Philmont Part 1 - Forming

For the past 80 years, the pinnacle of scouting for many youths has been a backpacking trek at the Philmont Scout Ranch.  In 1922, businessman Waite Phillips, younger brother of the founders of the Phillips Petroleum Company, purchased a large ranch in Cimmaron, New Mexico.  He and his wife completed a summer house there called the Villa Philmonte in 1927.  From 1938 to 1941, Phillips donated 127,000 acres of his New Mexico land to the Boy Scouts of America.  Although it was initially named the Philturn Rocky Mountain Scout Camp, the endowment was eventually changed to the Philmont Scout Ranch.

The typical experience at Philmont has been a 12 day backpacking trek in the backcountry of New Mexico.  Recently, 7-day treks have also been added, but are 10 times less-common than the longer ones.  In addition to backpacking, there are several programs offered at each camp site.  These activities include climbing, shooting sports, and evening music shows.  In addition, some of the programs are centered around the history of the land including tours of old ranches, mines, and railroading camps.

The Boy's troop has a three-year rotation for high adventure bases--Seabase, Philmont, and Northern Tier.  Their Seabase adventure was planned for 2019.  Philmont would be 2020.  However, those plans were dashed by the Ute Park Fire that occurred in the summer of 2018.  Facing drought-like conditions, the Philmont Ranch suffered a devastating fire that burned over 36,000 acres throughout May and June.  Cimmaron, the neighboring town adjacent to the Philmont base camp, faced a mandatory evacuation.  For the first time in its history, Philmont was closed for the summer.

Since the backpacking treks for all of the 2018 crews were cancelled, the BSA decided to give all of those troops priority for the 2020 lottery.  When the drawings were announced in December 2018, The Boy's troop found themselves on the wait list--more than 200 slots down.  Although his troop would try again for 2021, there was no guarantee that The Boy would still be available or interested in going to Philmont that far in the future.

As luck would have it, a nearby Boy Scout troop had two crews scheduled to go to Philmont in July 2019.  Their ranks were decimated by scouts and adult advisers who had initially committed, then dropped out.  They had plenty of empty spots open.  Additionally, The Boy knew all of the scouts who were in that crew.  Many of them were classmates from his school as well as former members of his Cub Scout pack from years ago.  Their lead adviser was Frodo, a lawyer whom I had befriended years ago while sitting around a campfire during our boys' Cub Scout years.  I contacted him, and he welcomed The Boy and I onto their crew.  Additionally, another scout from The Boy's troop, Inferno (aka Nikola) would be going.  Unfortunately, his father Big Blue would not be joining us, which was a shame since he had significant outdoor experience.  The Boy and I also made arrangements to piggy-back on their team for Norther Tier in 2021.

After a few weeks, there were already several red flags.  First, Frodo didn't seem very enthusiastic about being the lead adviser.  Another adult had initially held that position but had dropped out.  Since Frodo had the most backpacking experience among all the other adults in their troop, he was tasked with organizing their Philmont trek.  Unfortunately, organizational skills were not his forte.  Also, his personal backpacking experience and philosophy were not aligned congruently with those of the BSA.  He was more interested in just having a leisurely experience rather than having the boys work towards character and leadership development.

Also, the other troop as a whole had minimal backpacking experience.  Most of the boys had only been on one short backpacking trek before as they were a predominately car-camping troop.  They had no adults or scouts who had gone to Philmont before who they could lean on for advice.  It was disturbing to see that my limited backpacking trips would make me one of the more outdoor-experienced adults on the trek.

In the spring of 2019, we were tasked with choosing our trek number.  These range between 1 to 40, with the higher numbers being progressively harder with more miles covered.  Philmont has commonly been divided into north, central, and south regions.  Before 2018, some treks traversed from the north all the way to the south area.  After the Ute Park Fire, the entire central area of the ranch was deemed inaccessible.  Treks would have to choose between hiking either in the north or the south, but not both.  We decided that we would focus on the north area as it would give us the chance to climb the iconic Mount Baldy, the tallest peak on Philmont-owned property at 12,441 feet.

