Posts Tagged With: Philmont

Backpack cooking- Patrol Method

Since word is out that our Troop is doing a 10 day backpacking trip this summer as our summer camp, there has been some concern as to how we are going to incorporate all of the “Scouting Methods” that normally come with the summer camp experience.
Well, I would first of all suggest that our Scouts will have more of the Scouting methods during our 10 day adventure than most Troops will have during your typical Summer camp experience, namely in the area of cooking.
Most summer camps offer a dining hall with cafeteria or family style dining.  This is great and takes a lot of pressure off of the Scouts during the day.
Our Scouts this summer will be using the Philmont cooking methods for our meals.  This will ensure that the patrols or crews will eat together, share responsibility, and eat the appropriate amount of calories that will be required on the trail.
I visited the Philmont web site and recalled a video we shared with our Crews before we went to Philmont.  This video basically sums up how we will be doing our cooking this summer while we trek through the Olympic National Forest.

Our Scouts will be eating on the go for breakfast and lunch, much like the Philmont experience.  We downloaded the Philmont menus plans for breakfast, lunch and dinner, to get a good feel for our planning.  It looks like we will pretty much stick to their plan.  Why reinvent the wheel?
Patrol or Crew cooking in this fashion will be a great experience for our Troop.  We are going to start using this method with our next camp out and continue to practice this through summer camp.  This means each camp out till July will incorporate our meal plan and methods for preparing, cooking, and cleaning while on the trail.  This should be real fun at Camporee this year.
I’d love to know how you all cook on the trail or in camp.  Leave a comment.
Thanks!
Have a Great Scouting Day! 

Categories: Backpacking, blog, camp skills, Camping, comments, Cooking, gear, High Adventure, Just fun, Leave no trace, Methods, Philmont, Scouting, Scoutmaster minute, Scouts, Skills, training | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Philmont Poem

philmontAs you all know I love Philmont.  I found this poem on the internet.  It is penned by author James Roberts.  As I read the poem it took me back… back to the Silver on the Sage, the Country that I love.. Philmont.
Enjoy…

Philmont

When I walk in the forest
In my backyard
During the day,
I feel the breeze against my head,
And I hear birds chirping,
And squirrels squeaking,
And rabbits coming right out of the bushes,
And deer walking slowly on the underbrush.

And, when night comes,
I look up at the night sky,
And see so many stars,
That they remind me of New Mexico,
Where that special place
Will always be
Forever in my mind,
The place I remember,
As Philmont.

It was Philmont Scout Ranch,
Where Boy Scouts
And Venturers
Come from all over the country
To go into the backcountry,
And loving the wilderness
That comes with it.

Philmont is for backpackers,
Who love to hike
And see the wilderness
And all its glorious beauty,
And for those who
Love nature
And cannot get enough of it.

Philmont is one of those
Special places for me,
Something that I will always remember,
And something
I can never let go of.

I remember Philmont quite well,
With all the wilderness,
And not a single person in sight.
I remember it well,
And I can share with you
Its unique description.

Philmont,
God’s Country,
As many people have called it,
Was inhabited by many,
Such as the Pueblo Indians,
Who inhabited the land for centuries;
The Spanish conquistadors
Who were looking for God, glory, and gold;
Kit Carson and the mountaineers,
Who shot and trapped their game;
Lucien Maxwell,
Who was in charge of the Maxwell Land Grant;
And Waite Philips,
Who owned the place,
And gave it to the Boy Scouts of America.

Philmont is more than the
People who just hiked the trails;
It is the experiences there,
And the wildlife
And the wilderness itself
That makes it truly unique.

How I remember the mountains,
And all of their rocky features,
Covering the horizon,
Making an excellent view when
You summit them.

How I remember the T-Rex track,
that monstrous foot
That once belonged to a monster
That lived long ago.

How I remember the wildlife,
All the birds that sing in the morning,
And all the crickets that
Chirp at night,
And all of the owls that hooed
In the darkness
And the coyotes that howled at the moon,
And the deer that
Wandered in the sunlight,
Feeding off the meadows,
And eating all of the grass,
Looking so graceful
In their wild herds,
With no fear of humans
Whatsoever.

How I remember the rivers,
That streamed through the mountains,
And all of their fresh,
Cold water,
That refreshed one
After he took a drink.
And how the meadows grew around them,
With their excellent beauty.

How I remember the meadows,
Filled with wildflowers
Of every kind,
Such as daisy fleabanes,
Oxeye daisies,
Dragonheads,
Primrose,
Roses,
Sneezeweeds of every sort,
Smartweeds,
Buttercups,
Lilies of every specimen,
Sunflowers,
Vanity Fleabanes,
And Black-eyed Susans,
With all sorts of flowers
To even dream of,
Making a landscape
That looked like a painting
That someone like
Claude Monet
or Vincent Van Gogh
Would paint
To his desire.

