Continue to Day 5
Day Three, From Rayado River Camp to Crags Camp
Everyone was awake and out of their tents by 5:45 this morning. As
a matter of fact I was the last one to get my tent down. Someone
brought down the bear bags so that we could get to our breakfast
quickly.
Breakfast was easy this morning. We had Frosted Flakes, Milk,
Chocolate and Coffee. There was also the famous Pemican Bar. Most
people don't seem to care much for the Pemican Bar. It is a lot
like Fruit Cake, kind of heavy and chewy. I pocketed mine for
later on the trail.
I set up my Peak 1 and boiled some water for the Chocolate and
Coffee. The stove worked fine and we had hot water in minutes.
The clean up was minimal with only personal cups and bowls to worry
about. However, we had made a fire the night before for the
cobbler, which left us with a fire pit full of charcoal. Not a
pretty site.
Sam gathered us around the fire pit to show us how to take care
of the problem. He showed us how to break the chunks of charcoal
into tiny pieces and scoop them onto the burlap of the bear bags.
This took a little time, but as we worked Sam explained that we had
to leave the site better than we had found it so that others who
might follow us could enjoy the site as we had.
Part of his lesson included an explanation of the consequences of
leaving a fire pit full of charcoal. In case of a forest fire,
inspectors would check our pit to see if we were the culprits that
started the forest fire. To prove our innocence we must clean the
pit of all charcoal and leave an unburned indicator stick standing
in the center of the pit. That indicator stick will reveal that
the fire did not start from our pit.
After we had collected all of the charcoal on the bear bags it was
taken into the woods and spread amongst the bushes so that it would
blend in with the sand and leaves. Then we swept the ground around
the site and spread pine needles and leaves so that it looked like
no one had been there. When we came on camp sites later we would
remark when some looked used and some had been properly cared for.
It took some time to get the remaining food into the packs and
ready to travel. We could begin to see where we would have
problems in the days to come. Ted was using cord to tie things to
his backpack which was taking extra time. Everyone seemed to
overlook something and we would have to encourage each other to
help whoever was having problems. Usually the first reaction was,
"That's not my pack," or "That's his tent." Teamwork was going to
be something to work on.
After setting up a search line for a final sweep of the site,
we shouldered our packs, took a look back at a perfect site, and
hit the trail at 7:40.
We didn't bother to fill our water bottles before leaving camp
because we knew there was treated water at Abreu, which we would
pass through in a few minutes. We appeared to be the first group
on the trail that morning. I took some pictures as we crossed the
bridge at Abreu of the stream and the scouts. The sky was already
a bright blue. It was going to be a good day.
We quickly filled all of our water bottles from the pipe near the
cabin and continued up the north side of the Rayado towards Crags
Camp.
After hiking for about a mile we re-crossed the Rayado near Old
Abreu Camp and began to climb.
Our hike on the first day had been a piece of cake. We had hiked
along a road for about a mile through grassy prairie. Then we had
gone another mile along an easy trail that followed the Rayado
through Pinyon and Juniper.
The hike today was á good climb from 7200 feet to 8400 feet in
about 2 miles. The feel here was much like our own Cascades in
Oregon. As we climb, the vegetation changes and we begin to see
the Colorado Blue Spruce. At open points we could see Fowler Mesa,
Rayado Peak, and Crater Peak as well as the trail we had followed
the day before.
Shortly after 10:00 we arrived at the Notch. The place is named
for the spot where the trail cuts through a rocky ridge and the
Pines are old and contorted from the heavy winters that must come
to this spot. This site is used in campfire stories because it is
rugged and beautiful with an impressive drop off that is a surprise
when you come around the corner of the Notch.
Zach thought he was getting a hot spot so we take some time to rest
while he removed his boot. His foot looked OK, but we had him
change to some dry socks to see if that might help. It did. While
we were resting, Sam talked Stewart into eating ants with him. He
says you need to pinch the heads off first, otherwise they will
bite you.
We have determined that our sister crew is about a 1/2 mile behind
us and decide to push on. It is our intention to get to Crags Camp
first so that we can get first choice for a camp site.
At 11:10 we get to the Crags trail junction and start down to the
camp. In 10 minutes we are back down to the Rayado again and are
the first in camp. On the map we see that the drop was about 400
feet, which we will have to regain the next morning. My feet and
knees hurt some going down, which gave me come concern. After
inspecting my own feet I determined that I had no blisters and
would probably survive my adventure.
After checking out all of the camp sites we selected one across the
river under some Hemlock and mixed evergreens, and decided to have
lunch before setting up the tents and rain fly.
