling with stars. A lot of cold Scouts coming up, that's for sure - we were pretty chilled ourselves, despite bringing a fair amount of our cold-weather stuff to wear. Despite the discomfort, though, it was an outstanding campfire - the best I've seen here since 1992 (and lightyears better than 1995 or 96.) Lots of songs, jokes, skits, stories and "tall-tale" yarns. Ron is an excellent musician, the winner of the last two Texas state fiddle championships (but can play half a dozen other instruments as well.) Songs included two of my personal favorites: Peter Rowan's "Land of the Navajo," and Mike Cross' "Appalachian Fiddle" (changed to "Rocky Mountain Fiddle, of course!) They went to 9:30, by which time we were all about half frozen, and called it a night. Everyone else took off immediately, but we spent an extra 15 minutes standing around the campfire warming up and enjoying a heavy-metal version of the Philmont Hymn (now there's sacrilege!!!) But finally it was our turn to go, too, and after a quick 5 minutes refilling water bottles at the camp spigot, we did our usual Pueblano Ruins night hike. After several pleas for the Scouts to slow down, I finally put Rick in front to set a sane pace; the last thing we needed was to be spread out over 400 yards of trail in the middle of the night. Took about 35 minutes, not bad for hiking hard by intermittent flashlight. Also helped keep us warm. Once back at the site, we spent about 20 minutes star gazing, spotting 1 meteor and about 6 - 8 satellites; of interest, 2 of the satellites actually appeared to collide, while another chased, caught and passed a slower one on an apparently identical track. Of course, everything was separated by hundreds (maybe thousands) of miles in space, but it was a neat show nonetheless. Very chilly (38 degrees) as we finally hit the rack, around 10:45. Another great but very long day.

Wednesday, 7/9 - Up at 5:00, only 34 degrees, lots of dew again. Despite only six hours of sleep last night, everyone's moving pretty well - I think we're finally hitting our stride. Gone by 6:00, just behind 2 crews who had come up from Pueblano (I think), leaving at first light for the Baldy Skyline trail and Ewell's Park (one of the close-in staging camps for ascending Mt. Baldy.) Not sure what trek they were on (23???), but it's always nice to see a few other crews that have a clue. Nobody else up in Pueblano Ruins. We continued up the trail to Baldy Skyline, catching both of the Pueblano crews within 10 minutes, just before the trail got steep and rocky. Pretty brutal uphill - my first time on this particular trail (every other time I've had to hike down to Pueblano first for burros or program, and then took a different trail to Miranda.) We immediately renamed the trail as the "Pueblano Ruins Death March," which is a pretty apt description. And to think we were actually cold 20 minutes before! Finally crested the skyline at the famous "5 Forks" intersection - "Time Awaits You in these Hills." Great views to eat breakfast by, Baldy and Touch Me Not right in front of us. Looks to be another "boringly perfect day," too - gee, what a shame! Took our usual 20 minutes, then headed on down the steep jeep road to Miranda. I warned the guys that we'd be coming back up this same road in 2 days time, "so enjoy the downhill." Near Miranda, we took the cut-trail past the burro corrals and into camp. Miranda is a seemingly endless uphill meadow, with the staff cabin a half-mile up at the far end; fortunately, the staff stay at a mountain man's/trader's tent about half way up. Looks like they're building a new staff cabin just to the lower right of the original at the upper end of the meadow - and it's a big one, too. Have to check it out later. Beautiful views of Baldy from the lower meadow. After checking in and getting the first (9:00 am) program time for Mountain Man Rendezvous and Black Powder Rifle Shooting, we followed the staff guy to our site - # 11 - reasonably flat and shady. Good breeze still blowing, but warming up nicely. After dropping packs and isolating the crew gear, I gave everyone their release to go to the program (it was already almost 9:00 by this point), while I stayed to watch the gear, relax a little, and do some more writing. Everyone took off, and I got going on our bear bags, hoisting them up solo (they were pretty light by this point, since our next food pickup was the next day.) Then it was time for "animal amusements" - first, I absolutely terrorized a mini-bear that came right into camp and immediately jumped on one of our packs about 4 feet away from me. I suddenly lunged at him (her?) and screamed bloody murder - first time I've ever seen a chipmunk literally turn itself inside out. He was still running at full speed 60 yards away when I lost sight of him - and he never returned. Probably suffered a heart attack. Next was a very persistent chirping over by the bear-bags, where a small bird was mercilessly chasing and pecking at a squirrel that was in a nearby tree. This went on for 10 minutes at least, with the squirrel making a jump to a new branch, and the bird immediately diving at him and driving him nuts. First time I've ever seen anything like this. Finally, after switching to his third or fourth tree, the squirrel came back down to ground level and raced off, with the bird in hot pursuit. I still don't know what this territorial dispute was all about (defending a common