Saturday, June 27, 1998
Ponil Camp--
We meet our horses!

Saturday, June 27, 1998 Ponil Camp--We meet our horses!

Saturday dawned hot, clear and dusty. Most of the adults awoke before 6:00 a.m., wanting to get a last shower and shave before hot water and soap became unknown luxuries. The boys, motivation in this regard appeared somewhat less compelling.

Jeremy was not available to lead us into breakfast. In his absence, the rangers leading various backpacking treks were emboldened to take their groups in to the dining hall ahead of our Cavalcade--in flagrant contravention of Jeremy's pronouncement concerning the Cavalcade's superiour positioning in the Philmont Food Chainl The boys consumed massive quantities of scrambled eggs, orange juice and sweetened cereals--Tricks, I believe. The adults concentrated more upon the fruits and hot beverages.
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After breakfast, Andrew organized the group to ensure that all tents were swept out (new groups of scouts began arriving before breakfast), that the stuff sacks and saddlebags were taken down to the welcome center and all gear which would be left behind was locked in the two storage lockers we were allotted. We all made certain that we filled our two water bottles--Jeremy had warned us that the water at Ponil was not the best tasting we would encounter.

The Bus to Ponil arrived at 9:00 a.m. Andrew checked us out of Headquarters and we departed for Ponil at about 9:20. Jeremy and Dale rode with us as did another Cavalcade group and two midshipmen from the Coast Guard Academy. I sat next to the midshipmen. This would be their last day at Philmont and they were going to see the only Tyranasauras Rex foot print in North America, which is located on the Philmont grounds. They would be returning to New London, Connecticutt on Sunday to resume their challenging program at the Academy. As a boy, I had gone to the Coast Guard Academy for my physicals prior to going to Boy Scout Camp. Seemed like a long time ago. The trip to Ponil took about 40 minutes. It was uphill most of the way--the elevation at Ponil was about 7,4001. We got out of the bus, unloaded our gear and awaited further directions from Jeremy. The other group did pretty much the same thing, moving some 20 to 30 yards away from us.

We dropped our gear directly in front of the corral, which consisted of several fenced-in areas 30 to 40 yards square. Each area was accessed through a gate. outside the corral was a larger fenced area where we could see 40 or 50 horses of varying colors and sizes. The horses we would be riding for the next week likely would be selected from this group! Inside the corral, we could also see 20 to 30 burros milling about, frequently hee-hawing their displeasure over something.

For most of us, this was as many horses and burros as we'd ever seen up close. The knowledge that we soon would be walking among them, putting saddles on and riding them left us feeling both excited and a bit unsettled. Whether it was these feelings or just the recent bus ride, we all experienced an abiding need to empty our bladders as we contemplated the horses in the corral. We walked to the nearby Red Roof I= (aka latrine) to perform this function.

These facilities were identical wherever we travelled. They consisted of two holes, side by side, with a trap door to cover them when not in use. There were no toilet seats. The boys referred to the seats as the pilot and co-pilot seats, however, they typically elected to fly "solo.,, I used the opportunity to tell them about the old military barracks where a line of 10-12 toilets with no stalls--a la "No Time For Sergeants"--was the norm.

In any event, we all lined up to use the facility and this took awhile. Upon returning to the corral area, Jeremy inquired in that quaint, piquant manner of his as to what had occupied us for so long--I recall his words as being, "Where the Hell have you been?" When Andrew told him, Jeremy made the first of the many telling points that he would imprint indelibly on our minds that day: the latrines were to be used for one thing and one thing only and that one thing was not urination. Urine, Jeremy explained, contained salt. Animals, especially mule deer, love salt. When urine dries on the wood in latrines, deer will chew that wood, causing rough spots, uneven surfaces and greatly increasing the probability of splinters when utilizing the latrine for its primary function. "We're in the back country," Jeremy reminded us, "if you need to take a leak, find a rock or a tree. Don't use the latrine for that I "(Note: over the course of the next week, we found a few latrines which had been "nibbled" by deer--it did make for uncomfortable seating!)

