Run 2

Cause Run 1 was a bit of a disaster.

The second run is supposed to be a fairly good one. You haven't grown bored with the routine yet, are not to badly beat up from the work, and yet, you know what the routine is and and what kind of work you are getting yourself into.

Because I have not explained these "Run" concepts to you, please sit down, raise your cup of caffeinated beverage, and relax as the information flows over you. A Run is the designated work time of a Work Crew (of which I am a member), and lasts for about 9 days. During this time, a work crew moves from campsite to campsite, repairing things that need repairing. We clear the corridors of trails so as to facilitate passage. And, we also find a place to crash for the evening, cook dinner, and usually fall asleep on top of a tarp, looking out onto the bright starry sky.

Anyway, Day 1!!

Consisted of sitting around waiting for management to decide what to do. Technically, our crew was heading out a day early, so as to get in a day early. A fair deal in most circumstances. However, due to various internal ineptitudes, we were unable to leave. So, we sat around until dinner time at Base, where upon we ate a hearty meal of prefabricated starch and returned to our pile of mattocks, saws, and loppers, with a crosscut and gaffing material sitting on top. Finally, our foreman gave the all clear and we packed it and ourselves into a truck and headed out for the North Country. While the rest of the evening was rather bland and uninteresting, I would like to point something out. That night, with 5 days worth of food for 5 pepole in our packs, we were unable to hoist the bear bags up a tree. Thats right, 5 fully grown adults were unable to pull up the food we were carrying. Math time: 5 food bags weighing between 35 and 50 pounds each comes to a round average of more than 200 pounds of food.

....

Just saying...

The second day was a routine maintanence day, moving from Miranda, a camp that demonstrates the use of black powder guns, to Head of Dean. We lopped the trail, grunted under the weight of our packs, and sweated. Yea, Men! By midafternoon we arrived in Head of Dean, where we dropped our packs, grabbed mattocks and shovels and headed out to dig holes for the glorious Pilot-to-Bomber. Called such because the pilot (on one side) will call out to the bomber when he is dropping bombs... Or some such bull shit (clever pun). Anyway, they occasionally fill up, and we are sent out to dig new pits, about 3 feet deep. Glorious job? Well... Its got to be done I suppose. The alternative is, of course, a large and vast quantity of poop rocks littering the landscape...

After a dinner provided by the kind staff of Head o' Dean, we were invited to spectate the evenings games. See, the HoD has a ropes course (Perhaps I should explain that all staff operated camps at Philmont have some sort of program to educate the incoming campers with) and so their games consisted of balance and teamwork. In this case, it meant spinning around ten times fast and then whacking each other with plastic noodles. Excellent entertainment, and supremely satisfying to watch. Maybe not so to participate... I dunno. Anyway, while that would have satiated the most bored, we were in for another treat. After bashing each other with plastic noodles, the campers headed over to climb a wall. Well, this was more of a challenge than usual. The wall was over 10 feet, and the whole crew had to climb over it. There could be only two people on top of it too. So, the 25 or so kids sat for a minute and then came up with a fairly simple plan; two people on the bottom lifting, a couple strong armed kids to lift themselves over initally, and then some jumping kids for the finale. While fairly simple, the plan was initially poorly executed, as the majority of the stronger kids got up and over and the remnant left were smaller, younger kids with almost no physical strength. The highlight of the evening occured when one rather skinny dorky kid made his attempt. Wearing a bright yellow 'Life for Jesus' shirt, he possessed neither the arm strength to pull himself up with the help of his peers, nor the core strength to swing his legs up and over the wall. He dangled there while those above could not lift him and those below could not push him up any farther.

PFFFFTTTTT!!!!!

And a cloud of stink settled on the mob still below him! The five of us on Work Crew fell in a heap, laughing until tears came to our eyes. While the kid did eventually make it up, followed in short order by the rest of his crew, the evening was declared an absolute success.

The third day was possibly one of the longest days I will ever work here at Philmont. We awoke at 530 and walked down Dean Canyon to place some signage and then returned to Head of Dean by 10, having already done over 6 miles. A brief repast, and then we saddled up again and headed for distant Baldy town, another 5 miles down the trail. The trail, as it turned out, turned out to be a furnace, sitting on top of a ridge with little shade. We dug out and repacked a sign post and dug two more P2Bs (affectionately called Shitters by the Conservation Dept.) before finally reaching our destination around 8. Needless to say, I slept the entire night thru.

The fourth day was a sort of recovery day. We dug two more Shitters rearranged some signs for better usage! and read. It was an altogether easy and boring day, and nobody was complaining.

The fifth day was another regular day, ya know, with the exception of a hike to the top of the 12400 foot high Baldy Mountain. We woke early and headed up. The only difference between this 12er and a 14er was that the grassland was nonexistant. However, from the top, the wind was incredible. Easily 50-plus miles an hour and my wind jacket flapped like the wings of some great black hummingbird. We huddled behind a rock outcropping and watched as nearby participants were blown about, some nearly reaching the edge before regaining control. After everyone felt that they had had their fill, we headed back down and headed out to the mock-logging camp of Pueblano.

The sixth day was a hiking day, traveling from Pueblano, up to Wilson's Mesa and traveling through the national forest, and down into a Philmont owned canyon. While the corridor was not in such bad shape, several burnt and dead trees littered the path and had to be delimbed and pushed off to the side. We ended our day at Dan Beard, where we ate steak.

The seventh, eighth, and ninth days were spent clearing a fence line. As part of some contract with the National Forest, Philmont gets to use some of their land for their camps. One of the stipulations though, is that Philmont maintains a fence line running through the National Forest. So, it was our job to make sure it was made pretty again. We spent the day hacking apart (mostly) burnt trees leaning on the fence or that were too close for comfort. And returned to Dan Beard at night to feast upon the food that the staff had graciously cooked for us. I can only imagine what it must have felt to eat across from 5 big, smelly (remember we had been working for over a week by this point, no showers), and dirty guys who practically inhaled the presented offerings. On the last day, we worked to a road, where we were picked up and whisked back to camp.

Ahh, that shower felt magnificent.