food source from encroachment, maybe?), but Mr. Bird ended up champion for the day. About this time the first "booms" from the black powder rifle shooting stated echoing through the site, so the crew was obviously moving right along in their program. I bagged out on further writing, and spent about a half hour washing my clothes. The crew finally returned, with Travis triumphantly sporting his massacred T-shirt (at least a dozen knife slashes and bullet holes.) After a quick tarp set-up, we did a group lunch; I used the time to do some minor orientation concerning Baldy - mainly emphasizing the need for everyone to get walking sticks for the next day (a must for the extremely steep downhill off Baldy to Copper Park.) After lunch, most of the guys went ahead and started hunting down and carving walking sticks; I "recruited" David, Brad and Brendan to try and knock off some of their needed conservation hours. We spent several hours building rock wall erosion barriers across a watershed ditch which ran right next to the campsite - badly needed conservation work, plus it cleared most of the campsite of all medium to large-sized rocks (of which there were hundreds.) After a slow start, the guys got into it pretty good, and we ended up building 4 large walls, each at least 8 foot wide, 2 to 3 foot wide and 1 to 2 feet deep. Good job. When we finally called it a done deal, most of the rest of the crew was busy sleeping under the tarp, washing their own clothes, or carving smooth hand-grips on their walking sticks. I headed on up to the staff cabin with a set of strings and my sheet music, hoping for a little R & R with one of their guitars. Well, their "guitars" turned out to be just one guitar, and in pretty sad shape, too, with two missing and four pretty rusty strings. I quickly remedied that situation, but held off on playing, since the owner wasn't around yet (even though I knew who he was from previous years.) Always better to ask permission. Talked over the new cabin with the staff guys - turns out it's actually going to be some kind of program cabin, done up to resemble an early 19th Century homesteader's cabin. Since the windows were enormous, they were clearly carrying the period thing only so far, but it still looked like it would be a pretty fair effort at authenticity. However, the guys weren't sure if the staff would even be allowed to stay in it (which seems pretty ludicrous, but what do I know?) Headed back down to the site, spending a few extra minutes to re-scout the trails to Ute Meadows - even though I know the area pretty well, things always look different at 4:30 in the morning, and it's gonna be a long enough day already without missing the trailhead. The entire Baldy area is notorious for lost crews. Back at the site, I prepped dinner with Brad and Rick - more "glop," as usual. Dinner came with yet more hard-core "Bob" discussion about climbing Baldy tomorrow, using my check-off sheet to get everyone on-line. Emphasized getting everything packed in the daypacks tonight, to save time and confusion in the morning, with everyone's daypacks placed in one of the bearbags. We decided to bring shower stuff and clothing in our daypacks, plus two packs (Rick and Brad's) for food and fuel. About this time another crew pulled in next to us, just getting set up at 6:30 pm! - Unbelievable... After bringing my discussion to a merciful conclusion, it was back to the staff cabin again, with Dave in tow, leaving cleanup, daypacks and bear-bags for the Scouts. This time I brought my extra Baldy equipment check-off list with me, for posting on the wall at the staff cabin; hopefully, this will alleviate some of the constant questioning of the staff that I've noticed in my previous stays here. The head honcho at the cabin turned out to be Spencer "from Cimarron," whom I knew from previous years. He obviously didn't recognize me until I asked to borrow his guitar, whereupon he thanked me profusely for the re-stringing, and claimed he remembered me from 2 previous years. He thought my checkoff list was a great idea, and immediately tacked it to the wall. We swapped the guitar back and forth, and I played about half a dozen songs, with a number of additional Advisors listening in, swapping stories, and asking questions of the staff and myself. My checkoff list got a pretty brisk workout, too, which was nice to see. Finally headed back just before dusk, with the crew still getting their daypacks and gear together. Our neighboring crew was cooking dinner by Coleman lantern by this point (which probably explains why they didn't pull into camp `til after 6 pm); they also had several enormous 4 and 6-man dome tents, which is a first for me at Philmont. Sometimes you don't know whether to ruefully shake your head or just start giggling hysterically. Well, I'm sure they were comfortable, anyway. My proximity to these guys must have been fatal, however, as in a very bad mistake, I insisted on everyone keeping their flashlights in their daypacks, inside the bear-bag. Well, even I can still go brain-dead on occasion. It didn't take long to figure it out - but by then most of the crew was already in bed and we just decided to leave it as is and sort it out in the morning; with luck, there'll be plenty of starlight to see by anyway. Bed by 9:20, still pretty warm, broken clouds and stars above, nice breeze. A prayer for the morrow - Lord, please give us a good day....