Having all been enlightened regarding proper latrine etiquette, Jeremy brought us all into an empty section of the corral to begin our indoctrination as horsemen. He had us sit on the top rail of a split rail fence as he gave us some general background information. He impressed upon us from the outset that everything he would be telling us was of critical importance and that we must "hinge" upon his every word to ensure our safety and the safety of our horses and the crew.

Among the first things that he told us was that, for the duration of the Cavalcade, our priorities would be as follows: First came our horse; second, the crew and last our individual needs. We would be depending on our horses for the next week and, so long as we treated them properly, they would do whatever we asked them to do.

Similarly, we would be depending on each other a great deal during the week and could not afford to allow individual concerns to outweigh the best interests of the crew. Jeremy stressed that he would communicate to the crew through Andrew and the the crew should utilize Andrew to communicate with him. Several times on Friday and again on Saturday, Jeremy would draw Andrew aside to discuss various things that he expected the crew to get done. Andrew then would relay these communications to the crew.

Jeremy explained that horses were pack animals with the instinct to flee rather than attack should danger or uncertainty arise. He showed us how to approach a horse and how to walk around a horse, emphasizing that we should avoid sudden movements or any actions which might startle or frighten the horse. He demonstrated how quickly a very mild-mannered and seemingly gently horse could be transformed into a rodeo performer simply by startling it. We got the message quickly--watching a 1500 lb animal thrashing wildly about is a true attention grabber!
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Jeremy then demonstrated how to "catch a horse, 11 put on the soft rope halter and tie it up for saddling. Then he showed us how to saddle a horse, cinch it up appropriately, put on the bridle and place the bit in the horsels mouth. This was pretty heady stuff and we all paid rapt attention. After all, we'd be doing this for ourselves right after lunch!

We took our lunch break right after the saddling demonstration was over. Andrew took several of the scouts and walked to the Commissary where he was issued three burlap "bear,, bags filled with our provisions for the next three days. These provisions consisted of a variety of vacuum sealed plastic bags, each containing a number of different food items, also encased in plastic. Each bag was labeled breakfast, lunch or dinner and had a number below it--typically a 4. We quickly learned that "Breakfast 411 meant that the bag contained breakfast items for 4 persons.

The breakfast and lunch bags contained food items which required minimal preparation. Dinners required some cooking and planning--typically, measuring and boiling water. This was pretty straight forward stuff, but operating the stoves soon proved to be something of a challenge to the non-adult members of the group.

our first trail meal introduced us to the Philmont penchant for crackers and squeezeables--jalapeno cheese in this instance. For each meal, we would divide into groups of four--it was decided that each day, a different scout would eat with the adults. Jeremy and Dale did not camp with us, nor did they eat with us.

For breakfast and lunch, an appropriately labeled plastic bag would be given to each of the three four-person groups. For example, the bags containing our lunch on Saturday each consisted of two small boxes of crackers, approximately 16 packages of squeeze cheese (each about the size of the squeezeable catsup packages at McDonalds), two packages of powdered drink mix (each would make a quart)--usually gatorade and some dried fruit.

The meal was surprisingly filling, took almost no time to prepare and created minimal garbage. This last factor became a major consideration because we were required to "pack out" all garbage until we reached a drop off site--usually a camp ground. The rangers would not accept our garbage unless we compacted it properly--in essence, we were required to reduce the waste material to roughly one tenth of its pre-consumption size. We became more adept at this as time passed.

When lunch was over and we all had compacted our trash, we refilled our water bottles and returned to the corral. It was time to meet our horsesi

During the lunch break, Jeremy and Dale had brought the horses we had observed upon our arrival at Ponil into the corral and they were milling about calmly about 30 yards away from us as we walked in. Jeremy had us each select a fence post in the corral and stand by it. He or Dale would then call each of us out by name and direct us to a particular horse as one of them led it through the corral gate.

