I actually had a better sleep in tent city than at the NRAWC. As is custom on BSA campouts, we had an early wake-up time as we needed to meet at the dining hall at 6:15 for breakfast. Our trek itinerary had us scheduled for a late bus pickup at 1 PM. Therefore, we were one of the last crews allowed inside the dining hall. It wasn't as if the food was something we were dying for--sausage links, biscuits and gravy, and all the canned fruit cocktail you could ingest, without the maraschino cherries.
After that meal, Frodo decided that it would be nice to have one last meal in town before we would hit the trail. Neidermeyer who had been eating awful basecamp and trail food for the past six weeks had no argument with that plan. However, we still had a ton of work to do before we could even consider that luxury. We first needed to vacate our tents by 8:30, a very reasonable time frame. Most people just dumped the gear that they wouldn't be hiking with into their travel bags and stored them in our rental cars. However, some others were taking an inordinate amount of time, methodically packing their excessive travel accessories. As a simple, 15 minute process dragged on to 30, then 45 minutes, Neidermeyer kept urging our crew to pick up the pace. He knew that at this speed, not only would we be unable to make it to town for lunch, but we would also not be finished with preparations for the upcoming trek.
After sitting around for 20 minutes with several scouts just waiting for others to finish, I echoed Neidermeyer's sentiments and urged the slower scouts and adults to work faster. At that point, Frodo admonished me and stated that my comments weren't helpful. Months of frustration at his lackadaisical attitude to our crew's preparation and poor time management finally boiled over. We had a brief but vehement argument as The Boy pulled me away to cool down. Sadly, it would only be the first of more arguments to come.
We finally finished moving out and stopped by outfitting services. We signed out our shared crew gear--two 8-quart pots, eight bear bags with two bear ropes, cooking and cleaning utensils, and most importantly toilet paper. I also picked up a small pot so that the adults could boil water for morning coffee. Four members also picked up two Philmont tents as they did not have their own. Overall, those tents were pretty good for being free. We then received our food for the next three days. The total amount for all of us filled a large trash can. The information that I had been told regarding the bulkiness of Philmont food was true. We would have to be very ingenuous with our packing to get everything to fit.
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| An average meal that is shared between two participants. |
Neidermeyer herded everybody together for our last-minute equipment checks. We all gathered around and dumped out all of our gear. As he called out each essential item, we were to show him that we had it. In theory this was a good idea. In practice, it really didn't matter as a third of our crew wasn't even paying attention. Nevertheless, we were confident that everybody had all their necessary equipment.
Although we were running a bit behind schedule, we decided to go to town for lunch anyway. We drove to a local diner called the Cree-Mee Drive In which serves an assortment of milkshakes and greasy burgers and pizzas. It would be nice to start out our trek with a little diarrhea.
We arrived back in base camp with only a few minutes before our bus pickup time. We had to rush and get everything finally packed up and fill our water bottles. Since we would be going to a dry camp (no water source) for the first day, we had planned for each person to carry at least 5 to 6 liters of water. In the rush and confusion, it later became evident that everybody did not get that message. Furthermore, our crew leader still had not found the time to formulate a duty roster. The scouts would not have an idea what their job would be when they reached the campsite.
Our bus pulled up and we started loading our packs inside. Flower Child happened to run into one of the Philmont Conservation Corp leaders that he knew. It was Mr. Brownie, an art and theater teacher at The Boy's school. None of the scouts were old enough to have taken his classes, but he had been aware that some future students would be there that week. We had a brief conversation as we explained to him which trek we would be going on, and he wished us good luck.
Our bus drove about 20 minutes and took us to the start of our trek--the Chase Trailhead. A venture crew from Minnesota consisting of older males and females also shared the ride with us. After unloading our gear, we visited the first program that was on our itinerary--a tour of the Chase Ranch.
In 1867, Manly and Theresa Chase moved to the Ponil Creek area. They made an agreement with Lucien Maxwell that they would receive several acres of land for every wild horse that they could capture and tame. They were so proficient in performing this task, that they were eventually able to build an 11,000 acre ranch. Over time, they raised sheep and cattle and even planted an award-winning apple orchard in the middle of the desert. Theresa Chase was particularly known as a tough homesteader. Legend has it that she was once attacked by a mountain lion. The small woman fought and strangled the cougar to death while still wearing her corset. She was able to drag the predator's body back to the farm and tidy up her house before passing out from blood loss.
The Chase Ranch continued to be family-owned and operated until their great-granddaughter passed away in 2012 without any descendants. Prior to her death, she had created the Chase Ranch Foundation to preserve this historic abode. In 2013, the foundation and the BSA signed an agreement to keep the ranch running.
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| The dining room table could extend allowing the Chase family to entertain as many as thirty people in this small room. |
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| In order to accommodate that many guests, the Chases had to stockpile plenty of china... |
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| ...and silverware. |
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| In the earlier days, the Chases would gather in the small parlor for family time. |
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| A pedal-driven player piano provided musical entertainment |
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| Lucian Maxwell's favorite chair |
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| Old photographs of the Maxwell family. |
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| Ranching was a way of life for the Chase family. Two of their last descendants were inducted into the Cowgirl Hall of Fame. |
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| The Philmont museum staff reside at the Chase ranch and continue to care for the livestock. |
After our visit to the ranch, our crew was anxious to begin our 4.5 mile hike. However, Neidermeyer hit the brakes, and went over some last minute items. He again reinforced the importance of the yoga pose known as the "lightning position." And he gave the scouts a crash course in compass and topographical map navigation. Technically, all of the scouts were at a rank where they should know this skill, but several seemed a bit clueless.