I had the luxury of speaking with many former Philmont attendees in my troop to find out which camp programs they liked or disliked.  The best advice was to do activities that you really can't do at home such as blacksmithing, spar pole climbing, etc.  I was a bit dismayed when Frodo relayed to me that he didn't think that any of the programs were important.  He just wanted the crew to take their time in camp and on hikes to enjoy the scenery.  I was baffled as those activities are an integral component of Philmont's identity.  Furthermore, despite the objections of the other adult advisers, Frodo wanted to do a trek that included a burro for a day.  We compromised and added a burro trek as one of our last of 8 possible choices.  Finally, the vast majority of our scouts were barely at the minimum age to attend Philmont--14.  The oldest had just turned 16.  With our younger crew, we knew that a less strenuous hike would be apropos.

On selection day, we received our 6th preference--Trek 21.  It indeed traverses the north country, has a day to summit Mt. Baldy, is rugged at an estimated 67 miles, and has several interesting activities.  Unfortunately, it also includes a burro.

Our crew roster was solidified.  There was The Boy and I, as well as Frodo and his son Piano Man.  Our other physician would be Cranberry who brought along his swinging-single brother Starfish and his son Mini-Bear.  The Boy's classmate The Guia and his father Flower Child would also attend.  The only pair that I was unfamiliar with was Wetwipe and his son Crack.  Rounding out our crew were scouts Dexter, The Sump, and Inferno, whose fathers were smart enough not to join in our escapade.

During our preparation for Seabase, there were ample communication and discussion about the logistics of travelling to the site and what equipment would be needed.  We even had two mandatory face-to-face meetings with parents and scouts which helped make sure everybody was on the same page.  The Philmont trip was the opposite.  The lead adviser sent very little information to folks with equipment recommendations nor updates on travel logistics.  There was only one meeting for parents but it was early in the process before anything was decided.  The Wife went but ascertained very little.

With my Type A personality, I really wanted to grab the reins and take over and speed up the preparation.  However, as an outsider and guest of their troop, I knew that this would be overstepping my boundaries.  Nevertheless, I did relay to Frodo some of my frustrations and offered to assist him.  However, those entreaties were ignored.

Big Blue and I even had earnest discussions whether we should pull our boys from going on the expedition due to potential safety issues from lack of preparation.  In the end, we both decided that quitting would create a terrible example for our children.  We would try and work through some of these problems.

I turned to the only recourse I had left which was to send out mass emails with my own recommendations on how we should proceed.  Since most of the crew members were novice backpackers, they would need to purchase a lot of new equipment.  I did my best researching as many affordable, light weight options for backpacking and conveyed my results to the others.  Whether those were even read is uncertain.  On our end, our troop members focused on keeping our packs light.

There is a wealth of information on internet blogs and forums giving in-depth and useful advice to help crews prepare for Philmont.  The BSA even provides a handbook that clearly gives basic recommendations on things to do before the trek.  Inexplicably, our crew didn't even meet the minimal standards of preparation.

I had insisted to Frodo that we organize at least two shake down hikes (recommended by Philmont) prior to our trek.  The hikes would allow people to get properly adjusted for their new packs, become familiar with their tents and equipment, and understand how to hike and camp as a team, not individuals.  For whatever reasons, months went by without any movement on that end.

While I waited for the other troop to organize the shake down hikes, The Boy and I tweaked our gear.  We attended his troop's annual backpacking trip in April 2019 at Petit Jean State Park in Arkansas.  Using all the equipment that we would be bringing to Philmont, we hiked 9 miles the first day and another 5 the following day without any problems.  Equipment-wise, we were dialed in.

For me especially, having the lightest equipment possible would be paramount.  Hiking at sea level wouldn't be a problem.  However, our trek would be at an altitude range of 7,000 to 12,400 feet.  With my past problems with altitude sickness, I knew that I needed all the help that I could get.  The Boy limited his base weight (gear without water or food) to about 14 lbs.  Mine was heavier at 19 lbs as I elected to bring a camera, my iPhone, spare batteries, a battery bank, etc.