I was among the first to be assigned a horse. Jeremy handed me the halter to Budweiser, a large, powerful animal with a gentle temperament and noble posture. I got the sense immediately that he could handle any challenge I might pose to him and that he would treat me well if treated him kindly. I was very pleased with this choice as I led my mount to the post and tied him off as we'd been instructed to do.
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This process was repeated for every member of the group. As I observed the boys and the other adults being introduced to their horses, it became apparent that Jeremy and Dale had endeavored to match the animals with the needs and temperaments of their riders. The adults for the most part were assigned larger and more settled horses--although Jim Fisher's horse, Sam, certainly was the most spirited of the three adult mounts.

The boys' horses, on the other hand, frequently were younger and much more energetic--like the boys themselves. A couple of the horses, in fact, appeared to reflect the personalities of the boys who would be riding them. For example, my son's horse, Cleo, appeared eager to run and play and was full of energy. This was true of Andrew Roger's horse, Kinte, Scott Coleman's horse, Mescale and Steve Ybarrals horse, Skipper. In many ways, these horses seemed alot like the boys themselves.

Several of the horses appeared to be older. Tom Phelps, horse, Star, and Tony Ciak's horse, Dusty, to name two. I think that we were all satisfied with our mounts and those of us who had horses that seemed somewhat less energetic than the others did not view this as a negative whatsoever at that point in time.

Just to complete the listing of riders and the horses they would be riding: Chris Bosch--Rascal; David Fisher--Trace; Alex Ciak--Sally Frogdaddy and Justin Linde=ayer--Chatahoochie.

After we had all led our horses to their respective fence posts and tied them properly, Jeremy directed us to a storage building where we were given saddles, pads, bridles and helmets, which we would be required to wear at all times while mounted. We then carried all of these items--"tack" as Jeremy referred to them--over to our horses, trying our best to do so using only our left arms as Jeremy had demonstrated.

To say that we were a bit tentative around the animals would be an understatement. Jeremy and Dale had shown us how to approach a horse from the left and to stay very close when walking around it while staying away from the head and hind legs when possible. We were all very conscious of avoiding sudden movements or doing anything which might startle our mounts. All of this caution resulted in snail like progress as we "saddled up."

Jeremy had explained that the first time we saddled our horses would take the longest for two reasons: first, we had not done it before and would improve with practice; second, we would have to adjust the saddles to fit our horses and ourselves. These adjustments would not have to be made the next time we saddled the horses.

Budweiser was very calm throughout the saddling process. The f irst thing I did was place two pads on his back, centered and somewhat forward. Proper placement of these pads was very important because they would determine the horsels comfort level once the saddle was strapped on. I placed the saddle on top of the pads and commenced the process of securing it tightly to Budweiser's chest. This was accomplished with the cinch and the breast strap. The cinch consisted of a cloth strap which was attached to the right side of the saddle. As Jeremy instructed, I placed the cloth strap underneath Budweiser and across his chest just behind his front two legs. A long leather strap, the latigo, was attached to the left side of the saddle. I passed the end of the latigo thru the metal ring on the end of the cloth cinch strap and tightened it as Jeremy and Dale had shown us. From my perspective, the most difficult aspect of the process was having to get the cinch tight enough. The purpose of the cinch was to keep the saddle on top of the horse and if we did not tighten it properly, we risked having our saddles slide off to one side and, as Jeremy put it, "a free rodeo ! " I knew I was not ready for that.

My son, David, who Jeremy decided to call Jr. to avoid confusion with David Fisher, got a taste of what happens when a horse is startled when Cleo took exception to Tony Ciak's activities near by. David immediately cleared the vicinity while Cleo reared back and demonstrated how powerful he was. Jeremy and Dale got him calmed down quickly and we proceeded.

We learned that it was not suf f icient to tighten the cinch just once. Horses are full of air--and gas, and their chests tend to contract as they exhale or otherwise lose air or gas. This point was demonstrated to a number of us who witnessed our horses sigh, bvbelch or noisily break wind as we "cinched them up.,, Within five to ten minutes a tight cinch could be loosened considerably due to contraction and we were instructed to check our cinches frequently.

