Sunday, June 28, 1998 Ponil to Head of Dean.

Sunday, June 28, 1998 Ponil to Head of Dean.

Jim Fisher had brought a small portable alarm clock and, at Andrew I s request, agreed to act as the group I s wake up call. Jeremy had instructed Andrew to have the group ready to load up the pack horses at 7:30. We would need sufficient time after we got up to eat breakfast, break camp and organize all of our gear. Andrew decided that 90 minutes would be sufficient and ordered us to be up by 6:00 a.m.

Sunrise was a little after 5:00 a.m. and the dawn was clear and cool. Quite pleasant. Because of the drought, insects-mosquitoes in particular, were noteworthy primarily for their absence. I got up, got dressed and put on my cowboy boots. wanted to take advantage of the last chance I would have for awhile to take a shower, so I helped the bear bag detail expedite the retrieval of our smellables, which included my shaving kit, and then hustled over the the shower building a hundred yards or so from our campsite.
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When I returned--about 20 minutes later, everyone was up and some effort was being made to coordinate breakfast--our first on the trail. As we had for lunch, we divided into groups of 4 and divided the contents among us. Packets of instant hot choco ate were included, however, none of us took advantage of these--unless it was to eat the powder straight. The morning's cooks.had not seen fit to make any hot water, which would require lighting the stove. This decision eliminated hot coffee/cocoa as an option and prompted the adults to curtail somewhat Andrew's . discretion. Henceforward, hot water would be available for breakfast

This breakfast and, as we would learn, every other breakfast we I would have during the trip, included cereal of some kind-typically sweetened but occasionally granola or oatmeal, raisins or other dried fruit and some kind of high energy bar--Pemican as we came to learn. Powdered orange drink was also included, but the boys liked to save that for later in the day to mix in their water bottles.

Breaking camp went relatively smoothly and we commenced the process of lining up our tents, stuff sacks and crew gear in two identical lines as Jeremy had instructed. We would be taking two pack horses. We had the option of taking three, but Jeremy figured we could get by with two and that would speed things up. As usual, he was correct.
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The idea behind lining up all of our personal gear, food, and crew equipment in two lines was to organize things by size and weight. We did not want to overload the pack horses nor did we want to make them unbalanced--i.e., carrying more weight on one side than the other. Either condition likely would result in having to stop along the way and repack. There was a reasonable likelihood, too, that gear might slip and startle one of the pack horses, causing them to do something unexpected--and that might cause the other horses to respond in kind. The next thing we knew, we could have an impromptu rodeo. We had learned enough about horses to know that we did not want that.

Five of the scouts headed off to the corral a little after 7:00 a.m. We got a little confused and all headed down there a little while later, leaving our gear lined up as we'd been told. I guess we thought we'd need to get our horses and ride them back to load the gear or something. In any event, we got about half way to the corral when Jeremy and the scouts leading the two pack horses, Sandia and Panda, intercepted us. Jeremy revealed his displeasure at our failure to follow his instructions to the letter, observing that we'd left our gear completely unprotected and that bears did not forage exclusively at night.

We hiked back to the campsite, relieved to see that everything was as we left it. Jeremy had made his point; the mistake would not be repeated.

Jeremy then showed us how to load our gear and equipment on the pack horses. Each horse was equipped with a frame apparatus on its back instead of a saddle. The horses were chosen for their steady temperament. Both appeared to be a bit older than the horses we would be riding, but neither was particularly large-Budweiser was significantly bigger.

Sandia was light brown in color and very calm. Panda, was mostly white with black splotches and was the older of the two-probably in hi - a late teens. Both liked to graze--bend down and eat grass, even while in motion. Panda was especially fond of this past time.

The frames on each horse were made of wood and formed 2 mishapen X's on each animalls back. Two large canvas bags--panyers-were hung on either side of the frame on both horses. When we got to our campsite, we tied the pack horses to trees close to where we'd laid out our gear.