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| Cartography Pro Tip #1: Make sure that the map is not upside down. |
The Boy volunteered to be our first Naviguesser. Dexter elected to take the lead as the pace setter. The adult advisers followed behind the scouts, with Niedermeyer taking up the rear. Before we even went 100 feet, problems were already evident. Wetwipe surprisingly found that his pack was inordinately heavy, weighing at least 50-60 pounds. While the weight had not been too bad with just his gear, adding his food and six Nalgene bottles full of water made it obvious that he was overloaded. Unfortunately, it was too late to drop any gear.
We initially walked past farmland. Rows of plants with tiny, growing watermelons lay at our feet. We began making several stops as boys had to keep adjusting their backpacks--an issue that should have been ironed out on shake down hikes. The scouts soon discovered that some Philmont trails are difficult to see. Twice we missed our turn because the boys didn't realize that they were at an intersection. The correct path was overgrown with weeds. Niedermeyer would only correct them after they had gone the wrong way for a few hundred yards. Overall, we were making terrible progress.
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| Niedermeyer stresses to the scouts that road signs should never be trusted. |
As we walked through Chase Canyon, the terrain became more arid with occasional cacti and phallic wild flowers interspersed among the brush. There was very little shade on our route. While there were some clouds in the sky, none of them had the courage to come between us and the sun.
Eventually, the trail started heading uphill as we climbed up the walls of the canyon.
As we finally neared our campsite at Little Twin Trail Camp, we encountered a tree with a map of the campsite. Neidermeyer explained the importance of either memorizing or taking a picture of these maps so that we don't get lost around these sprawling campsites.
Nearby was also a small, reddish building to the side of the trail. Our ranger halted our crew and asked us all to stop and take a 20 minute break. It was refreshing to remove my pack as my shirt was drenched in sweat. However, we were a bit antsy to get to our campsite as it was already 7 PM, an hour before sundown. Niedermeyer proceeded to pull all the boys into what is known at Philmont as a "red roof inn." It's a toilet. He proceeded to explain to them the importance of having regular bowel movements while on the trek. He went on and on about the rating system of how badly one had to go as well as the quality of one's poop. Obviously, this spiel was meant to reassure some shy defecaters, but it wouldn't be an issue with our crew of fecal freaks.
The part of the talk that made us all shake our heads in disbelief dealt with the fact that we were allowed to poop in the red roof inns, but not pee in them. Apparently, there is bacteria in the sewage system that breaks down feces so it doesn't stink. A person's urine will kill that beneficial bacteria, so we would have to urinate away from the area first, before taking a dump. All I could think of the whole time was that I had finally found the answer to the question posed by Jim Jefferies in This Is Me Now: "Name me a scenario where shit is welcome and wee isn't."
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| Q: How many scouts does it take to go poop? |
After the long poop talk, we finally headed towards our campsite. The area was on the edge of the canyon rim providing a picturesque view around us. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to stop and admire the view. There was plenty of work that needed to be done. Plus, ominous clouds were moving, and the wind started picking up quickly. This problem was amplified as we were on top of the ridge without any protection.
Normally, the scouts would take care of all the crew chores leaving the adult advisers with their sole task to put up their own tents. However, it was evident that our group of boys had no idea what their jobs were nor how to complete them.
The entire crew was first instructed to put all of their "smellables" that they wouldn't need later that night into a pile by the fire pit. These included obvious items that would attract bears such as food for the next several days and water bottles that had been tainted with drink mix. But we were also ordered to include oddities such as duct tape, spare camera batteries, and even first aid kits. Either the bears in Philmont are starving or they had a lousy taste in food. Once all of that gear was packed away into the bear bags, Niedermeyer grabbed several of the scouts and showed them how to properly hang them up.
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| Bear bags can only be hung up on designated cables that had been set up at each campsite. |
While several of the adults pulled out their camp chairs and relaxed, Cranberry showed The Sump how to use the crew's backpacking stove. Philmont uses a 2 pot method to promote the patrol method of cooking. First, water is brought to a boil. Any cooking and eating utensils are then dipped in there for a few seconds to sterilize them. All the food that needs to be re-hydrated is then dumped into a second pot. The correct amount of hot water is then poured into the food pot. After waiting the appropriate amount of time, the food is spooned out to each person accordingly. Any leftover hot water is left for cleaning. While this is not the most efficient way to cook, it is supposed to encourage crews to practice the patrol method.
In the meantime, The Boy and I began setting up the dining fly. This 12 x 10 tarp is mainly used as a contingency in case of rain. The cooks can prepare meals under it. It can also keep people or important items (namely toilet paper) dry during a rainstorm. Most of the time, it just takes up space. Our crew had a brand new tarp that had never been used before. We had tried rigging it up while in basecamp but never had time to complete the task. Instead of having it set up in just a few minutes, we had to waste time securing all of the guy lines to the grommets and create a continuous ridge line. The dining fly looked stupid with that setup but it served its purpose as we ended up not receiving any precipitation that night.
