Who me?

I know I said "the end" yesterday, but I have had another day to close up shop. After dinner tonight, this deer appears ready for mass at the Catholic chapel. It's friend grazed contentedly nearby. There were four more (2 does, each with fawn) at the Protestant chapel - either the deer are getting holier or we're getting less threatening in the late season.

After very moderately attended services tonight, it was time to "drain the machines" at the snack bar, always a hit with remaining staff. One discovers there are a few more around than one thought!

The road home beckons. I am thankful for both my point of departure and my destination. Thanks to all of you who have given these lines a read - I hope you've discovered something about the chaplaincy at Philmont. In writing, I have only deepened my love for this place, and for the God who made it.

And so it ends!

I'm not really as happy as I look! The closing campfire is a daily occurrence from mid-June until August 20. Lots of staff turned out to join the 450 campers who came down the mountain the last day. As film of early crews (1941) played, I gave thanks for my Dad, for Jesse, for Peggy, all of whom have shared this Philmont experience. Dad came out for Woodbadge in 1953 (I'm sure I've said that), and so I have lived on his stories, mine, and ours for lo, these 57 years.

I will host one more service tonight, as some staff remain here at base. I expect it to be the classic "where two or three are gathered," but what a privilege. At last night's service, four deer came running almost into the chapel, looking intently at everyone, then proceeded to nonchalantly graze their way around the perimeter. Added to the approximately 40 horses just over the fence - it was altogether fitting. Here are the words of the Philmont Hymn, written in 1946 Philmont legend, John Westfall:

Silver on the sage, starlit skies above, aspen covered hills, country that I love.

Philmont, here's to thee, Scouting paradise, out in God's country tonight.

Wind in whispering pines, eagles soaring high, purple mountains rise against an azure sky.

Philmont, here's to thee, Scouting paradise, out in God's country tonight.

I am almost 10-8, base to Raleigh.

On top of the world

One gets that sense from many locations scattered around 137,000 acres (214 sq mi). This is Sawmill Camp, where staff described that morning's sunrise as spectacular. On their last day there, they weren't about to miss it! A wonderfully spiritual group of loggers.

I think I mentioned this is 9280 feet above sea level. Scouts from Florida and New Jersey and yes, North Carolina, have considerable altitude adjustment. Every now and then, at 6700 ft here in base camp, I find myself taking in several deep breaths - catching up. I hear the air is a little, uh, thicker in NC.

Colleagues

Jim DeLair of Buffalo, NY, is my fellow Protestant chaplain, along with four Catholic and a Latter Day Saints. The collegiality among the team is exceptional, and shows a real ecumenical spirit. Yes, we do our individual services, but we are chaplains for the whole ranch, in peak time about 4500.

The days are shortening in length and in number. The cool of the evening comes more quickly. This evening, I had an errand in town, and saw dozens of pronghorns (they're not antelopes, technically), the buffalo herd,

I got to go to Sawmill camp today, one of the places I hiked to in '95. It's at 9280 ft, which is 4,000 ft higher than Denver, the "mile high" city. The five staff we brought in (gathered) were reluctant for the season to close, and as with most, are making plans to return.

As I go to Cypher's Mine tomorrow, I'll miss their locally world famous "stomp," with fiddle, banjo, etc., and a dance whose steps are, well, more of a "stomp!"

Cypher's Mine is 10-7 for the season!

Led by camp director Edwin (left), the CM staff calls is a summer. Last thing, they gather around the short wave and sign off - they actually sang off, to the entertainment of everyone listening in.

This camp is 20 mi into the back country, terrain so rugged that tents can't be pitched, so campers stay in 3-sided Adirondaks (which is something of a relief, in my experience!). They also feature a "stomp," and this is a truly talented group, well placed for this program.

The ride down (90 minutes) to base camp was a chance to find out all about their summer, the high points, the challenges, and an unending stream of fun and funny things that had happened. They are not as isolated as it sounds, as about every 9 days they get 3 days off - many of which are spent, you guessed it, hiking more of the back country.

Oh yes, the "10-7" - when one is en route to a destination, one is "10-8," when one arrives, one signs off with "10-7."

Trail Bibles - cool!