Following the same priorities established at the beginning, we loaded our provisions and crew gear first. The bear bags which held our food, the cook kits and tents were stuffed into the panyers and then hung on Panda's pack frame. Jeremy told us that Panda was a bit stronger than Sandia, who would carry stuff sacks only. Next we loaded the six tents and six stuff sacks, arranging them symetrically on Panda's back to form a neat arc between and including the panyers. We secured the load with a large strap which we centered around it and tightened with a metal buckle at the middle of Panda's chest.
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We covered the load with a canvas cloth, which we tucked neatly under the pack frame, and then secured it tightly with rope utilizing a special diamond hitch as Jeremy showed us. It took us about 20 minutes to get Panda properly "packed." When we got the hang of it, Jeremy said, we should be able to do the job in less than 10 minutes.

Loading Sandia with our stuff sacks and personal gear took a little less time--maybe 15 minutes. In the future, we'd load both horses at the same time instead of sequentially, and that would save us a great deal of time. As it was, we were about 30 minutes behind Jeremy's schedule when we headed off to the corral with the pack horses in tow.

Enroute, Andrew experienced one of his first crises as crew leader. When checking out provisions for the crew the previous day, he had given the check-in sheet to one of the rangers. one of the f irst things Jeremy had done when he met our group was to stress to Andrew the importance of never letting that sheet out of his sight--to the degree that he had Andrew write, in big, bold letters at the top of the page, "Don't lose, or it is Andrew's Ass."

Andrew mistakenly believed that he could trust a ranger with the sheet. In any event, Jeremy was something less than pleased to discover that the ranger who had taken the sheet from Andrew the day before had not returned it by the time that we were ready to depart our campsite. Both Jeremy and Andrew dedicated time that morning to addressing the situation. I was not privy to all that occurred, however, Andrew succeeded in reacquiring the check-in sheet and appeared quite resolute in his determination to take proper care of the document henceforward.

When we arrived at the corral, our horses were haltered and tied to posts and ready to be saddled. The two members of the group who were assigned to round them up (I don It remember who) not only had done that, but had fed them and brushed them as well. We had carried our saddle bags and rain slickers with us. Upon reaching the corral, we retrieved our helmets, saddles, bridles, etc. and headed over to where our horses were tied to "saddle up." Having been through the process once before, we moved a bit more quickly than we had on Saturday and most of us were ready to mount within about 20 minutes. Jeremy and Dale personally checked our cinches even though we had done so ourselves--they tightened three or four--and, at about 9:45 a.m., about 45 minutes later than Jeremy had said that he wanted to leave, we mounted up and headed out of Ponil.

Most of us did a lot better getting on the horses, the boys especially. They really seemed to be getting the hang of things. The adults had a bit more trouble, however, Dale and Jeremy were patient and good humored about our lack of finesse.

Jeremy and Dale each took responsibility for one of the pack horses on this our first true cavalcade trail ride. They made a point of telling us, however, that we would be expected to handle this task on all future rides.

The ride to Head of Dean would be about 7.5 miles and we'd be going from an altitude of around 7000 feet to well over 8000. We followed a dirt road out of Ponil and were all in good spirits as we commenced the first official day of the cavalcade.

Dale, leading one of the pack horses, took a posit:Ubn in front of the group and was followed by the nine boys in no particular order. Tony was near the end, I was next to last and Jim Fisher, as he would be every day, was at the end of line--with Jeremy off to the side leading the other pack horse. The horses quickly fell into a comfortable, walking pace, trotting occasionally when necessary to catch up. Instinctively, they seemed to want to stay together and did not mind being close to each other--nose to butt as Dale described it.
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The coolness of the morning was long gone by the time we departed and the temperature climbed quickly into the 80's or above. As had been true since we arrived, the sky was completely clear and the least bit of wind or movement filled the air with dust. The road took us through a heavily wooded area with a consistent uphill grade. The horses did not appear to be bothered by the heat, the footing or the dust--other than an occasional sneeze or snort. We, too, were gaining confidence as we observed how surefooted our horses were and as we became accustomed to sitting in the saddle.

We were mindful about drinking enough water and each of us had arranged our saddlebags so as to afford us ready access to our water bottles. Secure in the knowledge that our adventure had at last begun, we relaxed a bit and started to observe the great beauty of our surroundings.

After we had been on the trail for about an hour, we encountered several groups on backpacking treks. It was difficult not to feel smug as we rode by these guys (girls, too, occasionally). While we were seated comfortably atop our powerful steeds, the backpackers were struggling with 40 pound packs, the heat, dust and altitude. We cheerfully greeted each group as we rode past and usually received some good-natured ribbing about how much easier we had it. At times, however, it was quite obvious that our backpacking counterparts greatly envied our mode of transport.