By this time, the sun had already set. It was time to start putting up our tents. I was already feeling dizzy with a pounding headache. I had already imbibed about 3 liters of water that afternoon, but I had been sweating so much that I suspected that I was dehydrated. Unfortunately, we were at a dry camp, so I would have to stretch my remaining 3 liters of water to last me for the next 24 hours.
I began assisting Flower Child with his one-man backpacking tent. To my dismay, I realized that he had committed one of the most egregious beginner mistakes of camping. He had brought along a new tent without trying it out first. It was clear that the ground pad that he had purchased didn't match with that tent. It wasn't a big deal, and we worked around that. However, we had difficulty figuring out how to use his trekking poles to prop up the tent. He had to dig out the instructions and read them in the twilight in order for us to set it up correctly.
Seeing that The Boy and his tent mate Dexter were comfortable erecting my Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL3 tent that I loaned to them for this expedition, I proceeded to set up my single person Lanshan 2 3F UL tent that I bought for $100 from aliexpress. I was feeling so terrible and dizzy that I decided to just down another half-liter of my precious stash of water to re-hydrate.
Dinner turned out to be Stovetop Stuffing with packaged chicken chunks. We didn't realize it at the time, but it would turn out to be one of our best trail dinners during the trek. The mood over dinner was grim. Everybody was spent. The hike wasn't too bad, but everybody had their butts kicked setting up camp. It was apparent that our lack of preparation put us all in a bad situation.
We reviewed the plan for the next day. Our itinerary had us hiking 5.5 miles on fairly level terrain to reach House Canyon. There would be a water source waiting for us but no program on the agenda. Neidermeyer tried talking us into making a detour to Chase Cow in the hopes that we could be added on for some climbing and repelling. However, he couldn't guarantee that our crew would even be allowed to participate in that activity since it wasn't on our itinerary. The hike would add several more miles and more up and down hills. In the end, the scouts all voted against that diversion. It was only their first half day on the trek, and they were already on the brink of defeat.
Sunday, July 21, 2019
By the next morning I was feeling better both physically and mentally. The beautiful sunrise over Chase Canyon didn't hurt my morale. We weren't in a hurry to get started, so it was nice to just relax and enjoy the view. For breakfast, we had an eclectic mix of peppered beef jerky, a butterscotch oatmeal bar, a PB&J larabar, a box of raisins, animal crackers, and a packet of apple cider that everybody tossed.
In the light of day, I had a better chance to see how well our scouts did in following the "Philmont way."
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| All the tents were grouped together closely to deter predators from picking off separated sleepers. |
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| Our backpacks were clear of smellables and placed far enough away from our tents. |
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| Our pots were fully cleaned and placed next to the sump, a long pipe that drained excess cleaning water. |
As the crew broke camp, we took stock of everybody's remaining water supplies. To our shock, we had several members who had almost no water left! Starfish had donated most of his reserves to be used for dinner the night before. And two scouts apparently didn't get the memo about the dry camp and hiked in with less than 3 L of water. Altogether, we had 3 members with only half a liter of water a piece.
The Boy fortunately, still had 4 L of water left after only consuming 2 of them in the last day. (I would later discover that, unlike me, he is part cactus). He was able to donate half of his stash. Wetwipe, Flower Child, and I each donated half a liter. As a result when we finally set out on the trail, every crew member had about 1 to 2 L of water.
The hike didn't seem too bad at first. We had a small hill to climb and then hiked along the ridge of the canyon wall. The only problem was that there was zero shade exposing us to direct sunlight for several hours.
Eventually, we spotted a roofed structure a distance away down in the valley below. As there was nothing else in the area, we knew that this was our destination, the House Canyon Trail Camp. A couple of crew members were down to their last drops of water. The building looked like it was only a 15 minutes walk away, so I quaffed the remaining amount that I had and followed the scouts on the trail that snaked down into the valley.
The funny thing about seeing things from an elevated position is that objects are really a lot farther than they appear. That short 15 minute hike turned out to be another hour of stumbling over rocks, brush, and felled trees.
When we finally staggered into the House Canyon Trail Camp, we were hot, tired, and parched. We reached the water reservoir which contained untreated water. It would have to be purified first.
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| We initially thought that this watering trough for horses and burros was our drinking water. Nevertheless, it looked enticing as an above-ground pool. |
Instead of filling up our water bottles, we decided to press on to our campsite as another source of non-potable water was marked on the map. After wandering around for the next 15 minutes looking for the second water source, it became evident that the map was incorrect. Although the map was only 2 months old, the second water source had been converted into a red roof inn during that interim.
We finally found our proper campsite. Neidermeyer insisted on taking care of the smellables first, so we dumped those out of our packs. We sent some scouts to set up the bear bags. To their surprise, they found out that we only had four of them left. Only a day in and we had misplaced half of the bear bags already.