Finally, in May 2019--just two months before our Philmont trek would begin, Frodo announced the date of our crew's first shake down hike.  It would be the weekend before final exams for the majority of the scouts.  The Wife was pissed, and The Boy was not happy.  Regardless, we made plans to attend.  Having a chance for the crew to gel as a team was important.  Unfortunately, half of the crew felt that their final exams were understandably more important, and they decided not to go.  It would just be me, The Boy, Frodo, Piano Man, Dexter, Cranberry, and Mini-bear.

Just a mere three days before the actual shake down hike, Frodo called me to see if I had any recommendations on where we should hike.  I was flabbergasted that he hadn't made that decision weeks ago.  Many state parks have campsites that require reservations that are booked far in advance.  Our best option would be Sipsey Wilderness in northern Alabama as no advanced reservations would be needed.

On the weekend drive down to Sipsey, Frodo pulled out a map of the area to try and figure out the route which we should hike.  He was literally waiting until the very last moment to plan this excursion.  At this point, I was in disbelief that he was the adult in charge of planning our Philmont trek.

The shake down hike did reveal some important issues that needed to be addressed. Most of the scouts needed significant adjustments to their packs to fit comfortably.  Dexter needed a new backpack altogether as his 55 liter one was too small to fit all of his gear for Philmont.  Frodo was painfully slow packing up his gear--a problem that would continue to haunt us on our trek.  It was also discouraging to see that many of the scouts still required their father's assistance to assemble their tents and pack up their equipment.  But most importantly, the Sipsey trip lit a fire in Cranberry.  Although his outdoor experience was limited, he was sage enough to realize how ill-prepared our crew was for our upcoming trek.  For the next two months he became much more involved in the preparation for Philmont.

As school ended and summer rolled around, it was evident that there would be no second shake down hike.  The scouts would have no chance to decide on a crew leader.  Our group would be an assembly of individuals of varying abilities, not a cohesive crew.

Two days before we were to depart for Philmont, I decided to call Southwest Airlines to make sure our group reservations were all in order.  While they had our group reservations, they did not have any of our names.  They claimed to have not received that information from Frodo.  They needed it within the next four hours.  I was not happy to hear that news.  I paused on seeing my patients, and sent that information to them.  Everything was thankfully now in order.


Thursday, July 18, 2019


We had planned to meet at the airport at 8:00 AM to catch our 10 AM flight.  Most of the crew was there by 8:15.  Flower Child must not have gotten the memo as he really stood out wearing his full Boy Scout uniform.  Oddly enough his son was wearing normal street clothes.  We waited and waited, until finally at 8:45 Frodo and Piano Man arrived nonchalantly.  At this hour, the security line was already bustling.  By the time everybody cleared through and made it to the gate, our plane was already boarding.  We had made it with no time to spare.  While everything ended up working out okay, I was pretty certain that we would have been delayed and missed our flight if I had not taken care of our group reservation a few days prior.

We landed in Denver and went to Avis to pick up our vehicle.  We would have a four hour drive south to get to the Philmont area.  We had reserved a 15 person van.  Wetwipe had also rented a SUV as he, Crack, and Flower Child would be departing a few days before the trek ended.  Avis didn't have any available vans, so they offered us a Suburban and a Tahoe at the same rate.  That actually worked out better as we would end up having more seats and more room for our gear.

We stopped off at Bad Daddy's Burger Bar for lunch.  We all over-gorged on lunch with me consuming over 2,000 calories with a "bacon-cheeseburger on steroids" and a "BD snikered milkshake."  After a brief stop at REI for fuel for our canister stoves, we drove until we reached the town of Raton, New Mexico.  Although nobody was really hungry, we knew that we would need to get dinner as there were no other options nearby to where we would be staying.  We picked a barbecue and beer joint called the Historic Icehouse Restaurant.  While most of us sensibly ordered heaping plates of smoked animal flesh, Cranberry chose their girlie "nuthouse cranberry salad."  We were all embarrassed for him.