We figured that our horses were moving at a pace of 3-4 miles per hour. They clearly were capable of going faster, but we were quite content with the walking pace. At least the adults were. On those occasions when we increased the pace to a trot, I thought my kidneys would rupture after 10 seconds.

As we progressed deeper into the back country, we would occasionally come to a gate. Dale would open it, wild all ride through and then wait for Jeremy to close it. They did this without dismounting.

The more relaxed we grew, the more talkative we became. Jeremy reported that his dinner date had gone very well and that, afterward, he and Dale had visited a local "water hole" in Cimarron, where they stayed until quite late. Dale stayed longer than Jeremy and neither got more than three hours of sleep.

We continued to climb higher and began to catch glimpses of mountains off in the distance. One of these, Baldy, would be our destination two days later. Although it was hot, we could discern a difference as we got higher. We knew that we were much cooler at 8000 feet than we would have been back at Base Camp.
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Approximately 2 1/2 hours into the ride, we heard the distinctive sound of cars approaching from the rear. Dale checked it out and told us that the vehicles belonged to a team of bear researchers, who, as their title implies, study the bears which inhabit the area. The researchers got to within about 100 yards of us and stopped. We continued on and did not see them again.

Not long after we encountered the bear researchers, we passed by the Pueblano campsite. That would be our destination in four days. We could see the three 30 feet high spar poles which the boys would be climbing as well as the corral where the horses would be staying and several other buildings. We had traveled approximately 5 miles from Ponil and would need to travel another 2 1/2 before we reached Head of Dean.

The itinerary which we had selected called for us to visit Head of Dean, Miranda, Baldy Camp and Pueblano before we returned to Ponil on our last day. Interestingly, the other Cavalcade group would be visiting the very same places, only in reverse order. Philmont schedules the Cavalcades to ensure that two groups start and finish on the same days. This maximizes efficiency and ensures competition at the Gymkhana on the final day.

When we signed up for the Cavalcade, we had to choose whether we wanted to go to the north or the south, each of which offered five or six different itineraries. We chose a north Cavalcade for no particular reason. The boys selected the itinerary primarily for the activities which were offered at the various campsites. Distance and riding time, however, we ' re also factors which they considered. The general consensus was that they did not want to spend all day in the saddle. The itinerary which they chose covered a loop of about 25 miles and included activities such as a challenge course, black powder rifles, mountain climbing and lumberjack skills.

We learned that the Southern cavalcades typically covered much greater distances--one segment was 22 miles and took over 8 hours to complete. As a consequence,, participants had less time to take part in the campsite activities. We were quite content with our selection after seeing what it was like to ride for a couple of hours.

We turned off the dirt road after we reached Pueblano and followed a narrower one for the rest of the ride. We crossed the same stream several times as the steepness of the grade increased noticeably. Around 12:30, we reached the corral where we would quarter our horses until the next morning. The ride had been far more pleasant than I had expected. Budweiser was proving himself to be more than up to the task of transporting a greenhorn like me and I was thoroughly enjoying the experience. Nonetheless, I believe we were all happy to have arrived at our destination and were looking forward to eating lunch, setting up camp and testing ourselves on the Challenge course, which was the primary feature at Head of Dean.

Before we could direct our attention to crew or personal concerns, however, we had to take care of our horses. We dismounted and led our mounts to separate fence posts inside the corral, using the reins. Next, we untied our saddle bags and rain slickers and set them aside nearby. Then we unsaddled the horses, took off the pads, removed the bridles and tied them to the posts with the halter rope. We carried all of that stuff--our "tack"--to the corral building and stored it neatly on racks built for this purpose.