The breast strap went in front of the front legs and was designed to prevent the saddle from sliding off the rear of the horse. It was not nearly as difficult to tighten as the cinch and required minimal adjustment after it was initially in place. It took us nearly half an hour to saddle all of the horses the first time. Jeremy and Dale were very patient as the checked everyone. Some of us had to start over from scratch, but we all were getting the hang of things. They showed us how to adjust the length of our stirrups so that we'd all sit right in the saddle. Then it was time to put on the bridles.

The bridle is the leather harness that goes over the horsels head. All of ours were connected to metal bits which had to be inserted in the horsels mouth and into a gap between his teeth. All horses have this gap. Jeremy showed us how to use the thumbs of our left hands to open our horses' mouths to accept the bit. Budweiser required no such prodding and willingly accepted the bit. Once the bit was in place, I placed the harness over Budweiser's head and behind his ears as we'd been shown, making certain that it was properly tightened. The harness also included the reins--two long leather straps attached to each side of the bit. The rider used the reins to control the horse. As I finished securing Budweiser's bridle, I observed that the other members of the group were completing the process as well.

The last part of the saddling process was to secure our saddle bags to the rear of the saddle. This proved to be the easiest part; two leather straps on either side of the saddle were provided for the purpose. We needed the saddle bags to hold our water bottles and certain other items--sun block, first aid kit, which we might need while riding.
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Now, it was time to mount up and conanence our "shake down ride." We led our horses about 50 yards to another corral and climbed on.

Getting on a horse looks easy and, for most of the boys, it was. For the more seasoned participants, however, especially those with stiff knees and various other infirmities, the task proved to be a bit more challenging. I received tumultuous applause and cheers as I managed to climb onto Budweiser's head and neck before I eventually worked my butt into the saddle. Jim and Tony acquitted themselves with somewhat more elegance. Jeremy and Dale politely withheld comment as they rechecked our cinches.

When everyone was properly mounted, Jeremy led us out of the corral and onto a nearby trail. Our horses followed Jeremy's horse, Jet, in a single file line, pretty much nose to tail. By prior arrangement, the adults brought up the rear. Jim Fisher's horse, Sam, did not like being approached from behind so it was agreed that he would always ride last in line. Budweiser and I were next to last with Tony one or two horses ahead.

Jeremy had instructed us how to control our horses and how we should sit in the saddle--keeping about 50 percent of our weight on the stirrups with our toes pointed away from the horse at about a 45 degree angle. We also were careful not to insert our feet into the stirrups all of the way. In case we fell off, we did not want to become entangled in the saddle or stirrups.

For the next hour and a half, we all got plenty of practice in controlling our mounts. Jeremy kept the pace quite slow for the most part and we found riding in the saddle to be relatively comfortable. Occassionally, however, Jeremy would quicken the pace from a walk to a trot (canter is the term utilized in English riding stables) and this was decidedly uncomfortable--I thought my kidneys would rupture if we maintained that pace for more than a few minutes at a time. Fortunately, we did not.

We passed thru some wooded areas, crossed a stream where we learned how to let our horses take a drink and began to acquire an appreciation for the animals upon whose backs we'd be riding for the next week. Witnessing how seemingly effortlessly Budweiser handled steep grades, I could understand why people grew to depend upon horses for transportation--sitting in a saddle certainly seemed less strenuous than carrying a 50 lb. backpack

We returned to the corral between 3:30 and 4:00 p.m., dismounted, tied up our horses, unsaddled them, took off the bridles and returned our tack and helmets to the equipment shed. When we were done with that, Jeremy issued each of us feed bags and showed us how to put approximately one gallon of protein pellets in each bag and then strap it onto our horse's head. This task proved to be a bit challenging because the horses were all very anxious to eat and tended to move their heads quite vigorously as we attempted to place the feed bags. We got the hang of it relatively quickly, however, and soon the horses were eating calmly.

While the horses were eating, Jeremy and Dale gave us our tents, backpacking stoves, cooking pots, rope for our bear bags, rain slickers and fuel containers. We then gathered up our stuff sacks, saddle bags, provisions and crew gear and hiked to where we would be camping for the evening, which was approximately a quarter of a mile away.