The rest of the scouts filled several backpacks with empty water bottles. They would have to walk a quarter of a mile back to the water source and fill up those bottles. Once they brought them back, Neidermeyer would then show us all how to purify the water using Micropur tablets. Each one of these military-grade tablets can sterilize a liter of water in half an hour's time.
While the boys got to work, the remaining adults started setting up our tents. While I was helping Starfish with his, I got a wave of dizziness and my legs buckled. I had to sit down for a good 5-10 minutes just to compose myself. I knew I was pretty dehydrated and overheated. Starfish too was feeling bad. He had run out of water a few hours before, but as an ex-Army soldier, he was able to compensate much better than I. Regardless, this was the only time during our 12 day trek that I saw him lose his cool. He ended up sitting in the shade by himself for an hour just to regain his composure.
Over the next hour, our scouts would periodically return with backpacks stuffed with full water bottles. It was taking them an unusually long time as the spigot that dispensed the water had a very slow flow. Weakened with dehydration, several adults and I sat in the shade and methodically added micropur tablets to the water. We would still have the agonizing 30 minute wait for them to purify. Even more disappointing for me was that none of my bottles had made it in the first two batches that had returned. I would have to wait an extra 20 minutes before any Smartwater bottles with my name on them appeared at our campsite. When my first bottle was finally ready, I chugged it down. It tasted so awful, like drinking Lysol spray. How could something be so refreshing but so evil at the same time!
By noon, the entire crew was re-hydrated and the campsite was set up. For lunch we had pepperoni sticks, Cajun trail mix, a berry banana buzz bar, and the infamous Sriracha peanut butter. I have spent 44 years of my life enjoying Sriracha and peanut butter--but never together. For the next week, we would find swap boxes teeming with packets of this failed abortion.
Neidermeyer had earlier proposed some side hikes, but our demoralized crew wanted nothing to do with that idea. Instead, the advisers suggested that the scouts brush up on some of their scoutcraft. Dexter, Inferno, and The Boy spent the next few hours going over important knots and lashings with their remaining crew members. Starfish also taught them some Fort Bragg-style navigational techniques. While learning these skills are important for camping in the outdoors, the session had the added effect of building camaraderie. This was the first time the scouts had a chance to just sit around and joke around with each other. Until that moment, the trip had been a whirlwind of go here, go there, do this, and do that. Everybody finally had some time to decompress. Crack was even able to prepare a duty roster for the next day. We could see our crew starting to gel as a team.
Later that afternoon, our missing bear bags had still not appeared. Our entire crew spent the next half hour turning out every backpack, searching inside all the tents, dumping out and sifting through our garbage sack, and even taking down our hung bear bags twice all in vain. We were in disbelief and frustrated that they had just disappeared.
For dinner, we were excited as Mountain House beef stroganoff was on the menu. Inferno and The Sump swore they added the right amount of water, but the end result was a pasty version of a salt lick. No added spices could make it palatable. Pretzels, Teddy grahams, and nut and chocolate trail mix rounded out our meal. Inferno redeemed himself by making us a nice fire where we all gathered around and performed "roses, buds, and thorns." This tradition, adopted by BSA high adventure crews, has participants reflect on the highlight and lowlight of the day as well as the thing that they are most hopeful for in the coming day.
As the sky darkened into night, Neidermeyer announced that he had a surprise for our crew. He reached into his personal bear bag to grab something. To a man, every person in our crew was certain that he would pull out our missing bear bags. Cranberry even admitted later that he was ready to punch our ranger if he was hiding them.
Instead, Neidermeyer pulled out a cake and chocolate frosting that he had been carrying for the last two days. Since it was his last evening with us, he was offering it to us as a parting gift. In reality, we suspected that it was a gesture of condolences as he was certain that our train wreck of a crew would all be dead within the next 48 hours without his guidance.
Monday, July 22, 2019
Our wake up time this morning was at 5 AM. We wanted to get on the trail by 6 AM as we had a longer hike of 7.5 miles in order to get to our next stop at Ponil Staff Camp. The first couple of miles would be flat or downhill, but we would then need to climb for awhile in order to traverse Hart Peak which was at an altitude of 7,975 feet. Our goal was to make it to Ponil by 11 AM in order to do our program. Neidermeyer explained to us that we were in a race against other crews. It is a first come, first serve process. Once all the available program slots are filled, then too bad.
The only issue was that this wake up time would interfere with my ritual of an early morning (usually five-o' clock) poop before anybody else was up. My little guys get stage fright, so they cannot perform well when others are around. Therefore, I had to get up even earlier that morning to do my business. It was still pitch dark outside when I exited my tent at 4:30 AM. Neidermeyer had warned us that mountain lions hunt at night, so we were supposed to take a buddy with us when we needed to relieve ourselves in the dark. There was no way I was gonna wake somebody up just so they could hear me crap.
Our campsite was a pretty good distance away from the road where the nearest red roof inn was located, so I started walking in that general direction. After about five minutes of stumbling around in the dark, it dawned on me that I really should have paid more attention to the map. There were absolutely no familiar landmarks, just one similar copse of trees after another. After another five minutes more of getting lost, it dawned on me that I really, really had to go. I was having The Shits. Finally, I found the main road but looked back and forth in both directions and still couldn't find the red roof inn. I ran one way without any luck and then ran back the other way like an idiot. I'm pretty sure that the only reason a cougar didn't pounce on me was because of concerns that my stupidity was contagious. Finally, I spotted a large, familiar shape hidden beside a large grove of trees. I would have never thought that a hole in the ground filled with human feces would be such a welcoming sight.