Sam tells us we should always look for a pleasant place to rest and
eat. We chose to sit by the river. Lunch consisted of Libby's
Spreadables. Ours was Chicken Salad with Club Crackers, Oreo
Cookies, and Orange Drink mix. It was a good lunch. The site
of our lunch break had been visited by someone else recently,
because we found the remains of a hot dog in the sand. This
surprised Sam for several reasons. It had not been eaten by
criters, it is not part of Philmont fair, and it certainly should
not have been left on the ground. A mystery.
At about 12:30 the sky began to darken. We ran to get our tents
up. All was accomplished by 12:45 when it began to sprinkle. We
quickly retired to the tents to wait out the rain and contemplate
our experiences thus far. Sam seems to be pleased with our
performance both on the trail and in camp. He had been on this
trail with another new crew just a few days ago and could make a
good comparison. Sam is a very knowledgeable 20 year old from
Alabama with a delightful Southern drawl. Everyone likes his
stories and easy way of handling situations. He has had several
trips to Philmont and you can tell that he enjoys scouting.
By 1:20 there is lots of lightning and thunder, with a steady rain.
We are thankful that we got the tents and rainfly up so quickly.
Picture Post Card of Philmonô High Adventure Country, post mark June
23, 1992.
Marian, 6/20/92 |
Have arrived at 2nd camp. All are |
in tents, waiting out an afternoon |
rain shower. All well. Country is |
beautiful. Temperature at 1:30pm |
is 65. No mosquitoes. Lots of |
flowers, birds, and different trees. |
We saw Antelope on the plains, | Marian Veley
and deer in the meadows. | 1639 Bullevard
Rayado Creek where we are now | Philomath
camped is a beautiful little | OR 97370
mountain stream tumbling over |
rocks and around willows and |
Aspen. You would love it to.
Bill & Zach
Picture Post Card of Sunset at Philmont, post mark Jun 23, 1992.
Hi Mom, |
I'm having fun how |
how about you. Everything about |
this camp is awesome. I hope | Marian Veley
everything is all right with | 1639 Bullevard
you and Alex. The country | Philomath
out here is beautiful and I | OR 97370
wish you were out here to. |
Zach Veley |
By 2:00 it has stopped so I decided to get up and see how everyone
did in the rain. Our crew was doing well as was our sister crew
which had set up camp at a spot up the hill from us, but out of our
line of sight.
The rest of the afternoon is easy. Some of the boys go fishing
along the stream. Others just rest or explore the nearby area. I
discover that a gravel bar near the stream is made up of Feldspar,
Quartz, and Mica. Some of these I pocket to turn into neckerchief
slides back home. I choose small ones.
After a lazy afternoon we started dinner at about 4:30. Our meal
would be Pinto Beans, Enchiladas, and Chocolate Pudding. I ran the
stove and we cooked in plastic bags, using the "Backpacker" to save
on clean up and fuel. It worked pretty well. The weather was
still threatening so we decided to cook under the rainfly. That
proved to be a good decision.
About half way through dinner, it got real dark and began to drop
hail the size of marbles. It quickly turned the ground white and
there were puddles of rain water everywhere. We had to find high
ground under our rainfly.
Dinner was well received by everyone, but we could tell that both
Rangers didn't like the wet and cold. On the first night out they
had slept out without a tent. We were not sure if they even had
a tent. But tonight, they came up with a tent which they quickly
went to and did not come out of until morning.
Being from Oregon and used to wet winter camping it was not a
problem for us. Our guys took it all in stride, but were in their
tents by 7:00pm. Some would stay there until morning. I took
advantage of the quiet and went over to visit with a crew from
Kansas to see how they were doing. They had been on the trail when
the hail hit and said it hurt. Ted told me later, that he had been
hit on the finger nail by a piece of hail and it also hurt for a
long time.
In a fairly short time the precipitation stopped and the birds
began to sing. It was cool but not unpleasant. Others soon joined
me for a stroll along the gravel bar and stream. It always smells
good after a storm in the high country. By now, the camp sites had
all been filled. One group came in just at dusk and set up right
next to us. That was the only time we would have neighbors so
close over the next 10 days.
I had set my new Sphinx tent up right on the edge of the bank,
overlooking the stream. I could hear the Rayado bouncing over the
rocks and an occasional thunder clap in the distance. During the
worst of the storm the thunder had been very loud, but now it is
soothing. I adjust my sleeping bag and settle myself. Even though
it will be a long night, I will sleep well. My mental check lists
don't seem so long this night. We have done a good job of getting
ourselves prepared. It is my perception that we are all having a
great time.