A highlight of each worship service is giving "trail Bibles" to trekkers. In a long-standing tradition, the Bibles are donated by the National Assoc. of United Methodist Scouters and United Methodist Men. This summer, the Bibles were a special edition commemorating 100 years of the Boy Scouts of America. One of my fellow chaplains (Jim) tells them it's the lightest weight Bible ever made, printed on helium paper, and to take it on the trail will actually make one's load lighter. There's bound to be some truth in there somewhere.

"Gather" continues, and I will be able to go to Cypher's Mine to bring in Fairmont-rooted Edwin Terrell and his crew (Thursday). Don't think he knows I'm coming, although I have seen him this summer.

All the crews we see now are home bound, lots of staff has headed off to start school, and the machinations continue to work very well. Philmont is just remarkable!

What's cookin'?

"Chuck Wagon tonight!" That is a welcome cry, one heard in the vicinity of Beaubien. After varying degrees of rehydrated food, beef stew, biscuits, and sometimes cobbler are more than welcome. The "vat" is full of fire, making coals, which are stacked over and under the Dutch ovens, also in the vat. Fairmont, you know the sound they make - MmmM!

Fr. Mike 2 and I rode up the winding logging road to do services at "B" on Sunday, but decided it was underpublicized, and the census is way down - we've agreed on a couple of steps to make a better experience next year.

"Gather" hits its stride tomorrow. I'll be back at "B," in part to pick up tools of the "cons" crew stationed there all summer (no, not that kind of cons - "conservation!"). Trekkers spend several hours in service somewhere along the way, integral to the Philmont experience, as well as Scouting. After the big fire of '02, leadership decided to do some thinning of down timber, making less fuel (lightening strikes start small fires every year), but also in hopes of making remaining trees healthier. It is a kind of a lab for seeking the proper "balance of nature."

Coneflowers and buterflies

I've saved this one for a slow day. Baldy Town is a barren old mining town, but just down the hill, a narrow (2') creek runs, generating absolutely lush vegetation. There are lots of coneflowers here and elsewhere, but each one of these three had its own butterfly. Maybe it's by contract...

I wasn't quick enough to photograph 18-20 turkeys, adults and young turkeling (they don't exactly trundle) their way back into the brush. The antelope were fairly close to the road today - they seem fearless, until one steps out of one's car.

I got to a new-to-me camp to bring three staff members down today, 'tis time for college schedules to kick in. Almost everyone can do with reduced staff now, as the census of trekkers is lower. I am continually impressed with the quality of people that work in this place, over 1,000 seasonal staff. Almost all, like me, want to come back!

Burroing Deeper

This young burro was beside the road to Cimarroncito, a highly popular rock-climbing camp. You can't see the markings on this one's back, but from above, there is a very neat "cross" which legend says is a result of Jesus (or Mary?) riding one. It reminds me of the Southern "dogwood" legend.

I was privileged to lead a service at "C," where the film O Brother Where Art Thou resonated with the story of the Prodigal Son. A bigger hit than the message was Mortimer/Minibear, and lessons in the making. Sorry to non-family, but perhaps a picture of M/M will show up soon.

The furthest outposts began to come in today, and more will tomorrow, invovling everything with wheels. More will take place tomorrow. I enjoyed worshiping tonight in a Brother Jim - led service... preachers need to hear preachers!

BSA is 100

When I began in scouting, it was 48 years old, and now it's 100. A sobering thought!

At the end of myPhilmont Training Center week (as chaplain), I participated in a 100th-fest, which has been going on week by week all summer. Pictured is Mark Anderson, director of programming at Philmont - a more energetic sort I knoweth not. The man in the black cowboy hat is Dave Richardson, who visited us at Philmont on behalf of the whole BSA, and gave us chaplains a Scout watch - which I am wearing as I write (illumintated! nifty compass!). (Scouting, as other outdoor pursuits, is in part about the gear, okay?)

It is my continuing privilege to lead base camp services, as I will tonight. As the season shortens, the chaplains themselves seem to have a growing bond, spending precious time together when possible. That's what happens when it's a good thing!

Tomorrow, the "gather" begins, where the most distant camps will begin to transport gear and personnel to camping headquarters. That should get us chaplains to the far reaches of the ranch, as everything that rolls will be in service. Yes, I roll!