After doing my business, I had a much easier time making it back to our campsite. It was 5 AM and our crew was already starting to stir. Despite bickering among the scouts on who would be carrying what pieces of shared gear, our crew surprised me and was ready to get hiking by 6:20 AM. As would be the case over the next week, there would be no time for coffee for the adults.
We said our farewells to Neidermeyer who was heading back to basecamp to lead another group of poor saps to their deaths. Although our scouts gave him lots of grief and our adults rolled our eyes one too many times when he would go over the head-scratching rules of Philmont, our ranger really is a pretty good kid. Like a good scout, he was sticking to the Philmont script, regardless how absurd some of it is. I was a bit envious that at the ripe old age of 19, he had already done 3 Philmont treks as a scout, Northern Tier in the winter time with dogsleds, and would be climbing Mount Kilimanjaro later this winter.
Our hike started with a steep climb down the canyon walls until we reached a long, flat stretch of trail flanked by a road. It was great to see the scouts using some of their skills that they had learned in the past 24 hours.
We stopped at the Anasazi Trail Camp and had a breakfast consisting of half a bagel per person, honey peppered beef sticks, whole berry blast meal bar, cheez-its (for breakfast!), and Country Time lemonade mix. I also demonstrated to The Guia that our apple and cinnamon instant oatmeal could easily be downed with some water while still in the packet. For the next couple of days, he would start hoarding and eating all the oatmeal he could find from the swap boxes.
A few miles hike later, we were at the Indian Writing Staff Camp (aka Indian Scribblings as it is affectionately called). Cranberry made a beeline to the nearest red roof inn as his body finally mustered enough courage to dump his garbage at the landfill. After he finished, it was my turn as The Shits were in force.
Up to that point we were making great time. The Boy was the pacesetter and I had given him explicit instructions the night before to push the pace as hard as he could. Despite the sun having barely crept over the horizon at that point, I was already sweating buckets. At that speed, we would be in Ponil well before 11 AM. We had planned on taking only a short break just to refill our water bottles and apply sunscreen.
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| Is "white-face" racist if you are already white? |
The next thing we knew, Frodo was up on the porch digging through their swap box and in deep conversation with the staff members. Three other crews arrived after we did. One was the Minnesota venture crew that we had driven up with two days before. One of their female scouts could barely walk as she was suffering from horrible blisters on her feet from poor-fitting shoes. Nevertheless, they all refilled their water and left before we had our packs back on.
After a half an hour delay, Crack called for everybody to get their packs on. That's when Frodo told everybody that he and his son needed to hit the red roof inn. As they walked off, the remaining crew was incensed. The two had dilly-dallied for the entire break instead of taking care of more pressing needs. Now we would be delayed even longer. Frodo and I had already been in a row about his poor time management. Therefore, Cranberry pulled him aside and spoke with him privately about his ongoing time management issue.
Finally, it was time for us to make our ascent up the cliff face towards Hart peak. We hiked up a series of switchbacks, baking in the direct sunlight as once again there was zero shade. I had planned to carry only 2 liters of water as the route to Ponil was not very far on the map. However, I increased my load to 4 liters on the advice of the water-obsessed staff of Indian Writings. While it was only a difference of five pounds, it seemed like a ton more when hiking uphill. The worst part of it all was that the water tasted like demon piss. It had a sulfuric taste that I found even more distasteful than Micropur-treated water. It was borderline undrinkable.
After a small break when we reached the top of the cliff, our crew continued at its frenetic pace on a gradual incline towards Hart peak. Try as I might, I couldn't get my legs to move as fast as they had been just half an hour before. I kept lagging farther and farther behind the person in front of me. My pack felt twice as heavy and my legs felt like jelly. It's as if I had gone 15 rounds against Apollo Creed. To my chagrin, I heard myself calling for the much-maligned "packs off" stop.
I collapsed on the ground in a tremendously weakened state, sweating profusely. My head was hurting, but I couldn't tell if it was from coffee withdraw, altitude sickness, or other factors. I took some ibuprofen, and Flower Child gave me a caffeine supplement which I dissolved in water.
After 15 minutes had transpired, I was still not feeling much better. Time was ticking, and we already had delayed too long down at Indian Writings. The boys were doing so well and deserved to make it to Ponil in time for the program. I told our group that I would just slow them down. I urged Starfish to keep hiking with the scouts and double time it to the next basecamp. Wetwipe and Flower Child who were doing great would continue with them too. Frodo, who already was by far the slowest going uphill, and I would proceed at a much slower pace. Cranberry boasted that he was the only one in our group who was board-certified in high altitude medicine, so he insisted that he stay behind with us.