Day Four, Crags Camp to Lost Cabin Camp
I was up this morning at the first bird call. All was clear after
last evenings storm. After my morning toilet I strung a clothes
line between the trees in a spot that was likely to catch the sun
if we were still in camp when the sun came up. We were down in a
pretty deep canyon, so I wasn't sure we would see the sun very
soon. I hung some things to dry in the air while we prepared
breakfast and cleaned the camp site.
Sam and Kevin rolled out and began looking for items that they had
misplaced the night before when the storm hit. Sam had a camp
spoon that was similar to mine and had picked mine up by mistake.
I pointed this out and we corrected the problem. Breakfast was to
be eggs, hashbrowns, and Bacon Bits cooked in the "BackPacker", but
the rangers were anxious to finish our crew training and get back
on the trail. We would continue on our trek and they would return
to Base Camp to begin the training of new crews. Sam said
something about needing to catch the bus, but I suspect he really
wanted to get back to Abreu to talk to Abby.
At any rate, Sam called us all together and administered the
Wilderness Pledge to our crew, which was his last duty to us. At
that time we presented him with our Troop 2 patch that Alex had
designed with the explanation that it was unique and only a special
few people outside of our Troop received one. We thanked him for
his service to us and then he and Kevin departed for Base Camp.
Breakfast went well. The eggs and hashbrowns really hit the spot.
There was also a Power Bar included in the meal which I would
pocket and save for later when we took a rest break on the trail.
While the guys were cleaning up the pots and pans, I took my
clothes down and folded the Sphinx tent. Everything was nicely
dry. The dome style tent is really nice to dry out because it can
be turned over and moved around to where a breeze or the sun can
speed the drying process.
The other crew just walked out of camp at 8:54. We are about ready
to police the area and make sure that the site looks undisturbed,
then we will also head out.
We are about 15 minutes behind the other crew and reach the
junction to Crag Camp at 10:24. It took us 14 minutes to climb the
400 feet back up from the Rayado River to the main trail. We
paused only long enough to remove excess clothing. Everyone wanted
to catch up to the other crews, so we set out immediately.
35 minutes later we took a "packs off break" on a rocky point just
down stream from Fish Camp. I ate a Pemmican bar while we checked
the map and identified some of the land marks. Across the canyon
we could see Crater Peak and a little farther along, Lookout Peak.
Stewart pulled out his Philmont Field Guide which gave us good
information about what we were seeing. We could clearly see that
the Crags on the flanks of Crater Peak were the remains of an
ancient volcano. This area in the Rayado Canyon really reminded us
of the Menagerie Wilderness on the Santiam River in Oregon.
The trail is more interesting now, passing through fir and pines at this
point. The contour lines on the map indicate that the river is
rising and that by the time we reach Fish Camp the trail and the
river will come together. From our present position we can see
that the river is still far below us, so we will have to travel a
while before reaching Fish Camp.
The sky is clear blue above and we can see deep pools in the river
below that beckon to the fishermen among us. Fish Camp is
legendary in Philmont history and we are anxious to see it for
ourselves, so we shoulder the packs and strike out again.
The short break gave us our energy back and we take off at a good
clip with the trail beginning to drop a little. We can see that
the river is beginning to appear closer, but still a good way down
in the canyon. Stewart and I both caution the scouts to think
about the conditions and to watch where they place their feet. A
mistake here would be disaster.
We move quickly along the trail and from time to time we catch a
glimpse of the river, rising up to meet us. The river is closer
now and from the way the trees appear on the far side of the canyon
we can tell that our goal is not far ahead.
Suddenly we round a corner and find a clearing with green grass and
the blue Rayado bouncing over polished rocks. Ahead we can just
see the tops of the cabins at Fish Camp and a rustic log foot
bridge where we will cross the stream. Someone gives a holler that
they have seen our sister crew ahead and sure enough, there is Jay
Williams with a fish pole and a big smile on his face. He was
headed for one of the cabins where a fly tying demonstration is
taking place.
We had arrived just before the staff was about to take a lunch
break and we would be unable to get into the program at that time.
We set up a pack line against a large stump and a decision was made
to have our lunch as well while we waited for the staff to finish
theirs.
I'm always surprised at how quickly the scouts can get the food out
for these trail lunches. This was no exception. The large stump,
which was 3 or 4 foot in diameter, made a perfect table and we soon
had Ritz Crackers and Squeeze Cheese all around. We also had
individual packets of strawberry and walnut Fruit Festives for a
desert. I chose to pocket mine for a snack later on the trail.
While we were eating our lunch, several other trail crews came
along and decided to have their lunch also. Some of these crews
were near the end of their treks and had the look and confidence of
seasoned trail crews. The adults boasted scraggly beards and the
youngsters wore clothing that looked to be from another time.