At a mining camp called French Henry, the Scouts are eager to try their luck panning for gold. There were over a dozen active mines on what is now Philmont's property, gold was predominate, but also copper. They occasionally find a fleck of gold - the mountain is slowly washing it downhill.

We were also at Baldy Town, a former mining village hugging the side of the mountain. Relics remain, but miners were not particularly good stewards of the land. The photos from that era are surprising - and that they dragged every bit of equipment and building material to the 10,000 ft elevation. I've seen the numbers on the total value of gold mined here - it was a limited success, at best.

I talked with a group of Scouters today about "religious emblems," and the over 70 faith grourps and denominations that cooperate in such a venture. In my short time here, I feel like I've worn an unexpected number of hats!

The area around the camp Miranda is meadow ringed with Ponderosa Pine and Aspen trees. We stopped for a third stop with our little touring group and accumulated a sick camper, needing to go to the health lodge (which is now a licensed NM health care facility). News is he'll be ready to go back on the trail tomorrow - usually works out that way, thankfully.

The day was topped by a family of five deer, including a fawn, skirting our worship service - two were approaching and staring at me as I read the Genesis 1:24ff passage about God creating all the creatures. It was a big hit with the assembled faithful.

I've led services 4/5 nights, due to some schedule tweaking. I only have about four more opportunities. I count it a high privilege to lead such services. My continuing study of St. Francis was enhanced by visiting "his" basillica in Santa Fe earlier this week. I used the canticle on which our hymn, "All Creatures Of Our God and King" is based - and the hymn, too!

The desert shall blossom and rejoice! Note how sparse the green against the soil. Oddly, the rock gave the plant shelter, maybe even support, to grow and flower. No, I haven't keyed it out yet.

About 10 more days of services now. Numbers diminish, enthusiasm is high. Another priest arrived today, but what we'll do with two Father Mikes is a mystery.

Tomorrow, I take another group to the back country - and hope to see something I've not yet seen this go 'round. The days start early, as I am showing up at 7:00 and 7:30 and 9:00 for duties. That means as 9 pm arrives, I'm checking out.

A few folks are beginning to gather at the newly renovated chapel at the Philmont Training Center, this is the Sunday afternoon "interfaith" service. A young fawn was feeding nearby before we began - the little girl at the right immediately tried to recruit me to help chase it. Instead, I recruited her to ring the chapel bell, a gift from the Lutherans of Minnesota - somewhere north of Lake Woebegone, for sure. She managed to ring the bell with a hand over an ear. A formal dedication service will take place Wednesay afternoon, with the donor family (I don't know their names) in attendance. I have several set times to be at PTC this week, and some informal ones, too. Cobbler night is Thursday. Just saying...

As we near the end of the season, the pace begins to slow, the influx continues, but totals are smaller. The congregation again tonight at base camp was wonderfully animated.

Requiem for an Apple Tree

Waite Phillips had a large apple orchard, and it is said that some of the trees date back to the 1920's and 1930's - very old for most fruit trees. This one is near Philmont Traders. Once a double tree, the stump, over two feet across, is so rotted that you can see daylight through the base. The "shoot" is about 4 inches in diameter, and holds up a treeful of about 50 apples. What an image - very Isaiah 11 !

I then led the Protestant service, a most animated group, which happens when they want to be there! It was notable for me that our director of program for the whole shebang was present for worship ... it's kind of like having the district superintendent show up unannounced! Mark is an amazing leader, guiding all three of the above mentioned Philmont operations with vision and grace. Of course, I haven't seen my, er, performance review... not saying I'd change my opinion. Not out loud, anyway.

Roadsides flower even in the desert.

Holy sunflowers, Batman! This is a very close up shot... the petals are about the same as the huge commercial variety, with the center being the desert trade off.

Many plants seem stunted - Gambel Oak is often "scrub," but others, like Aspen, Ponderosa pine, Douglas Fir and White Fir do very well. Hardwoods other than oak are hard to come by. Willow and cottonwood do well in the wet places.

I am slowly learning some more plants, but haven't had nearly enough opportunity. I'm still trying to figure out how to do a montage of flowers, but will have to be content with this for now! I will try to remember to send you a picture of my favorite apple tree in the near future.

It's been an almost rain free day, a rarity in the two weeks we've been here. We hope to catch one of the daily "closing campfires" tonight, and resplendent stars thereafter.