Thursday, 7/10 - Up at 3:50am; I did the wakeup routine at 4:00. Very warm still - 55 degrees! - hope this doesn't portend big thunderstorms later. Stunning sky overhead - perfectly clear and star-filled; great! As feared, however, last night's flashlight mess immediately rematerialized, with everyone fumbling around trying to feel their way into their clothes. Damn, damn, DAMN! A dead loss of at least 15 minutes while we got the bear bags down and got everyone outfitted with their lights and daypacks. By 4:30, we circled up and did an item-by-item check, cameled up on water, then headed out past our still sleeping neighbors. Even with my scouting out the trail the previous day, I still ended up out in the main meadow before I got my bearings, and we got ourselves turned around and headed down the road to the lower meadow below our campsite. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mini-bear. Found the trailhead to Ute Meadows easily enough, and turned left and back into the gloom of the forest, flashlights on. Within 5 minutes, we stopped to strip clothing, and I went right down to nothing but my silk underwear - and even that was hot on me. Five minutes later I stripped to the waist, which was just about right (if a bit odd looking to the rest of the crew.) At first light, Chris took over trailbreaking duties, and we cruised. The trail was pretty wet to start, with a small creek running down it at various sections, but rapidly improved as we began climbing. Quickly at Ute Meadows camp, with a huge beaver dam (at least 60 feet long) to the left. Only a few folks up in the camp yet, and we didn't stop to chat. A long way to go, and a short time to get there. At the upper end of the camp, I found the landmark "box" - some artifact from Philmont's mining history - which marked the left-hand cutoff trail to Baldy. Not at all obvious, they need a trailsign there (most crews just go straight.) Now it's a steep uphill, switchbacks gaining the ridgeline spine to Baldy camp, with a glorious day breaking all around us. Stopped briefly at Baldy camp for a quick latrine call - one crew was camping there, which is unusual (I thought they closed this camp several years ago) - then up to Baldytown proper, passing a herd of Calvalcade horses in the lower corrals as we approached. Pulled in at 6:15 - excellent time! - two other crews were already present (which is really unusual - and they looked surprised to see us, too!) Stopped to eat breakfast, fill up on water, and enjoy the view. In a first for me since the 1970's, we also had to get ourselves checked out by a Ranger "Dan," who wanted to make sure we were properly equipped for the ascent and knew where we were going. Not a problem, right, guys? He did seem impressed to hear that we had already arrived from Miranda, which is the furthest staging camp for Baldy. In one good move, he allowed us to store our two packs in a storage basement under the commissary; certainly better than leaving them on the porch, as we've had to do in years past. Finally headed out at 6:45, immediately behind another crew (who turned out to be slowpokes); I finally asked them to please step to one side and let us pass. They did so with some grumbling, one guy saying to the others that "don't sweat it, we'll beat those guys." Yeah, right, as soon as you grow wings - this is the easy part, chump! Had problems with Brad and Travis on their walking sticks - both managed to forget theirs at our first clothes-stripping trailbreak (Travis semi-intentionally, I think, since he didn't think he needed, and didn't want to carry, his stick.) We eventually managed to get replacements alongside the trail. Up and up and up now, heading towards the treeline and Alpine Meadow below the crest. Surprisingly few birds or other wildlife - this area is usually teeming with creatures early in the morning. Maybe another crew ahead of us??? In fact, there was another crew, but it turned out to be a Rayado crew coming down the mountain - they had done Baldy for sunrise, leaving from Ewell's Park at midnight. Hard core, baby! - I'm suitably impressed! We're still moving well, constantly caterpillaring, but the altitude effects are starting to get us, everyone gasping for breath. David was really starting to suffer, and I took and started carrying his daypack; Travis eventually spelled me, and we swapped off twice more on the way up. Broke through the treeline and cruised right through the Alpine Meadow (no elk today) and on up the face. Guys starting to slip and dig in on the scree; hard to get a solid foot down. Surprisingly, no one on the peak yet; usually, you see the first crews from Copper Park between 8:00 and 8:30. After one last break at the mine entrance, we caterpillared right up to the top, arriving all together (as a crew!) at 9:15 - first crew up that day, after the Rayado crazies. What a rush! At least a hundred mile view in all directions. After an Arkansas River cheer, we headed towards the western peak, looking to set up our standard crew shot with Wheeler (the tallest peak in New Mexico) in the background. 