We said our farewells to the other group. I relayed a message to The Boy to not worry about me and keep the hard pace to get to Ponil ASAP. I was proud to see the line of boys storming off up the hill with no hesitation. After a few more minutes I donned my ten ton pack like Atlas carrying the world on his back. Cranberry grabbed a liter of water from my pack, Frodo got my PackTowl from the brain of my backpack. I poured out a liter of water on to the towel and my head to cool down. My backpack felt much lighter and I was much cooler. But somehow, I still felt drained of energy.
We proceeded to hike about 50 feet before I had to stop once again in the shade of a tree and rest.
For the next 20 minutes, we continued slowly at this pace. Finally, Cranberry said what we both knew: "You look like shit. You need to turn back."
"No way. I've been in worse spots on Kilimanjaro. We're halfway between Ponil and Indian Writings. It only makes sense to go forwards." I replied as I stood up and shuffled along. While defiant, deep down inside, I just wanted to lay down and take a nap.
After a few more minutes of struggling, Cranberry finally stopped me and got into my face and yelled, "Let's get this straight, I'm in charge here. If I say it's time for you to turn back then you WILL turn back. If you can't walk more than 100 feet then you are done!"
"Fine," I yelled back, and I got up and slowly started walking. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I made it 50 feet, then another 50 more. I finally stopped 300 feet down the trail to rest. During that break Cranberry made a call to his brother who informed him that our lead elements had made it to Hart Peak. It was already 11 AM, but they would be strolling into Ponil by noon.
Gradually, my strength started to return as I kept a slow pace as not to overexert myself. Our progress was slow but we were finally nearing the top of Hart Peak after a 45 minute ascent. We ran into the venture crew again and they were surprised to see the three of us there after the rest of our crew blew past them long ago. I explained to them that I had a bout with heat exhaustion, but was now recovering nicely.
About 30 feet to the top, Cranberry found a nice log in the shade and the three of us sat there for the next 15 minutes gazing at the valley below. At that point, I realized that the brain for my pack was strapped to Frodo's backpack. He had secretly removed it under the ruse of getting my PackTowl. He had been carrying it for the last hour. Despite our philosophical differences on the hike, we were still friends and looked after one another. While the hard pace earlier that morning had nearly killed me, I was reassured knowing that our scouts were likely in Ponil already, hopefully getting ready to do their program without us.
We finally decided to get moving and climbed the remaining 30 feet to the peak. To my horror, standing at the top was Starfish with a big grin. Behind him was the rest of the crew, all sitting around doing nothing. Starfish explained that once they reached the top and finished taking their pictures for their Instagram accounts, they decided to vote on what to do next. Piano Man and Mini-Bear were worried about their fathers who were helping me. The others wanted to stop and eat their lunch at the top. When they finished they still didn't want to leave the rest of us behind and elected to stay. My heart sank, and I felt like crying in shame. My physical weakness had ruined the experience for these boys. I yelled at Starfish that he was supposed to lead the boys down to the next camp. He shrugged his shoulders, and replied "It was their decision. Besides, if it makes you feel better, the only boy who voted to keep going was your son." Oddly enough, it did make me feel better.
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| The boys goof around at the top of Hart Peak with Mt. Baldy in the background. |
Having recovered from my heat exhaustion and feeling back to normal, I gathered all of my belongings from my friends, and our crew set off. It was much easier going forwards as the route to Ponil was now all down hill.
About half way there, we were delayed once again for about 15 minutes, this time by a scout. The Sump's feet had been hurting for the last day and he had quietly been ignoring it. His feet finally had gotten to the point where he now had blisters which were hurting too badly. We got his shoes off and I bandaged several hot spots with moleskin and then covered them with leukotape.
We pressed on again, making good time. Suddenly, the front of the line abruptly stopped and became bunched up. The other adult advisers and I hurried to the front to see what was going on. Rattlesnake was all that I heard. Apparently, The Boy was walking along the trail briskly and didn't see the reptile on the trail. He either stepped on it or hit it with his trekking poles. He heard a rustling and a rattle and had everybody halt. Despite him pointing out the rattlesnake, I had a hard time seeing it as its dusty brown color blended in perfectly with the rocks and dirt. Flower Child walked closer to see where it was, and suddenly it coiled up into a striking pose. We all took a couple of steps back and waited until it calmed down and then slithered off the trail. We gave the area a wide berth and hiked on.
As we neared Ponil, we saw four members of the Minnesota venture crew passing us back up to Hart Peak. We were perplexed as we were sure that we had left them in the dust an hour earlier. How did they get in front of us? Further down the path, two rangers greeted us and asked if we had seen somebody suffering from severe heat exhaustion that needed medical care. I told them I had a bout with it and felt fine. I hoped they weren't there for me. The hike down to Ponil was filled with mystery.
[note: At the end of our trek, we encountered the venture crew one last time. They told me that up on Hart Peak, one of their scouts suffered severe heat exhaustion bordering on heat stroke. Four of their scouts who ran track and cross country volunteered to race ahead to Ponil and get medical help. The venture crew ended up setting up their dining fly for shade and waited four hours for her to recover before proceeding on with their hike.]
We sauntered into Ponil and was on the staff porch at 1:15 PM to check our crew in.