Tooth Ridge (jaw line?!)

An afternoon storm was like unto the one referenced in the previous post. For once, I was grateful to not be on the trail. The hail on the benches of the Catholic chapel (outside here) was like a xylophone - with limited tones.
Much of the day was consumed by working with another staffer on a back country conflict. We can only measure progress by the conflicted staying on the trail, and so far, so good.
We took part in opening a new facility for the health lodge tonight, where the healing-up Scouts can look up the mountain and see crews returning from this very Tooth of Time - that is strong incentive to get back on the trail!
Every day, I am met with my own rising emotion over some aspect of life here. I may be leading prayer or having a conversation, preaching or treaching, or just listening to someone breathlessly telling a story. What a blessing to be a part of this amazing place.

Yet another favorite spot, Crater Lake. The cabin has a breezeway, the lake is said to be from (ready?) a crater. Over 8,700' elevation. We were returning from delivering a message at Beaubien, the real deal cattle and horse part of the operation (and 7 wild turkeys), and heard on the short wave that a trekker would need a ride to the health lodge (a fabulous facility, new since I was here in '04). So we came back and waited for a ranger to hike to where his pack was, so that he would have it for his HL stay. We join his crew in hoping he'll be able to rejoin them in a day or two, which is typical for "trail ailments."

I was here in '66 with my Dad, and in '96 with Jesse - that time we watched a lightening storm cracklling along Tooth Ridge. Days later, we were on Tooth Ridge with lightening far too close for comfort. Peggy has been both places, too, minus the lightening -for which she is grateful. Note the reflection of sky, clouds, and mountain forest in the lake's water. What would Harry Potter call that, a "clarifying pool?"

OA Trail Crew

The Order of the Arrow functions as an honor society for Scouting, and is devoted to service. I was active as a teenager, was even vice chief in charge of ceremonies. Getting into the preachin' bidness kind of messed up my weekends, where most year around Scouting activity happens, including "OA."
This is two crews who are about to set out on part trek / part trail building adventure. Year by year, these crews have been vital to enhancing Philmont's back country infrastructure, which is served by 300+ miles of hiking trails - they are repaired, rerouted, reopened, or all of the above.
Today was my second opportunity to gather with such a group as they near the end of their base camp training. They have some surprises coming, which is part of the experience. While convened at the Catholic chapel, we found a great shade tree not far away for the interfaith service. Their "foreman" is a Philmont staff member, and shared with me that he hopes to go on to seminary - at Duke. Most assuredly a man of sound judgment.

We sell Peanuts and Root Beer

That's the sign over the door at the Abreu Cantina. Root Beer is most coveted after days and days without carbonation. The adobe walls, as well as those around the animal pens, were all made by Scouts, an ongoing activity. The house (not seen) is a traditional farm house, the Abreu family figuring prominently in the land transactions that eventually became Philmont. A fox or weasel got all the resident chickens in one attack - sounds like frenzy killing, staff is not sure which varmint got 'em. Last time I was here, they were having chicken races, which really amounted to which chicken would wander over to some corn - the Scouts's cheers made no difference, for some reason.
I went there today to meet two crews that are on day 17 of a 21 day trek - about double the usual. They are kind of all stars, in a way, and do not know day to day where they're going until told. At this point, they're beginning to reflect on the whole experience - that was the theme I was assigned, "Reflection." They were having a great time, and by now "get" Philmont. This kind of experience has inspired many a participant to come back to work as staff - may be the method to the madness.

The Piper of Philmont

Gordon McKinney is a man of many talents. A friend from our last time here in '04, he'll occasionally just break out the pipes and make a loop around base camp, playing a wide variety of tunes. I asked him to come to our service, and tonight was the night. Amazing Grace, of course, and we sang with him on American the Beautiful. (We would have worked him harder, but he had a pressing meeting - and by the by, Gordon is one of the people who know how Philmont works!)
Today we went back to Cimarroncito in a different capacity, to deliver an emergency message. Then I held the interfaith service at the Philmont Training Center, back in time to train the chaplain's aids, greet the advisors, and lead this worship service. Gordon's music set the tone, and Elyn was back to lead music once more - another talented friend who can really get the Scouts to participate at Opening Campfire.
It's 9:18 pm, and there are final preparations for an 8 am back country service. Vacation, anyone?