The mid-afternoon sun was hot but not unbearable. It was still quite dusty. Jeremy had explained to us that a chuckwagon dinner would be served that evening. We would not have to use our own stoves but would be required to contribute 2 "cooks" to assist with the meal preparation, which was to commence at 5:00 p.m. As we walked beyond the corral, we passed several buildings, including some houses where permanent Philmont staffers reside. We stopped at the Ponil general store where I purchased fuel for our stoves. Next door was the Cantina, where root beer, candy and snacks were available for purchase. This was also where evening entertainment-guitar playing and stories by the Ponil rangers--would be presented.

Hot water and showers were also available near the campsite. We learned that no soap could be used after 5:00 p.m., however, because this attracted bears, which were especially active due to the on-going drought conditions.

Our campsite consisted of an area 50 to 75 years square in a grove of small trees. Fresh drinking water was available from a spigot about 25 yards away and close to that was our "sump". Earlier in the day, Jeremy had explained to us that every campsite where we would be staying during the Cavalcade would have a fire ring--which we would not be permitted to use because the State of New Mexicols on-going prohibition of campfires due to the drought, a bear cable stretched between two trees and approximately 25 feet above the ground and a sump, which we would utilize to dispose of all of our waste water when we washed our dishes in the evening.

The sumps were six inch diameter plastic pipes which had been sunk in the ground to a depth of about eight feet, where they were connected to another pipe comprising a rudimentary sewage system. I never learned the ultimate destination of the waste water. The top of the sump pipe stuck out of the ground at a height of approximately 18 inches. A screen was installed over the mouth of the pipe to filter the waste water. As a further filtration device, we were instructed to place an old plastic frisbee in which numerous holes had been punched on top of the sump and to pour our dishwater into that and allow it to drain into the pipe. All food and other residue left in the frisbee would be scraped into a plastic bag and disposed of with our other garbage.

As noted earlier, each camp site also would have at least one "Red Roof Inn". Having observed scouts at camp for a number of years, I'm still puzzled why they are so reluctant to use a latrine. To be certain, these facilities tend to be more "fragrant" than the typical bathroom at home. When properly ventilated, however, and all- of the "I=sll at Philmont certainly were, they are tolerable and assuredly superior to many public restrooms I have encountered. Nonetheless, several of the boys made a conscious effort to "hold it in." Not that it mattered--with all of the water we were drinking and the food which Philmont provided, none of the boys succeeded in holding out too long.

We familiarized ourselves with our tents and set them up without too much difficulty. We had been told to bring eight tent pegs apiece and we needed them. Of course, one or two of the boys forgot to do this. Some of us brought some extras, however, so no crisis resulted. The tents had rain flies, which also help keep the temperature inside comfortable. The boys were not initially too receptive to the adults, comments about the many praiseworthy features of rain flies and were rather careless in their use of them, if they used them at all. If they were content being either warmer or colder than the adults found comfortable, who were we to try and convince them otherwise?
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The two cooks left to help prepare the Chuckwagon dinner as we finished setting up camp. The area where that meal would be served was almost directly across and about 100 yards away from our campsite. The last task that we needed to perform before we could relax a bit was to gather up our food and "smellables" to be placed in the bear bags and secured to the bear cables well out of the reach of hungry bruins and other wildlife.

We had anticipated that all food items and things like sunblock and toothpaste would have to be protected in this fashion. We were somewhat surprised, however, when Jeremy and Dale informed us that the list of items to be placed in the bear bags would inclu de many more things--like our fuel bottles, the stoves, cameras, batteries and virtually anything that had a perceptible odor. We were told to keep our boots and the clothing that we wore during the day outside the tent and to sleep in separate clothes.

The idea was to minimize the number of things in our tents and campsite that retained an odor and would be accessible to a bear-or any other animal for that matter. While a bear would not drink fuel or eat a stove, the scent of each might attract one to where we were sleeping and that is what we wanted to avoid. To further reduce the likelihood of a bear visiting our tents, we avoided setting them up in the triangle formed by the fire ring, the sump and the bear bag cable.

