Philmont Expedition 727-E1-1994 – 27 July 1994: On the Rocks / Day 0: Calm Before the Storms

On the Rocks

My first major hike as a Scout was up Schunemunk Mountain, the highest peak in Orange County, New York. Which was conveniently located just a short walk from my troop’s meeting location. It was 1991 and I was starting to take a more active role in the troop after more than two years of membership. And that meant getting out of my comfort zone and taking part in more activities.

Comfort was completely out the window. It wasn’t just the challenge of the terrain, which started on roads, then went along railroad tracks, turned into the woods, and ended on the top of a small mountain. Having outgrown my hand-me down starter backpack, I had borrowed my brother’s backpack for this trip. The same one he took to Philmont three years earlier. Which was still adjusted for him and had metal parts in the waist belt that painfully dug into my legs.

I was not a fast hiker. I wasn’t fast in general. That year, I ran a mile in 10 and a half minutes for my school’s physical fitness test. And by “ran,” I mean ran/walked. Because I couldn’t run for a full mile. On this 5-mile hike, it was all I could do to stay at the back of the pack with the slow kids and a couple of the adults. It was getting dark by the time we climbed from the woods out onto the exposed rock of the upper section of the trail. We had long since lost sight of everyone else.

Despite lagging far behind everyone else, we remained in good spirits. If nothing else, we had adults with us to lead the way. And slower kids to slow us down. Since the adults had to stay with the slowest hikers, I went on ahead at this point, keeping to the unfamiliar trail by spotting the specks of yellow paint that served as markers. And when it was too dark to see the trail markers, I had caught up with some other kids and we bushwhacked our way through the brush toward the light of the campfire. It wasn’t the conventional path, but we made it.

The trip back should have been easier. Or at least more scenic. On the way up, the views of the Hudson River were at our backs. So for the return trip, we took a different trail and went straight down the side of the mountain, seeing nothing but steep trails and switchbacks. It was a faster way down, but it was also more difficult and dangerous. And it left us with more than half of the hike to be spent along railroad tracks and on the large gravel that surrounds them.

Everything was sore and the tracks seemed to go on forever. Our only views served as a reminder of how far we still had to go. Still, we pressed on to the end, thankful when it was over. I was clearly not cut out for this.

Day 0: Calm Before the Storms

Arrival at base camp put our sightseeing on hold and brought the coming trek to the forefront. We had one day to prepare for everything we were about to encounter. To facilitate this, we were assigned a Philmont Ranger. Mike would get us ready so we could stay safe and be respectful of the environment.

But first, we had some free time. There was enough time to go into Cimarron or take a shower, but not both. Or we could try to squeeze a hike to the Tooth of Time in, but that was probably a bad idea. We opted to go into town, which wasn’t really much of a tourist destination. Probably should have gone for that shower… We bought some turquoise jewelry as souvenirs and returned to camp.

I still had one slight problem. With the trek about to start in less than a day, I was still missing one of the required items – a hat. As simple as it sounds, I just didn’t have anything suitable. Except for uniform hats, I never wore one. The last hat I had worn casually was a Mets hat, which was not an option in the era of the Worst Team Money Could Buy. So I put it off until the last possible moment. Finding nothing good along the way, the Philmont store was my last option. So I went with a hat with the Philmont cow brand on it. Problem solved.

We had some decisions to make to finalize our itinerary. We were following itinerary 23A, rated Rugged over 66 miles of trail. This would take us across Philmont from south to north, across Tooth Ridge and up Baldy along the way. Miranda, the camp that we would be at before and after our ascent up Baldy, gave us the option to use burros for our final two days on the trail. Figuring that we would want to take a load off, we opted for the burros. Then we needed to schedule our pickup time at the end. Not knowing whether the burros would slow us down, we decided on the later 1pm pickup instead of the 11am slot.

Now we got a crash course in everything at Philmont that can kill you. When a problem arises that requires assistance, send a group of three for help so that, if someone is hurt on the way, there’s someone to stay with them and someone else to get help. Water was essential, drink plenty of it (“clear and copious”). We were provided with a water purification kit consisting of a jar lined with special crystals. When filled with water and left to sit for half an hour, a cap full of the water could purify one quart of water.

For lightning, we were shown the proper lightning position (elbows together, knees together). We also had it drilled into us to start counting as soon as you see a flash of lightning – if you hear thunder within 10 seconds, that means that the strike was less than two miles away and it was time to assume lightning position. That learned reflex is still strong 25 years later. For bears, we were told to keep all smellables in a bear bag and keep our distance if we encountered one. Anyone with a bee sting allergy would have to carry an epi pen. And, most importantly, we emptied our packs for inspection to make sure we were properly equipped.

Nobody was missing any required equipment, but there was plenty of extra gear that only added weight. And too much weight in this environment can be deadly (heart attacks are a common cause of death on the trail). The first thing to go was 50 feet of static line hanging off Joe’s pack. Because it looked cool. Billy was advised to leave his Walkman behind, but he decided to take it anyway. And I was told that a light jacket and a sweatshirt were redundant, so the jacket stayed behind. We separated out everything to be stored in a locker while we were on the trail and finished the day almost ready to hit the trail. But not before a last taste of ice cream.

Somewhere in there, we had a photo taken and we visited the chapel. An opening campfire was on the schedule, but I don’t remember it.

Next: 28 July 1994: Friendly Fire / Day 1: Hitting the Ground