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| Many staff camps are supposed to be set in the past. Staffers would dress the part and are supposed to role-play characters from that era. |
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| The Guia felt compelled to put on this bull mask for solidarity with his animal friends. The staffers then told him that wasn't a good idea as they had just sprayed it with toxic anti-wasp chemicals. |
Our trek program for that afternoon was supposed to be cowboy action shooting. I gazed at the board and saw that the 2:30 and 4:00 PM slots were already taken. It was disheartening to see that the 1 PM slot had gone unclaimed. Despite all of our hardships and setbacks, we had managed to miss it by only a few minutes. When I expressed disappointment about last several slots already being taken, the staff member told us to hold for a second while he slipped into the staff cabin. He returned and told us that if we hurried, they would let us go ahead with the 1 PM slot. I thanked him profusely. Our crew members dropped off their packs, grabbed a water bottle, and hiked half a mile to the shooting range. Along the way, Mr. Brownie waved to us as he passed us in his Conservation Corp pickup.
First, we were given a demonstration on gun safety and an orientation on the three firearms that we would be shooting--a 38 special revolver, a 38 special lever action rifle, and a 12 gauge double-barrel shotgun. Afterwards, we went to the range. We were all instructed to scream out our best stupid cowboy names. Truly, most of our were indeed stupid.
Two people shot at a time with the scouts going first, followed by the adult advisers. We fired 5 rounds from the revolver and five from the lever action. We were instructed to fire the first shotgun barrel at a man-sized target. Once hit, a clay target would pop out above it to which we would discharge the other barrel using a second trigger. This was too much brain power for most of our crew as many forgot to fire the second shot. Frodo was the only one to hit the clay target. Altogether it was a fun experience.
Crack and Mini-Bear had to leave early as they were responsible for cooking our food at the chuckwagon program. The rest of us headed back to the staff cabin and checked in. We were given the orientation for Ponil and assigned campsite 10. Unfortunately, we soon found out that this was too small for our group of 14 people. Several of us ended up pitching our tents sub-optimally at steep slopes and in tight spaces between large rocks. It would be the worst night of sleep that most of us would have on the trek.
We barely had enough time to set up our camp before we had to meet up at 5 PM for our chuckwagon dinner.
Our two scouts had helped prepare a meal of beef stew, biscuits, and cobbler in dutch ovens. Some of the scouts were designated to serve the rest of the crew. Even though it was slightly burned, the beef stew was great, especially after having had to eat re-hydrated food for the last two days. When it was time to get our biscuits, The Sump came back empty-handed. Apparently, crews were supposed to share a dutch oven of biscuits with their sister crew. Somebody didn't get the message so ours were left empty-handed, making us not so happy. Starfish even mused quizzically, "Of all of our scouts, I would have bet that The Sump would have fought hardest for our food." Our disappointment was soon forgotten when the peach cobbler came out. It too was delicious.
Some of the things that I was looking forward to most in Ponil were hot showers and a chance to do our laundry. After dinner, most of us made a beeline over to those facilities. They had a sink with a washing board to help scrub all the Philmont dirt out of clothes. Unfortunately, the hot water heater was broken so we were all relegated to taking icy cold showers. The most anybody could stand in there was a minute before hypothermia would set in.
Once The Boy and I finished showering and washing all of our clothes, we realized that we had no dry clothes to wear. I ended up going commando, wearing a wet pair of shorts and a rain coat for my shirt. I figured that all of our clothes would dry overnight in the arid climate.
Later that night, several of us attended the evening program at the cantina. The venue was too small for all the crews, so it was quite crowded. Most of us adults ended up standing during the show. The Ponil staff entertained us with some skits and renditions of country and folk songs by John Denver, Charlie Daniels, The Avett Brothers, etc. Kudos to the flute player who played his instrument with his nostrils.
For me, the real star of the show was the root beer served in the cantina. Each cup was a dollar with 50 cent refills. It was a real pick-me up especially since I was still feeling tired and dehydrated from our hike earlier in the day.
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
As I sat up in my tent the next morning, I was drenched by a deluge of water pouring down all around me. No, it wasn't raining in my tent. But there had been thunderstorms all night long. My rainfly was saturated with water. I had inadvertently knocked a bunch of it through the mesh netting of my tent when my head hit the low ceiling. As I looked around at the rest of our campsite, it looked like everybody else's tents were also drenched. Luckily, we didn't have to pack away our wet tents right away and hit the trail. We had a three-hour conservation project scheduled that morning at 7:30.
I soon discovered that all the clothes that I had set out to dry the night before was soaking wet. The notion of hiking, let alone doing manual labor, without a dry pair of socks or underwear was unthinkable.
The Boy and I downed a quick breakfast of teriyaki beef jerky, a cranberry pomegranate bar, fig newtons, and a box of assorted dried fruit. We took a few bites of the French vanilla granola and then tossed the rest.
Frodo led the scouts to the conservation project. The remaining adults and I gathered several empty backpacks and hiked over to the commissary to get our first food resupply. The process took quite awhile, mainly because we had failed to bring our crew leader copy of our itinerary which is needed to obtain the supplies. While the others went off to help out at the conservation project, Starfish and I took our sweet time tying up some loose ends at the general store.