How I remember the vegetation,
The beautiful trees that existed,
Including the aspens,
And the pines,
And the oaks,
And the birches,
And the maples,
And the chestnut trees,
And the firs,
And the spruces,
And the beautiful trees
That hold every sort of wildlife
Imaginable.

How I remember Mt. Baldy,
And the great view from up top
The great rocky mountain,
The Rocky Mountain of the Rocky Mountains,
With the greatest climb,
Up to 12,000 feet,
In which there was everything to see,
For I remember the great view,
All the beautiful mountains beneath us,
And the trail that took us down,
And the towns that one could see from
Far away,
And all the people walking in the distance,
Making their way up top,
Or looking like periods from so far away,
That they seemed to be about their daily lives.

How I remember the Tooth of Time,
That crazy molar that existed
Atop of a rock,
That we climbed at 4: 00 am,
Just to see the sunrise,
But we made it at 10,000 ft,
And saw the morning sunrise,
And how I remember seeing Cimarron,
The village right below,
And Base Camp,
Where we would be heading that morning,
And all the traffic that was there,
As well.

The sunrise was so beautiful,
From what I could see,
I saw the glowing first light,
And then the big ball of fire,
Creeping into the night sky,
Lighting the world,
As morning came to be.

How I remember the tall tales,
Of those who were there before us,
Such as the loggers
Who worked for the Continental Logging Company,
Who worked for days and nights,
With little pay and little rest,
And not much food to eat;
The Pueblano Boys who started their first union,
Who fought for their rights,
But then the company went out of business
In 1932,
And there was nothing left for them;
The Miners who worked for French Henry,
Who dug the gold out of Aztec Ponil
In 1922,
And suffered many hardships,
As many of them died,
For they had nothing left,
Or even to live on;
The ranchers who lived at Clarke’s Fork,
Who branded all their cattle,
And branded all of their horses,
In 1951,
And ran their business better
Than any of the miners or loggers did,
For they all had a better share
Than any of their predecessors;
The railmen who worked on the railroad,
Throughout the 1870s,
Who worked day and night,
Assembled many,
And suffered hardships,
And many deaths;
And the Risches,
The pioneers,
Who came down in 1898,
Who wanted freedom
And a new life,
And started a settlement
On land of their own.

All these people had big dreams,
But they all suffered,
And they all made it,
Somehow or another.

How I remember the mini-bears,
Those things that steal your food,
For they are aggressive little things,
And they steal your food no matter what.
What are they, you ask?
Well, they’re the rodents of the forest
And of the meadow,
Whether they be the chipmunks in the ground,
The squirrels in the trees,
The mice in the abandoned cabin,
The rabbits in the burrow,
The weasels in the den,
The gophers in the ranch,
The prairie dogs in the desert,
The groundhogs in the forest,
The rats in the trees,
The beavers in the river,
The muskrat in the pond,
Or the raccoons in the treetrunk.
The always like to steal your food,
No matter what,
So you better look out,
Or they will surely get you.

How I remember the Red Roof Inn,
That awful thing they call a loo,
Where smells worse than B.O.
Cause one to throw up,
And where defecation and TP,
Go inside the pit,
Where decomposition is
Good for the environment,
And the ecosystem,
They claim,
And where there are walls back-to-back,
And there are two-person pilot planes,
And there are no walls
And exposure to the wilderness;
For they are the most awful
But necessary
Piece of hardware out there.

How I remember the BO,
Since we could not wear deodorant,
And we had to hide the smellables,
For how much I knew we stank,
And we had limited showers,
It was Jack London calling us,
And I felt just like him,
As he was inspired
With ‘Call of the Wild’.

Philmont is God’s Country,
‘Tis a place I shall never forget,
With all of its beauty and majesty,
There is nothing that could beat it,
And it is special due to its experience,
And everything that happened,
I loved every minute of it,
And go back to God’s Country,
Once again,
For God is always watching over us,
As we go to that beloved place
That we call Scouting Paradise.