The last thing most of us needed to do before -we headed off to our campsite was feed our horses. Each of us had rolled up a feed bag inside our slicker. We retrieved that, went to a large metal bin inside the corral building and scooped a gallon of protein pellets into the feed bag. Then we walked back to our horses and strapped the feedbags securely over their mouths and around their ears and watched them eat to their hearts' content.
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While doing this, I gained.a greater appreciation as to why Jeremy had cautioned us not 'to do anything sudden or unexpected with our horses. As I had placed the feed bag over Budweiser's head, he had nudged it, causing a handful of the pellets to spill on to the ground. Not wanting Budweiser to be deprived of any of his well-deserved meal, I scooped up the loose pellets and tried to put them back in the feed bag while it was strapped to him. This was not something that Budweiser wanted or expected me to do and he immediately demonstrated his displeasure by pulling back with great force on the halter rope and moving about with remarkable intensity.

Fortunately, I had followed all of Jeremy's instructions concerning where to stand and how to tie off the halter, which somehow withstood the tremendous tension Budweiser applied to it. Jeremy had told us that anytime our horses did not act they way they were supposed to it probably would be the result of something we did. That was certainly the case in this instance. I did something stupid and Budweiser got "spooked".

He calmed down after a few minutes and everyone except the two boys with corral duty headed off to locate our campsite. The guys who stayed behind waited until the horses finished eating and then took off the feed bags and stored them next to the metal feed bin. They then removed the halters and released the horses to a larger area of the corral. This was 50-75 yards square and included a small pond. As we were hiking to our campsite, which was less than a quarter of a mile away, we could hear the horses splashing in the water. They seemed happy to have the rest of the day off!

Jeremy and Dale showed us our campsite, which was reasonably level, had running water within a hundred yards and was about a quarter to a half a mile from the program area. They led the pack horses to a couple of trees where we tied them of f and unpacked our gear. This did not take more than a few minutes and soon we were immersed in preparing our lunch.

Ponil was our first experience with the Philmont "squeezeable" lunch. Haad of Dean gave us our first taste of the "spreadable" meal. Again, we divided into three groups of four, said the Philmont grace: "For food, for raiment, for opportunity, for friendship and for fellowship, we thank you, Oh Lord, amen," and opened the plastic bags containing our lunch. Inside each group's bag were four metal tins of chicken or ham spread and two boxes of thick crackers. The idea was to open the tins and dip the crackers into the spread. Beef sticks, dried fruit and the usual powdered drink mix (Gatorade) were also provided.

I doubt that any of us would rank spreadables as a meal of choice given a reasonable alternative, however, I had no trouble eating my fill nor did anyone else appear to have any strong objections. We finished lunch, compacted our trash while saving all unopened provisions for future consumption and then proceeded to set up our tents. It was after 1:00 p.m. and we needed to get over to the program area soon if we wanted to take full advantage of the challenge course.

Jeremy had instructed that, any time that we left the camp site, we would have to tie up the bear bags with all of our provisions and equipment. Jim Fisher graciously volunteered to stay at the campsite while Tony and I accompanied the boys to the challenge course.. We suspected that Jim might be contemplating a nap or some other form of recreation, however, he kept his true intentions secret. As far as the boys knew, he would be standing vigil against all bears, raccoons and other vicious animals, while we played games.

The main headquarters at Head of Dean were about a half a mile from our campsite-uphill most of the way. It took us about 15 minutes to walk the distance. As usual, the boys left Tony and I far behind in their dust.
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The headquarters building was a rustic cabin with a good size porch where rangers, trekkers and all manner of other persons could escape the sun, shoot the breeze and contemplate the scenery. This cabin was situated near a clearing which offered a magnificent view of the mountains off in the distance. As we approached the Cabin and enjoyed the panorama, our attention was diverted by a skull mounted prominently on a post near the entrance. The skull appeared to belong to a horse, however, a set of horns (apparently from a deer) gave it a decidedly unique appearance. Several groups of backpackers had arrived ahead of us and we were told that we'd need to wait about 45 minutes before we could begin the challenge course. While we waited, we were encouraged to play stump ball or just to relax on the porch and enjoy the shade and the great scenery.

As the name implies, -Stump- ball, involves stumps-tree stumps to be specific. The "ball" used for the game was akin to a medicine ball: duct tape wrapped around sand and/or sawdust to form something of an oval shape about 12 inches in diameter and weighing approximately 5 pounds. Two flat tree stumps, each about a foot high, 15 inches in diameter and about 15 feet apart constituted the play area. The object of the game was for two contestants to stand upon the stumps facing each other. One would take the 'ball' and endeavor to throw it with such force that his opponent could not catch it and maintain his position on his stump.