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| Like a southern gentleman, Starfish swept the general store floors to help the older proprietor. |
On our way back to the campsite, we ran into our crew performing the conservation project. They were hauling wheelbarrows full of dirt to build a rock wall. They were also blazing a new trail from Ponil to nowhere in particular.
Our crew looked like they had everything under control, so Starfish and I decided to take care of our campsite. We took down all of the tent rainflys and laid them out to dry in the hot sun. By then Cranberry, Wetwipe, and Flower Child had managed to make a run from the conservation project and arrived back in camp. They weren't thrilled with the idea of swinging a pickax on their vacation. Together, we finished taking down and drying everybody's tents. When our scouts finally completed their project, they were able to pack up the campsite much quicker.
After a lunch of Club crackers with cheese wedges, beef and cheese Combos, energy chews, and Corn Nuts, we headed down to the staff cabin to get some of our gear branded. There are two unique brands that can be found in Ponil--the Chase Ranch "heart" brand and a large "P" that was used when Ponil was the main Philmont base camp. Several of us got our leather Philmont belts branded. I got the Philmont brand on my Tilley hat. I don't know how great of an idea that was as it flamed up momentarily.
Afterwards, we headed over to the corral to pick up our burro. We sat through a lengthy tutorial on how to equip the donkey's bridle and pack. We learned that the animal could carry up to 50 lbs of our equipment, but no water, fuel, or sharp items.
We had the option of taking two burros as we were originally two separate crews. The adults were a little wary of having two animals because it would double the chances that Dexter would kill one of them. Up to this point on the hike, he had gone out of his way to destroy anthills and chase mini-bears like squirrels and chipmunks. With his sharp mind and strong work ethic, we were pretty certain that he would eventually grow up to be either a billionaire or a psychopath. "Don't worry," he assured the other advisers and I as he raised up of his hand to form the Boy Scout sign, "I don't like to kill anything that's larger than three of my fingers."
We agreed to take two burros. However, the first one went nuts and bolted even in the presence of the trainer. We weren't going to waste our time with that one, and the trainer took him away. Our second burro was much more docile. It didn't have an official name, so our scouts named him Richard.
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| The Boy: "Why did you guys name him Richard?" |
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| "Oh, I see." |
We refilled our water bottles (it was hard to believe that the water in Ponil was just as bad as Indian Writings), checked out at the staff cabin, and departed at 3:15 PM for our next camp that was four miles away.
We had heard so much negativity about how stubborn burros were, but Richard was no problem at all. The scouts had no issue leading him down the trail. In fact, the donkey was almost dragging them along at his rapid pace.
After a mile, it was evident that Frodo was ailing. He had probably overdone it at the conservation project and was now exhausted. It was now my turn to stay back with him as he slowed his pace and took frequent breaks. I also took a liter of his water to lighten his load.
The first three miles were completely flat and easy to traverse. We passed several streams along the route. On our break, Wetwipe couldn't resist using his expensive MSR water purifier. That fluid was so tasty that we dumped out our bottles that were filled in Ponil and replaced them with refreshing mountain stream water. We were taking too long resting, so Richard decided to move on without us. He crossed the stream and started up the path to our next camp. The scouts had to run after him to get him to rejoin us.
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| A coterie of asses. |
The remainder of our hike was a steep upwards trek of over a mile. While the scenery was beautiful, it was tough watching Frodo struggle just like I had done the day before.
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| Inferno and The Boy display their troop's gang signs. |
We finally made it to the top of the ridge and strolled into the Elkhorn Trail Camp with only an hour or so worth of daylight left. It was a pretty and spacious campground with lush trees. The soft, moist dirt was a far cry from the dust of Ponil. I had a slight headache, but felt good otherwise.
The scouts unpacked the burro and placed him into his pen where he would have hay and water. An adviser from a neighboring troop brought over a hot coal as a nice gesture for us so that we could start a fire. Unfortunately, several of our crew members (including myself) spent too much time scavenging for dry firewood in order to turn that into a real fire. They neglected their more important crew duties.
I manged to set up my tent as well as The Boy's as he was busy hanging bear bags. I was running around trying to get as much work done as possible during the last vestiges of twilight. Suddenly, I started to feel really light-headed and weak. Soon this turned to outright nausea, and I had to lay down in my tent for what seemed like eternity. During this time, I could hear a ton of commotion and shouting from our campsite.
Around 9 PM, I crawled out of my tent and tried joining the rest of the troop for dinner. It was already pretty late, and all the other adjacent campsites had gone dark. Try as I might I just didn't have the appetite to eat any of the fettuccine pimavera that was made.
I knew from past experiences that I was now suffering from altitude sickness. This was a discouraging predicament for me as we had only climbed to 8,500 feet. Our highest point on our trek, which we would tackle in less than two days, would still be 4,000 feet higher. I crawled back in my tent and had a heart-to-heart talk with The Boy. I explained to him that if I wasn't feeling better in the morning, then my journey was probably over as I would have to be evacuated to the infirmary. No way was I gonna jeopardize everybody else's experience anymore. I told him that no matter what happened to me, he needed to continue on, hike Mt. Baldy, and finish his 12-day Philmont experience. And with that I passed out with exhaustion.
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