We placed our smellables in the same burlap bags which held our food. This increased the weight of the bags substantially-altogether, we probably hoisted about 125 lbs of food and smellables up on the bear cable each night. We had two ropes to hang three bags and it took awhile for the boys to figure out how to tie them so that they would not hang below each other. The test we applied was whether I could jump up and touch one of the bags, which I was able to do rather easily the first evening. We figured if I could reach the bags, a bear likely could do so as well, my amazing athletic prowess notwithstanding.

The Chuckwagon dinner consisted of Beef Stew and beans. The boys dined at one of several picnic tables with the members of a couple of backpacking crews. The adults removed themselves some distance away to some log benches. The food was tasty and hot and, after seconds and thirds, everything was consumed. Clean-up was taken care of rather efficiently and, at about 6:30 p.m., we had our first real opportunity to relax for awhile.

Jim and Tony availed themselves of coffee available at the Chuckwagon dinner and I took some time to jot down a few notes for this chronicle. The boys milled around the campsite for awhile after dinner but soon headed to the Cantina about a quarter of a mile away for candy and root beer.

This seems an appropriate place to make some general comments about the crew. Because our group consisted of six boys from Troop 92 and three from Troop 1 in Piedmont, the adults were concerned that we might approach things as two groups--not one. While the boys from the two troops did tend to hang out with each other, this did not prove to be a problem. From the outset, everyone seemed to get along with each other. Good natured teasing and goofing around passed back and forth between as well as among the two troops.

Several topics seemed to dominate the leisure conversation during the early phases of the Cavalcade: what would it be like if Sebastian Devasia, another scout from Troop 92, had accompanied us?; how cool everybody looked when they walked about in their underwear and cowboy boots; and how many nose bleeds would Chris Bosch endure before the trip was over? Sebastian's unique perspective on the world was discussed frequently while we were in Colorado Springs and initially upon arriving at Philmont. The boys sent him a post card from the Air Force Academy and a letter before we left for Ponil. Just about everything we did the first two days, someone would wonder how Sebastian would react to it. There was general agreement that Jeremy would found Sebastian to be an intriguing challenge.

Scott Coleman and Alex Ciak were the fashion trendsetters with the boots/boxers look and encouraged others to follow their lead. Enthusiasm for the look appeared to wane as we encountered more and more young ladies--either Explorer scouts or staff members. That could have been a coincidence, however. Fashion crazes are ephemeral

Chris Bosch is a notorious bleeder and we knew that he would continue to embellish this reputation at Philmont. We did not anticipate, however, the extent to which he would do so. Chris suffered his first nose bleed at the hotel in Colorado Springs and the number had reached double digits before we left Philmont headquarters. I had discussed this with the Philmont doctor even before we arrived. She told me that, so long as the nose bleeds were not accompanied by any other symptoms--headache, nausea, disorientation, that we should not worry. Make sure the boys drink alot of water, get enough rest and eat right and we should be f ine. In any event, all of the boys were guessing what the number would be by the time the trip was over. Even Dale got in on the action. Chris handled the situation pretty calmly- -other than grossing us out every now and then by blowing his nose and displaying the contents. He did not let the nose bleeds detract from his participation in the activities.

Jeremy had taken Andrew aside earlier in the day to advise him what he would be responsible for doing as the Crew Leader. one of his tasks was to assign people to handle the various duties which needed to be performed each day. These duties were as follows: two people to catch, halter, tie up and feed the crew's horses each morning; two people to bring the pack horses to the campsite, two people to handle the bear bags, two people to help with meal preparation and two people to handle clean up. The adults would help with the horse duties; otherwise, the nine scouts would be rotated through the various tasks.