12,441 feet of elevation, and worth every drop of sweat to get here. Pretty stiff breeze blowing, about 25 mph or so, and everyone started re-layering clothes to keep warm. Crew # 2, from Juniata County, Pennsylvania, arrived at 9:25, climbing from the Copper Park side; we immediately exchanged photo duties, both groups using every camera they had. I also took individual shots of each crew member, most with Touch Me Not in the background; these should look great! After a few minutes more of wandering around, we broke ourselves into two groups and shared lunch, with both groups taking advantage of some of the rock wall wind-shelters on top. We needed the shelter, too - despite the sunshine, the wind chilled everyone pretty quick. More and more crews started showing up, all from the Copper Park side; eventually, we saw one of the crews from Baldytown on the Alpine Meadow - but they spread out across the meadow to check out the view. Another crew passed by them and started on the final ascent, still 30 hard minutes to go. After lunch, most of the crew passed out and caught some Z's in the rock shelters (that altitude again!), while Dave and I explored the rest of the peak, snagging ourselves a couple of souvenir rocks in the process (# 7 for me!) I always find this mountaintop to be an amazing display of man's ability to use (and in this case, abuse) the environment. Baldy isn't a natural bald - it got this way from extensive hydraulic gold-mining in the 19th century [Note - hydraulic mining is where high pressure water is used to sluice away every grain of gold-bearing sand; an extraordinarily effective - and also extraordinarily brutal - way to get every last ounce of gold out of ore-bearing soils. Clint Eastwood's movie "Pale Rider" shows how it works, if you're ever interested.] After a few more minutes of sightseeing, we headed back to round of the crew and head on down - an hour and a half on top is plenty, and things were starting to get pretty crowded with more and more crews arriving - at least 8 were present by this point, with 2 or 3 more coming up from the Baldytown side. Time to go. I ended with a silent prayer for Frank Cook, Ron Laubenstine and John Polivka [Note - my Advisors from the early 70's], and we headed down the extremely steep Copper Park side. This is where the walking sticks come in handy; the slope is just brutal, with the scree being extremely treacherous to pick your way down. The trail we selected (the center one) also turned out to be a poor choice; we should have gone to the far right. Some of the guys had very little trouble, but the rest of us took it easy - except Rick, who took it upon himself to try the all-out downhill run as the fastest way down. Great if you don't slip or place a foot badly. Well, he managed to pull it off, with me with my heart in my throat watching him. Amazing. Down at the bottom of the ravine, we had an instant diversion - a 50 yard long slope of snow, which everyone immediately used for "body surfing" purposes. A lot of fun, if a bit chilly on the backside. More photo ops, of course. After 15 minutes of this, several other crews arrived and joined in, and we gathered ourselves once again and headed on down through Copper Park. As we approached the actual campsite, we were treated to one of the most unusual natural displays I've ever seen on the Ranch - tens of thousands of medium-sized gray moths flying everywhere around the trail. Looked like gray snow. Oddly, they weren't interested in landing on us, but you could snatch them out of mid-air easily enough. Maybe a quarter mile of this, and done as suddenly as it started. Hope the pictures of this turn out! Passed the campsite and into the meadow - everyone turned for a look at the mountain one more time - it just looms over Copper Park. Continued down to the Aztec Mine, with a very brief resurgence of the great moth hatch just after we re-entered the trees. Got to the mine at 12:25, but no-one was present (lunchtime?) Relaxed and waited `til 1:40, and finally gave up when it started to rain. Guys chose not to bother with French Henry, and we instead walked directly to Baldytown over the Aztec Ridge road. The rain turned into a pretty good thunderstorm, and we had everyone space out to 25 foot intervals for safety. Nothing closer than 5 seconds (i.e., 1 mile), but it never hurts to be prudent with lightning when you're on an exposed road. Heavy rain the last 10 minutes to Baldytown, then sudden clearing just as we arrived. Some people just live right. I gave $ 20.00 worth of crew money to the guys to buy some munchies at the Trading Post; most of the guys supplemented this with some of their own money, so it was a total oink. We started grabbing showers, but things were crowded and slow. Did some clothes, too. Got our food pickup, and did another total swap-box cleanup and triage of our food packages (again saving a lot of weight and improving the quality of our meals pretty significantly.) The commissary staff guy was suitably grateful, and gave us some extra goodies; Cookies, Doritoes and a whole box of Gatorade mix. By then it was hot and sunny again, and we started packing the food away into the backpacks (way too tight - we'll need 3 backpacks next year!!!) Place getting to be a total zoo by this point. Finally polished off our showers, getting our last few Scouts into the Adult side during a temporary lull. Left at 4:30 to retrace our path back to Miranda, with Rick's pack weighing 49 pounds, Brad's at 41. Ouch! Quick 1 hour hike back to camp - downhill helps, of course - with the weather starting to threaten a little bit again. No rain materialized, however, so I guess the afternoon "boomers" were it for the day. At camp, we re-organized all the food again, and Brad, Rick and I again prepared a mega-meal for everyone. After devouring everything in sight, we kicked back for the night. I again headed up to the staff cabin, and enjoyed a long chat with Spencer and the rest of the staff, while they cleaned the blackpowder rifles. Got some nice comments on our conservation work of the previous day - apparently, several members of the staff went over to check it out during their bear-safety checks. Spencer had to bolt for awhile with a couple of wranglers to help round up a crew which had somehow split into three different groups - all of them lost (1 Scout came into Miranda, alone, which tipped off the problem.) Idiots. As usual, I continued briefing newly arrived Advisors left and right concerning Baldy and caterpillaring, etc. Spencer finally returned, having finally rounded up the various bits and pieces of the splintered/lost crew; no harm, no foul. A couple of deer came out into the upper meadow as dusk fell, and I called it a night. Back at camp, the guys were just getting the bearbags up, and we racked out at 9:15. Cooler tonight than last night, with a light breeze, broken clouds and hazy stars overhead. Despite the mess at the Aztec Mine, a great day.

Friday, 7/11 - Up at 5:30, 42 degrees, clear. Gave everyone a break on reveille since today's conservation site up off Baldy Skyline trail doesn't open `til 9:00. Leisurely camp breakdown, but we still finished by 6:45, and headed on over for water. The Illinois crew passed by as we will filling our canteens, moving fast and looking pleased to have beat us out of camp for once (having gotten up at 4:30 to do so!) Unfortunately, however, they immediately went the wrong way, heading off to Maxwell instead of down past the burro corrals; we were too far away to call them back by the time I realized what they were doing. Well, maybe they wanted to check Maxwell camp out, who knows. We quickly arrived at the jeep road trailhead, stripped down to shorts and T-Shirts, and headed on up; still in shadow, Thank God. One of the most unpleasant hikes of all Philmont - a seemingly endless and often extremely steep uphill. Well, we did a continuous caterpillar all the way to the top, no breaks, which is the best possible way to get this nasty piece of [expletive deleted!] out of the way. At least we got some nice morning views behind us. Breakfast at the "five forks" intersection once again, with multiple crews coming in from Ewell's Park, Pueblano and Pueblano Ruins. One of the crews from Pueblano Ruins was doing Baldy that day, which is pretty tough; they said they were on Trek 18, I'll have to check it out. Illinois finally arrived, stretched out over a half mile again. Their lead Scouts were aggravated beyond belief to f