James Roberts

 

Categories: Backpacking, camp skills, Camping, High Adventure, Philmont | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

IWGBTP

DSCN0449

Sitting here this morning going through some Scouting Pictures and getting my stuff ready for the Red and Green Dinner today I clicked on one of the Blogs that I follow.  It is Mr. Harrison’s Blog.  Now, the blog itself is not updated often, but I really don’t mind because every time I go to his blog it’s about Philmont!  And today on Google + David Copeland shared a video about Philmont.  Now I want to go back to Philmont.  The smell of the sage and the views of the canyon country are calling me.  I wanna go back to PHILMONT!
Philmont is a special place.  Each and every person that goes to Philmont will have his own experience and memories.  Each member of the crew will walk out of Philmont having achieved something.  Mentally, Physically, and Spiritually.  Each person will find something within themselves that will have been found or changed while on the trail at Philmont.  The beauty, the challenge, the crew that you are with all leave a lasting impact on your life.
Philmont is not just a backpacking trip, it is a life transforming event.  Our crew, by and large went into the Philmont Under the Dining Flyexperience to go backpacking.  After it was all over and now in Scoutmaster conferences two years later, Philmont is that single event in our Scouts lives that made a difference.  I have had the pleasure of watching growth in Scouts that went to Philmont vs. Scouts that have not yet attended.  And the results are pretty amazing.  Testing their leadership and their ability to follow.  Skills and endurance, self-reliance and the ability to stop and take in the moment.  That is often lost in the world that we live in today.  I had a wonderful experience at Philmont and can not wait to get back.  For myself and to watch the growth in the Scouts that take me along for the journey!
Get your Troop signed up for a trek to Philmont.  It will make all the difference in your Scouting life as well as that of your Troop.
Have a Great Scouting Day!

DSCN0372

Me at Cimmeron Cito camp

Categories: camp skills, Camping, High Adventure, Just fun, Leadership, Philmont | Tags: | 2 Comments

How far is it?

Under the Dining Fly

It was our third night on the trail at Philmont.  We had hiked into Harlan Camp from Dean Cow that afternoon.  It was a monster hike taking us out of Dean canyon, under the highway, over the Cimarron river and then back up through Vaca Camp and then into Harlan.  We got into camp with enough time for the crew to reload shot-gun shells and then shoot some.  After camp was set up and dinner cooked, it was time for the Burro racing event and then settling into our nightly in camp routine.  Part of that routine was our nightly round of Roses, Thorns, and Buds.  A great time of reflection and a nice time to get something off your chest.  By day three on the trail we were all dealing with what they call “Day Three syndrome” at Philmont.  In reality it didn’t really hit our crew that hard, but the back to back long days and lots of miles were taking its toll on the crew this evening.
After the Burro racing, the crew made its way back to camp and got the “oops bag” hung.  As was the common trend the rain was heading in for the evening.  We dodged it on the hike that day, but the clouds rolled in quick and it began to thunder.  The crew thought it may be a good idea to do Roses and Thorns under the dinning fly.  Now if you have never been to Philmont you may be thinking pop up or big tarp.  Nay Nay.. at Philmont the dining fly is about 3 feet off the ground.  It is a 12 X 12 tarp with grommets all around.  It is pitched low using trekking poles.  It is the first thing to be set up in camp and is the host of the crews toilet paper for those trips to the Red Roof Inn in the middle of the night.
Needless to say it is a tight fit when you get a whole crew under the fly… but we did it.  We got under right as the rain started.
And it rained, hard.  And the thunder boomed, and then the lightning started.  A spectacular show of light in the sky.  The crashing of the thunder kept the Scouts of the crew oohing and awhing why we shared our Roses and Thorns.  The show really picked up as we wrapped up our nightly discussion, but the rain was telling us to stay put.  So, as darkness fell on our camp, the jokes added to the symphony in the sky.  All the while one member of our crew took the time to count the flash to boom.  Announcing each lightning strike with the distance.  It started to get funny as the distance announcement seemed to always follow the punch line of a joke.  Then, just when we thought the laughter could not get more loud, here came the gas.  Yep, whatever we had for dinner started to revisit us in the form of an aroma that would gag a skunk.
And the rain kept coming down, harder still and the lightning became more frequent.  And then it was a flash of light, a boom of thunder, a fart, and .. “Wow!  That one was 1 mile away”.    Then again, a flash, a boom, a fart… “Wow that one was 6 miles away!”.. and then a Flash, a boom, a fart.. and another voice chimed in.. “Wow! That one was three feet away!”  An eruption of laughter!  It was laughter that I had not heard in years.  The crew laughed so hard most of us were in tears.
Then silence.  Just the sound of rain on the tarp, the crash of thunder, and the sighs of a group of backpackers that were having the time of their lives.
We laid there under that tarp for another hour or so and finally it was time to get to our tents.  The rain never let up that night and as we climbed into our sleeping bags the only sound we heard besides the rain was voices from inside the tents looking forward to another great day on the trail at Philmont.
It started to sprinkle here today, for just a minute.  And just for a minute I thought of that night at Harlan camp.  A flash, a boom, and a fart.. How far was that?
          Have a Great Scouting Day!

Categories: Backpacking, Camping, Just fun, Philmont, stories | Tags: , | 1 Comment

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