The restaurant is housed in an old refrigeration warehouse.

Flower Child enjoys a cold one while still on the job.

While we waited for our food, the scouts finally had a chance to choose their leader.  Crack would serve as the crew leader, Dexter the Chaplain's Aide, and The Guia, the messiest scout in our group, would naturally be the Wilderness Guia.  Whether they actually knew what their roles entailed was probably unlikely.  I did inform Crack that one of his most important tasks were to make a duty roster for the trek.  By the end of the meal we were all stuffed and very much fatter, except for Cranberry who maintained his svelte figure.

Fifteen minutes south of Raton, we arrived at our destination for the night, the NRA Whittington Center (NRAWC).  This sprawling complex contains target and competition ranges for an assortment of firearms.  While it would have been cool to do some marksman training there, we were merely there to stay in their cabins--one for the adults and one for the scouts.  We wanted a more civilized yet inexpensive option than Philmont's tent city 35 miles away.

Of the housing options at the NRAWC, the log cabins were the most economic option...but at a price.

Unfortunately, the NRA cabins weren't much of a step up from a tent.  They were just a crappy shack with some bunk beds and a bathroom.  The sliding door to the adult's bathroom completely came off the rails.  The windows were so small that they barely let in enough air.  We had to prop them open by jamming a clay target in between the pane and the screen.  Without any HVAC, the cabin was stifling.  The scouts' cabin was even worse.  When they opened the door, it stunk so badly as if something dead had been festering in there for weeks.  The staff must have known of the problem as the room had a portable fan to help with the odor.

Only two tiny windows provided ventilation for this cabin.

No towels or toiletries are provided. 
Guest are required to bring their own.

The only positive aspect of the log cabin was the firehose that doubled as a shower head.

Frodo was so nonplussed by the accommodations that he grabbed a mattress and slept outside.

Friday, July 19, 2019


After a poor night's sleep, we all agreed that a Motel Six would have been a better option.  As we drove back to the front gate to checkout, I noticed several pronghorns languidly grazing on grass at one of the gun ranges.  I asked one of the workers about them and he relayed that these wild animals are so complacent at the center that they would plop down in front of the targets.  Who knew that one of the safest places for antelopes in New Mexico was at a gun range frequented by hunters.

The small museum and gift shop at the NRAWC contains a couple of interesting weapons of destruction.

Since there were no dining options at the NRAWC, we drove back to Raton for breakfast.  Instead of a quick bite at McDonald's, Frodo insisted on a proper sit-down meal.  We headed to Pappa's Sweet Shop Restaurant.  Opened in 1923, it was originally a candy and ice cream store.  Over the next 90 years, it has moved and transformed itself into a full service restaurant.

Breakfast enchilada

The food was good and our waitress was very attentive in refilling our coffee mugs endlessly.  Unfortunately, accommodating our fourteen person group was taxing for their kitchen.  Breakfast took us about an hour and a half.  By the time that we got back on the road and drove the 50 miles to reach the Philmont Scout Ranch, it was already past noon.

After checking in, we were introduced to our Ranger, Neidermeyer.  He had just finished his first year of college and was in his first year as a ranger at Philmont.  He led us to our lodgings in tent city where we dropped off our gear.

Several youth and adult restrooms and showers were a short walking distance from the tents.

The Guia fails to understand the purpose of the free samples of Tenacious Tape Gear Patches.

Next, we got our group photograph taken with the Tooth of Time in the distance.  This iconic feature was important for travelers of yore as it signaled that they were a week's journey to Santa Fe.

For the next few hours, it was a whirlwind of tasks and meetings--registrar, medical, and logistics.  While Frodo and Crack met with the logistics people, the rest of our crew was "entertained" by an hour-long spiel from Neidermeyer regarding first aid, animal precautions, the very comfortable "lightning position," and the first of many pitches that we would hear for the next two weeks regarding additional programs offered by Philmont.