Andrew is the Quartermaster for Troop 92 and has had experience as a Patrol leader and the Troop's Bugler. He had never undertaken a leadership role quite as demanding as that of being a Cavalcade Crew leader. Basically, Andrew was expected to coordinate everything we did, ensure that we got where we were supposed to be, when we were supposed to be there, that our horses were cared for properly, our crew equipment and provisions were kept secure and in good working order and that individual crew members were fed, clothed and properly rested.
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Andrew soon realized that his responsibilities were far greater than he at first anticipated and his stress level increased noticeably as he set about the task of putting the crew through their paces. Communication proved to be one of his first significant challenges. He identified which members of the crew would be responsible for the various duties each day, but had difficulty disseminating the information, forcing crew members to seek him out to determine who was supposed to do what. (In a few years, they will mature to the point where they recognize that, when everyone decides that all jobs are everyone's responsibility and the concerns over whose "turn" it is to cook or clean up will disappear!) On this first evening, Andrew got us through dinner and clean up with no major problems. The next challenge would be to get breakfast, break camp, load our gear onto the pack horses and be ready to depart by 9:00 a.m. as Jeremy had requested.

It was Saturday nightl True to cowboy tradition--and confirming the arrangements we had observed Jeremy making the night before, we saw Jeremy all "spiffed up" in a clean shirt and pair of jeans and driving out the Ponil gate enroute to a dinner engagement with the young lady who led the campfire. He did not appear at all unhappy to be leaving us.

The adults spent a half hour or so discussing the events of the day around the campsite, wandered over to make certain that the bear bags looked secure and, generally, relaxed after dinner. The boys did not appear overly eager to hang out with us and, within 10-15 minutes they all had vacated the area.

We were not in any particular rush to locate them--we did not f igure that they I d wander too f ar away. We had the foodi The bears were not known to come out until much later, so we did not worry that they would carry off any of the group. More importantly, the Cavalcade was intended to be an opportunity primarily for the boys and we did not want to interfere too much with their experience. That meant giving them space and staying out of their way when possible.

It was still daylight after 8:00 p.m. when the adults decided to check out the Cantina, which is where we presumed the boys would be. As we approached the building, we could hear a guitar and singing, laughter and applause. It sounded like people were having a good time. Tony Ciak and I sat on a picnic table just outside the Cantina and listened to some of the songs and stories being sung and told by the Ponil Rangers. We had not yet peered inside the Cantina. Tony walked around to the back of the building and signalled me to join him. When I did, there, through a large pane glass window, we could see all nine of our scouts seated together at a large table watching the performance. Stacked in a pyramid in the middle of the table were 20-30 paper cups--the boys "empties" from what appeared to be some serious consumption of root beer.

We heard the ranger encourage his audience to see more than just what was in front of them during their time in Philmont--to appreciate the many spectacular vistas, the wildlife, trees and streams. Most importantly, he asked them to consider the wonderful opportunity they were given to experience something about which many people only dreamed. The fatigue which comes from great effort, heat and altitude would fade, but the memories they would make of their Philmont Experience would last a lifetime.

I thought about the Ranger's words as I watched the boys sitting together. Tony and I left them alone. We were happy to see them sitting pretty much as a group. The boys from Piedmont were sticking together, however, they did not break away from the Troop 92 boys. We never expected that the nine boys would choose to do everything together. We simply hoped that they would be able to cooperate and work with each other such that their collective experience would be a positive one. Although it was still early, the initial indications were promising.

The Cantina program ended around 9:00 p.m. and it was almost dark. We all had flashlights, but it soon became apparent that we'd likely be getting to bed before 11:00 p.m. most evenings. The combination of the altitude, the physical exertion, the heat and our high level of excitement made us pretty tired. Some of the boys played cards in their tents for a while, but almost everyone was asleep--or trying to achieve that state--by 10:45 that Saturday evening, our first night out.

As I may have mentioned earlier, none of us brought sleeping pads. We did not have enough room to carry such luxuries. Consequently, we unrolled our sleeping bags directly on the tent flo6rs--in other words, we slept on the ground. I can only speak for myself, but I encountered significant difficulty finding a comfortable position to sleep. It seemed like I woke up every 15 minutes during the night, which seemed interminable. Past experience has taught me that the first night is always the hardest, and I expected that I'd get used to the ground as time passed.
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