Most of the boys tried the game. After several minutes it became apparent that one of the stumps was uphill from the other and the player on the uphill side typically was victorious-gravity worked to his advantage and against the player on the downhill stump. Secondly, some of the boys discovered that they could throw the ball much faster using one hand rather than two. David Fisher took a "fastball, between the eyes, causing his sunglasses to fly off his face as he rocketed backward. Chris Bosch incurred several

more bloody noses during the game, bringing his total for the trip up to 171 The boys decided to restrict all passes to the twohanded variety thereafter. Several of the boys took pictures of themselves with the mountain view as a backdrop; others grouped around the skull. A short while later, several rangers returned and the challenge course portion of our experience got underway. our ranger was Trish-yes, a young womani Trish was 20, blonde and a junior in college and she got the boys' attention right away.

We had seen a lot of young women since we arrived at Philmont and learned that approximately 30% of the staff and participants are female. The wrangler for the other Cavalcade was a woman and there were at least two other women in addition to Trish on the staff at Head of Dean. Trish referred to the three of them as the Dean Divas.

She related a bit about the history of the area as we waited. We learned that "Dean- was a horse and, yes, that was his head mounted on the post at the entrance. Why it was decided to name the place after him remains unclear to me. Tony and I were exploring the area during most of Trish's brief lecture.
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Trish gathered the entire group together and had us form a circle facing each other in the shade of several large trees. We sat down and helped her learn our names, which she accomplished in less than three minutes. Next we talked a little about how a group could go about solving problems or challenges. We discussed things like trust, respecting the ideas of other members of the group even if we did not agree with them, the importance of giving everyone the opportunity to participate and utilizing everyone's talents to their maximum benefit.

Our first -challenge" would be the trust fall. Each member of the group would climb on to a platform 6-8 feet above the ground and fall backward off the platform to be caught by the other members, who would be facing each other with their arms interlaced. Everyone in the group had done trust falls before and this event went very smoothly. Trish added a couple of wrinkles which we had not seen before. One member of the group laid down on the ground directly underneath where the person doing the trust fall would land if he was not caught. She had Tony fall face first, which is a much different sensation. In any event, everyone did the fall successfully and we were feeling pretty confident as we headed to the next event.

our second challenge was to conceive and successfully execute a plan to raise one of the scouts to a height sufficient to reach one of the three emblems painted near the top of a narrow wood facing which was solidly braced against a tree. The group's objective was to determine which of the emblems we would try to reach and then work out a way to do it without touching the tree or the wood facing other than to lean against them-i.e. we could not climb on them.

Tony and I immediately concluded that the best way to accomplish the task would be to build a human pyramid-four or five guys on the bottom, three guys who would stand on the shoulders of the foundation group and one guy to be hoisted on the shoulders of the guys forming the second tier. This seemed so obvious to us-it was a no brainer. We were quite surprised, therefore, when the boys, without consulting us, concocted a completely different approach.

Scott Coleman assumed the role of spokesman and coordinator of the plan to meet the second challenge. He directed the boys to retrieve an 8-foot long railroad tie which was in the area and to lean it against the wood facing. Jr., with a boost from the other members of the group, climbed to the' top of the railroad tie and squatted down. Chris Boi3ch, who now was approaching 20 nose bleeds, followed Jr. and climbed onto ir's shoulders. Jr. then stood up. Chris then reached up and touched the top emblem, a heart, and demonstrated that he could have reached it even if was 2-3 feet higher. Chris and Jr. jumped off the railroad tie to great cheers.

The confidence of the group was bordering on cockiness now. The boys knew that Tony and I had not thought much of their plan-in fact we did not think it would work-and took pains to remind us how wrong we had been. Perhaps sensing this cockiness and wanting to bring them a little dose of humility, Trish guided us next to the muse, a challenge which proved to be a diabolical test of the group's ability to stick together as a team.

The ' muse consisted of a number of 12-15 inch cylindrical posts, all of which had been grouped in a circle and sunk into the ground such that all were the same height. Nearby were three 41, x 41, fence posts of equal length, which appeared to be about 8 feet. Our challenge was to figure out a way, using only the fence posts and the sunken cylindrical posts, to transport the members of the group across the "lava pit" which covered the very same circular area where the posts had been implanted. Trish designated one of the sunken posts as the exclusive entry point and another, on the opposite side of the -pit- as the exclusive departure point-every one had to follow the same pathway.