Cimarroncito, in the back country

Back country etiquette has a crew waiting to be invited onto the porch. They always are, and then are offered something to drink, like Gatorade or water. This crew is finding out all the site has to offer, including rock climbing (seriously), and in the event of rain, indoor rock climbing walls. When we went back in the evening to do a worship service, it was in the middle of a pouring down rain. The Protestant chapel has outdoor seating, so the staff was gracious to let us use the rock climbing indoor site - and over two dozen showed up. The staff at this camp is quite wonderful, and hosted us for a really great meal, including some back country cheesecake - you won't find any better! As crews are heading for sleeping bags, they have endured two pretty serious pour downs. One's prayers begin to include things like dry clothes, fresh (!) socks, and a leakless tent - all true gifts on days like this.

This magnificent outcropping is called Cathedral Rock. Another angle shows organ-pipe like structure, but I wanted to include the water of the reservoir. It was first built to be the town of Cimarron's water supply, but was never used for that. Instead, it is alive with trout, and the reflections it holds are breath taking. What we see is at least two hundred feet high, I don't know exactly.

This is near Hunting Lodge, a preserved outpost of Waite and Genevieve Phillips, although he wasn't much of a hunter. They had parties there, and guests who were hunters stayed there. The last grizzly bear was killed on the property in 1938, the year Phillips donated the first 35,000 acres to the BSA. The house is amazingly bear-proof, with heavy doors even on the interior, and special door openers that a thumbless bear could not negotiate. There are black bear claw marks on the back door from 2008. Yikes! A little more...

Tired & Muddy

That could describe Scouts by the hundreds. We attempted to take a group up to Uracca Camp, but last night's torrential rain turned the dirt road into mud. We made it down, backing part way. Whew.

Rain is inevitable at this time of year, when this high desert is transformed - it's greener, the sun-flowers are in full splendor (with 3-4" blooms), and I'm waiting to see cactus blooming, ala Isaiah 35 (the desert shall rejoice).

The day would get better...

I went with a group of Philmont Staff Association folks to the Philmont Reservoir. It's a pretty good hike, all up, but what a glorious place. The upper left is part of Tooth Ridge, leading to the afore-written about Tooth of Time. The trout were biting - for someone else. No reason to show up the guests, now is there?

The story I heard is that this was a Depression era WPA project, which means it has endured for around 75 years. It supplies all the water to Philmont's base camp. Hardly feels like government intrusion in our lives...

One of our chaplains fell and broke his arm today, so we're short another one, down to 5 of the 8 it takes to do this right. Say a prayer for Fr. Ray, I'm sure he'll appreciate it.

Just ax me

In 1953, my dad, Bob, used a rare work bonus to gain some special training for Scouters, called Wood Badge. The bronze ax was mounted in 1950 at a place called Shiff (I think that's right), a national training center. I don't know when it was moved here. Dad used lessons from his time there at Zastrow the rest of his days. It also set in motion the time he and I would be there together 13 years later, and 30/35 years after that, I would be there with Jesse (2X), and here with Peggy in '04 and now. Early Scouting had a lot of English imagery, the ax was what was awarded to a "freedman," giving him the privilege of "lopping" firewood instead of just gathering on baronal lands. So the ax became a symbol of freedom. On an earlier visit to this site I found the pre-flood creek bed, as well as some ceremonial stonework fireplaces that were likely in place when he was there. Incidentally, his Wood Badge crew went up the Tooth of Time - on horseback. His horse's name was Banjo, and he said he made a number of promises on the way up, and some more on the way down... but I doubt that Banjo ever got the expected oats, carrots, or even one date with the mare.

As the back country season moves into its last few weeks, all the departments have "Philfests." We were invited to go to Zastrow, by which flows the beautiful Ryado River. A strange thing happened in the mid-1960's. Extensive flooding changed the course of the river from one side of the camping area to the other. I've tried to imagine how that happened. Maybe somewhere upstream, enough boulders were dislodged to change the flow in that area, and the water did what it always does, seeks lower ground. The boulder on which I'm sitting here is at least six feet in diameter - so picture rocks like that flung around by the torrents. Flash flooding continues to pop up every season, but nothing like that one!