He also went over the four stages that a crew will usually encounter: 1) Forming - the initial exciting phase as the trek is planned.  2) Storming - the fighting and bickering that occurs once the crew is exposed to the stress of the trek.  3) Norming - the period where everybody puts aside their differences and tries to make things work.  4) Performing - when the crew has finally figured everything out and is working like a well-oiled machine.

We were all dying with laughter (inside) when we heard the joke about how the 
"Ranch Hands" program consists of dipping your appendages in salad dressing.

Unfortunately, these meetings sucked up the entire afternoon and we didn't have enough time to go to outfitting services to receive our Philmont-provided crew gear nor our food.  We would have to wait until the next morning to get those.  That was unfortunate, as it would have been nice to allow the scouts plenty of time to figure out how to divvy those up.  A couple of us were able to stop by the Tooth of Time Trading Post to buy some extra sectional maps and a locking carabiner for hanging our bear bags.  The Boy, Inferno, and I also purchased Philmont leather belts as souvenirs.  We would bring them with us on our trek as we would have the option to get them branded with unique symbols.

Next we had to sit through a lengthy advisers meeting.  I promptly slept through it all.  I'm sure my fellow adults took good notes.  Finally, it was time for dinner.  We lined up outside the dining hall until our crew number was called.  Inside, we received a plate of what I could only guess was chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and carrots.  I found it curious that they could label that tasteless slop as food.  After our decadent meals in the last 24 hours, it was hard to down that so-called food.

The Philmont rangers devise an odd method of announcing meal time.

The dining hall was like an elementary school cafeteria, sans the diarrhea-inducing sloppy joes.

After dinner, our entire crew elected to attend worshiping services.  Several religions are represented at Philmont, depending on whether a priest, pastor, rabbi, iman, guru, etc. was donating their time off to come and lead services.  On that day, there were programs for Protestants, Catholics, LDS members, Muslims, and Jews.  The Wickens were noticeably snubbed.  Wetwipe and Crack went off to the Catholic services, no doubt to purchase some last-minute indulgences.  The rest of us attended the Protestant services.  There was much hymn-singing, much glorifying the crew leader, chaplain's aide, and Wilderness Guia, and lots of standing up and sitting back down in rapid succession.  It reminded me why I don't regularly go to church.

Unlike other faiths, the Protestants had a deer in their congregation.

He too took part in our hymn-singing.

After completion of the services, we had yet another event to make--the opening campfire.  We were led to a nearby field containing an outdoor amphitheater.  Staff members role-played notable figures in the history of the area.  These included Kit Carson, the Maxwell and Chase families, the miner Charles Cypher, and the lumber and railroad man, Theodore Schomburg.  They interspersed their performances with several folk and country songs.  Like all things BSA, there were plenty of goofy and dorky gags meant to entertain sophomoric schoolboys.  While their acting would not be classified as Academy-award wining performances, it was effective enough to provide a cursory background of the obscure history of this rural area of New Mexico.

In the mid 19th century, the area around Philmont was part of Mexico.  Two adventurers, Carlos Beaubien and Guadalupe Miranda, were granted 1.7 million acres of territory on the provision that they develop the land.  A few years later, famed scout Kit Carson and his partner and adventurer Lucien Maxwell migrated to this area.  Maxwell married Beaubien's daughter and inherited and purchased those land rights.  By then, it had become part of the United States after the Mexican-American War.  Now known as the Maxwell Land Grant, this large tract of land would become one of the largest private holdings in U.S. history.  Over time, this land would be sold to various ranchers, prospectors, and mining and timber companies.

The opening campfire taught us never to utter the words "mountain" nor "Maxwell land grant."

After the opening campfire was completed, we headed back to tent city.  Philmont rules specify that everybody be in their tents by 10:30 PM.  For the most part, our tired crew was able to unpack, shower, and prepare for the next day by that timetable.  The exception was my tent mate Frodo who disappeared for much of the night, only to return by that deadline.  Fortunately, I had earplugs to drown out any noise that he made getting unpacked.