To further complicate the equation, we learned that vicious, ravenous "volcano beavers- inhabited the pit and, should we be so unfortunate as to lose our balance, whatever part or parts of our bodies touched the "lava- would be deemed to have been amputated by the beavers. We still were required to transport any such injured members of the group; they just would not have the use of any amputated limbs. If necessary, we would have to carry them. Additionally, if we allowed any of our fence posts to fall in, after the third such fall, we would lose it.

Trish further explained that 'the adults had been muted and would not be able to offer any ideas or instruction. They would be considered part of the group, however, and would need to be transported. She encouraged us to devote a lot more time to planning how we would tackle the Muse than we had with the previous exercise. Over the years, I have observed that teen age boys are not very fond of planning. They prefer immediate action. Trish's recommendations notwithstanding, our group was not inclined to spend much time organizing their effort. Still flush from their success with the previous challenge, they were convinced that they could solve the Muse with the same, aggressive approach.

The scouts got together in a rough circle with Tony and I off to the side. Rather than solicit ideas from everyone before proceeding, several of the more vocal members of the group-Scott, Jr., Chris Bosch-inmediately championed their own method of proceeding. The group immediately began to fragment. Instead of everyone working together to accomplish the task, we began to break down. Certain members of the group were ignored altogether-in particular, Tony and I, who, despite our inability to speak, may have been able to contribute our strength to the project.

Rather than explore various ideas as to what would work, the boys tended to go off on individual tangents-from where Tony and I stood, it appeared that three or four different methods were being attempted simultaneously. No one was coordinating the effort and it appeared that harmony and cooperation were non-existent. Chris Bosch single-handedly attempted to place the fence posts, which were quite heavy, on the stumps in such a fashion that the group could cross the pit. While his effort was valiant, his concept was flawed and he succeeded only in exhausting himself and dumping the post into the "lava."
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The boys simply refused to sit back and work out a comprehensive plan. They only wanted to explore their options by trial and error. This approach failed to produce any positive results after an hour, but the boys were still unwilling to change their tactics. Instead, disharmony began to raise its ugly head. Several of the boys became critical of what was being done, but offered no constructive alternatives. Two or three others wanted to give up.

For Tony and I, it was most distressing to observe. I desperately wanted to say something; to seize control of the situation and get the boys organized. Trish was a lot more patient than I. She let the boys flounder around for two hours or more, recognizing that, at some point, they would at last become receptive to the proper way to approach the Muse. When the boys, frustration level had reached the point where it appeared we might all commit mass suicide, she stepped in, encouraged them to regroup and focus upon coming up with a workable plan.

Humbled by their lack of success over the last few hours, the boys were ready to listen. They reformed the circle, took input from everyone and, in 10-15 minutes came up with a plan that appeared to have merit. It did. A short while thereafter, we all made it to the other side as instructed and the Challenge had been met.

This experience was a sobering one for the group, especially the boys, who had expected to conquer each phase of the course in record time. Although I was disappointed that they had not performed particularly well as a team on this exercise, I was happy that they learned that the simplistic approach that had worked so well for them earlier, was not the best way to solve all challenges. The Muse forced them to recognize some of their shortcomings and, despite the blows which their morale and confidence absorbed in the process, they were able to come to grips with the situation and work out a solution to the problem.

The purpose behind the challenge course was to give the boys a chance to learn things about themselves. The Muse certainly accomplished that for us. We learned that we were not quite as capable as we originally thought we were and that patience and cooperation are very important to any group endeavor.

It was nearly 5:00 p.m. when we finished the Muse. Trish gave us one more challenge to prove what we had learned. This challenge was getting every member of the group over a 12 foot vertical, wooden wall. The wall was constructed of 2x4 Is and plywood and was braced solidly in the ground. On the other side of the wall, 3 % feet from the top was a wooden platform. On the right side of this platform (viewed from the front of the wall), a ladder provided access to the ground. The rules of the challenge were straightforward: no climbing up the sides of the wall; no more than two persons on the platform at one time; no more than three people on the wall at one time-including helpers from the platform and the person actually being boosted or helped over the wall. Additionally, once a person came down from the platform, he could no longer participate as a booster. Everyone, however, would act as spotters for people on the wall.