The Church of the Holy Child is right across the road, and also part of Philmont. Once a family chapel, the 1904 structure has been well preserved, and is open for mass on just one day each year - today. 19 year Philmont chaplain, Fr. Don Hummel, presided. The Maxwell family home is just across from it, also being restored, and studied along the way.

A real bonus today was seeing Edwin Terrell roll in from Cypher's Mine, where he is the camp director. It was a joy to be able to introduce him at the church service I was leading as someone from "back home." I will give everyone else the same introduction when you also show up here for a service of worship.

My old NC friend, Lee "Blue" Price, is giving a blacksmith demonstration to some Scouts who have just finished their 10 day trek. He was gracious to give us lunch, and we toured what was Kit Carson's trading post. On the Santa Fe Trail, the stage coach track. We learned that a little way off was the wagon train track, and the stage coaches did not want to get behind the wagon trains, which they were in danger of doing on one 24 mile stretch. Stage coaches went 70 miles a day, wagons 12 ... this traffic issue has a 21st century ring to it. If they'd only known, all they needed was a round about. Ok, Raleigh humor.
The staff had a serious bear incident a few weeks ago, with one of them doing hand to paw combat, and winning.

Boy Scouts of America, Happy Birthday! July 27, the new Scouting stamp was unveiled at Philmont, as it was the day before at the National Jamboree. This represents 100 years of Scouting, a direct result of Lord Robert Baden Powell's vision in England. National and local postal officials were on hand in front of the Villa Philmonte, the home of the legendary Waite Phillips, also donated to Philmont (it is now used as a museum. I started saving stamps at about age 9 in Cub Scouts, and still have the 50th anniversary of Scouting from 1960. I'm not old, I'm durable.

"Congratulations! You're a chaplain's aide - pick out the softest rock and have a seat." And they do. Then I give them the lowdown on what the chaplain staff does. They, however, are now youth spiritual leaders for their crews. They get a white pack tag (something of a prize), which is filled with info on how to do their job. From there, I greet a gathering of all their advisors, highlighting some of the same information, and encouraging them to support these young people, especially in encouraging their whole crew to earn the "Duty To God" award - a unique Philmont creation. It is another important way that Scouts live up to the 12th of the Scout laws, "A Scout is reverent."
In a couple of days I have the opportunity to lead a crew in a devotion at 5:30 am, watching the sun rise from Window Rock. How I merited that duty has something to do with being the new guy, I'm pretty sure.

See, here's the deal - my back was to this most ominous cumulo-nimbus... moments later, we were drowned out, but not before I had received the offering, given away 100th anniversary of Scouting Bibles, and blessed 'em on their way. I guess I'm mostly forgiven, but there were some drowned rats, er, Scouts.

The new day found me covering a variety of camping headquarters duties, meeting staff, speaking to rangers, outbound chaplain's assistants, and advisors. Even on a day when it rained ALL day long, the feel of the place is magnificent. I really enjoyed listening to the patter of the staffers doing their various routines. The wet weather made back country driving too hazardous to, uh, hazard, so I missed my first venture to one of the great camps, Beaubien. More cometh.

Philmont Eve
Spending the night at the Liberal Inn, in Liberal, Kansas. Home of Dorothy, of Wizard of Oz reknown, and also the International Pancake Festival. Please tell me how it gets any better than that.
Tomorrow, I'll roll into Philmont Scout Ranch, 214 square miles of wilderness, with over 300 miles of trails, and lots of black bears. 20,000 or so Scouts go through here every year. Oddly, I arrive just as the National Jamboree week is about to begin, marking 100 years of Boy Scouts in the USA. Because of that, Philmont is able to host a week long staff reunion - a truly great week for me to begin.
So I'll be in the midst of buffalo roaming, deer and antelope playing (they don't play well with each other). It will be my home for the next month... my sixth journey to Scouting's promised land. I'll meet with Elder Wilson and learn my rotation of assignments.
I hope to begin to add pictures soon. I'll take any prayer requests you want lifted from a mountain top!

Countdown 7 days

Hello, Phil Fans!

Philmont Scout Ranch, near Cimarron, NM. One of the many staff-driven proclivities is to make everything a Phil-something. Thus the title and greeting.