Trish advised us of an additional, optional wrinkle, which some groups liked to add to the challenge: to have everyone come down from the wall in the same order that they went over it. That would mean that we could not keep our biggest or strongest people on the platform to assist everyone up the wall. Of course, the boys accepted this added challenge.
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The adults, who were the largest-and the strongest-members of the group would be taking part in the exercise, but would not be allowed to direct it. The boys came up with a plan which called for the adults to help boost two of the stronger boys to the top of the wall. Tony and one of the boys would then boost me up and over so that I would be up there to help when Tony and one of the boys came up. The big challenge would come when the number of boys still on the ground became inadequate to provide much boosting assistance. The boys decided to proceed and deal with that situation when it arose.

Andrew Roger was the first boy to be boosted. Tony and I kneeled down in front of the wall. Andrew placed one foot upon each of our shoulders and we stood up. Andrew then grabbed the top of the wall and pulled himself up and over. Jr. was next and he utilized the same technique. Now we had two people to help at the top and it was my turn to go up. Tony and most of the boys on the ground provided my "boost" and, with Andrew and Jr. helping from above, I made it up and over with little trouble.

When I reached the top, Andrew descended the ladder and returned to the group to help as a spotter-first up, first down as we had planned. Tony was next, followed by Alex, Chris Bosch, David Fisher and Steve Ybarra. Everything went very smoothly up to this point and we had only the Piedmont crew to get over the wall to accomplish our objective.

The task now became somewhat more problematic because we would no longer have very much boosting help from the ground. The boys decided to take some time to consider the best way to overcome this challenge-they had learned something from their experience with the Musel After five minutes or so of consultations, they decided to test out one of the techniques which they thought might work. This technique called for the largest of the three boys, Scott Coleman to be boosted up the wall as had the previous members of the group. Scott would then be the helper at'the top for the two remaining boys-keeping in mind the restriction that only 3 boys could be on the wall at one time. The smaller of the two remaining boys, Justin Lindermayer, would then boost Tom Phelps up to where he could reach Scott, who would lock arms with him. Justin would then "climb" up Tom until he could grab the top of the wall and pull himself over. Then he would help Scott pull over and the challenge would be complete.
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Nice in theory, but the boys who would be expected to execute the technique were not certain that it would work. Jr. 11 Chris Bosch and another of the Milpitas group volunteered to demonstrate. By this time, a co-ed group of Explorer Scouts had gathered about 20 yards away to watch us while they awaited their turn on the wall.

Chris boosted Jr. up the wall and Jr. locked arms 'with one of the scouts at the top. Chris then jumped up and grabbed Jr.'s legs and attempted to "climb.- I should note here that Jr., my ugly son, favors the "sagging- style insofar as how he wears his pants. He prefers waist sizes that far exceed his girth and he does not wear a belt. Typically, the waistband of his pants droops below his underwear.

When Chris commenced his climb up Jr. I s legs, Jr. I s pants began to slide off. The harder Chris tried to move higher, the more of Jr, s skin he exposed. Soon, Chris had managed to drop Jr' s pants completely over his butt-to the great amusement and cat calls of the other members of our group not to mention the f ive or six girls who were-watching us. So intent was he on completing the climb that Chris did not realize what was going on. Anyone not familiar with what we were doing likely would have questioned why Chris had has face buried in the back of Jr's underwear

Whether the technique would have been successful using other people-i.e. someone who wore a belt, we'll never know. Concerned that even more of Jr. might be revealed for public scrutiny if the demonstration continued, Trish called a halt to the proceedings and ordered the boys to devise a new plan for getting the remaining three members of the group over the wall.

An alternate plan was concocted quickly. Scott would be boosted up by Tom and Justin. Tom would then boost up Justin,-who would be pulled up by Scott and the other person on the platform. That would leave only Tom on the ground. Scott would reach down as far as he could with Justin helping.to brace him from the platform. Tom would get a running start, jump and grab Scott's a= and Scott would then pull him up and over.

The success of this venture depended primarily upon Tom's jumping ability and, thereafter, upon the strength in Scott's arm. Steps one and two proceeded smoothly and only Tom was left. He missed Scott's hand on the first two attempts, but got a good grip on the third. Unfortunately, Scott was not able to maintain his hold long enough for Tom to make it. Things were beginning to look bleak. Scott had used a lot of effort on the previous attempt. Would he have anything left for another try?

Recognizing that the success or failure of the group in meeting this challenge rested squarely on their shoulders, Scott and Tom marshaled their energies for one last and supreme effort. Tom leaped up and grabbed Scott's arm once again. He hung there suspended for what seemed like an eternity. Scott's a= appeared to stretch a foot as we watched. Gradually and almost imperceptibly, however, Tom began to inch higher up the wall until Justin could reach him as well. Then, with one final pull, Tom was over the wall and the challenge had been met.

Naturally, we were all in high spirits as we headed back to our campsite. The challenge course had lived up to its name and we all had the satisfaction of knowing that we had acquitted ourselves well as a group. Personally, I was happy that we'd been given this opportunity early in the trip, as it would provide a good foundation for the days to come.

As noted earlier, the evening meal was the only one which truly required us to utilize our stoves. Sunday's dinner was the boys, first chance to demonstrate their expertise with these devices. While all of the boys had assured us that they knew how to operate the backpacking stoves which Jeremy had issued to us, the reality proved to be somewhat different. As Jim, Tony and I watched them endeavor to light the stoves without putting any fuel in them and cook on a yellow flame, we recognized that a substantial amount of remedial instruction would be necessary.
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The boys advised us that the stoves were malfunctioning. Somehow, Jim managed to get both working by putting fuel in.them and then following the lighting instructions. We used the stoves to boil water, which was central to our main course and desert. We combined the meat and vegetable dishes and this proved to be more than adequate. Of course, we were, sufficiently hungry that just about anything would have satisfied us. We did not throw away any food!

The boys were a little cavalier about clean up at first, however, we pointed out to them that New Mexico was a place where the hantavirus had been detected. We further explained that this virus was transmitted in the feces of rodents and that we were living in the midst of dust which likely contained such matter-albeit not infected with the virus. Clean up thereafter proceeded with decidedly more diligence and the boys made a point to sterilize their eating utensils and plates before using them each meal.

The rangers had invited the adults to come up to the staf f cabin after dinner to watch the sunset, have some coffee and listen to Jeremy play the guitar. Satisfied that the boys had taken care of clean-up and had put all of the smellables in the bear bags, we headed up there a little before 8:00 p.m. As we got closer, we could hear a guitar and someone singing. As we got closer we recognized Jeremy's voice. He was singing about some poor sons of bitches who got knocked down a lot but always got back up to finish what they started. Steve Ybarra, our resident military expert was already up there with Andrew Roger. Jeremy was sitting on the porch swing playing an acoustic guitar which belonged to one of the rangers. Dale, apparently still f eeling the ef f ects of the night bef ore, was dozing in a chair inside the ranger's cabin. (He and Jeremy would be sleeping on the corral building that night)

Jeremy was from Texas and made no attempt to disguise his great love for the state and various songs written by Texans. I had lived in Texas for three years when I was about his age and remembered a few songs which he knew. The more I learned about Jeremy, the more impressed I became. He was very intelligent, decisive and passionate about what he believed. He mentioned that he was thinking about becoming a lawyer and I expect that he'd make a good one.

He played about 10 songs over the next hour or so. Jim, Tony and I listened, sipped coffee or tea and enjoyed the cool night air. We'd left the boys at the camp site to give them some space. We all needed a little time to ourselves.

It was getting dark when we headed back to the campsite. We had not gone very far when we encountered Steve. Held forgotten his flashlight and could not find Andrew. He had attempted to get back to the campsite by himself, but decided to wait for us when he hear some strange noises. We all were expecting to see bears running loose and every sound we heard convinced us that one was near.

We made it back to the campsite, checked to make certain that everyone was accounted for and then hit the sack. Fatigue, the absence of a comfortable place to sit and knowing that we needed to be on the trail by 8:00 a.m. (and up by 6:00) combined to limit our enthusiasm for late night conversation, card games or other activities.
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