These guys looked like they should be tired but were quickly
finished with their lunch and off to the program.
Another crew came through at that time that we learned had been out
on the trail for about 6 or 7 days. They seemed to be having quite
a few problems figuring out what they wanted to do and who was to
do it. The adult leaders came in a little later and were red in
the face from the trail. I overheard one of the scouts ask another
where they were and the reply came quickly with force, "Check you
damn map." Our crew had not arrived at that time in our trek when
everything falls apart and survival seems highly unlikely. I had
to smile at this as I remembered a similar time from my first trip
to Philmont. I knew that our crew would also experience
frustration in a few more days.
My water filter was beginning to clog up some with the stream
water. When the water runs fast it carries too much sediment and I
was having trouble getting good clear water from which to draw my
needed supply. There was treated water at Fish Camp coming right
out of a pipe, but the taste of the iodine was a little strong. We
we were glad to have some drink mix to cover the bad taste. Bad
taste is my opinion. I have heard some say that they actually like
the taste of the treated water. I much prefer the taste of the
filtered water and will take the time to clean my pump filter soon.
About this time, Jonathan ate his first ant at Stewart's urging and
with the support of our entire crew. He reported that it tasted
quite good, so now he is laughing at those of us who haven't had
our first taste yet.
We noticed that Fish Camp has solar panels to heat their showers.
None of us were ready for a shower yet. Everyone knows that I am
sweet and can get along without a shower for much longer than the
average bear.
At last, the staff is back from their lunch and we can take a tour
of the lodge. This was Waite Philips personal fishing lodge and is
where the name Fish Camp came from. Every piece of furniture has
been made by hand. The wood is dark and really very elegant. The
tour included a look into claw marks where a bear had tried to get
at them through a window just a few days before. The window frames
had been reinforced with steel bars and the staff had decided that
they would still make use of the bear bags to get their smellables
safely away from where they slept.
At about 1:15 we took up our packs and started for Lost Cabin Camp.
On the way out of Fish Camp we could see the foundation where the
cook cabin had been washed out by floods years ago. Then we passed
by the stables where Waite Philips had kept his horses when he
brought guests to his fishing lodge. They were in poor repair and
seemed small by modern day standards.
At this point we left the Rayado and headed west up the Aqua Fria
Creek and passed by Bear Canyon. Aqua Fria was a beautiful creak
that wandered over a wide expanse of washed stones and gravel.
Every so often we passed a clear pool where the stones shown like
gems. In one of these pools we saw what we think was a muskrat,
but we weren't sure. Some said it was a small beaver, which is
possible, because a little farther on we came to some very large
beaver dams with large ponds behind them. The dams were
constructed from White Burch of Quaking Aspen as we call them here
in the West. Some of the Aspen that the beaver had felled around
the pond were as much as 2 feet in diameter.
At one of these ponds we happened on to some fishermen that were
familiar with the area and told us that Aqua Fria Lake was stocked
with trout and so the fishing in these ponds was very good. Our
map showed us that the lake was just a few miles up stream out side
of the Philmont boundary. We would not see the lake because at
this point our trail turned abruptly north and we began what seemed
like a long slow climb up to Lost Cabin Camp. In reality it was
only a few hundred feet, but with full backpacks, a warm day, and
an elevation of 9,200 feet it seemed like miles.
We started the climb from the beaver ponds at 2:30 in the afternoon
and reached a trail junction near the top at 2:54. To the left was
the trail to Apache Springs and Apache Peak at only 9,872 feet. We
marked that and took the trail to the right for Lost Cabin Camp
where we arrived at 3:05.
The Lost Cabin Camp is located in several beautiful green meadows
surrounded by 3 or 4 types of alpine evergreens. There is a small
brook about 3 feet wide that runs through the meadows. Mixed in
with the evergreens are the white Quaking Aspen standing about 50
feet tall. The meadows are full of daisies, Iris, and several
deferent yellow flowers.
We selected our camp site and took our time setting up. The climb
up from the beaver ponds on Aqua Fria Creek had taken our energy.
Earlier we had talked about taking a side trip to climb Apache
Peak, but no one seemed interested after our struggle to get to
these meadows. After I had set up my tent I took advantage of the
quiet to stretch out my sleeping pad and grab a short nap. Others
were doing the same.
It was a comfortable 75 degrees with a light breeze playing across
the meadows at times rising to stir the trees then falling back to
stillness. It was a perfect place to watch the brilliantly white
cumulus clouds race by and to listen to the wind whip around the
trees. The sound of the wind would change depending on the type of
trees it was passing through. The Aspen had a papery sound and the
evergreens made almost a roar at times. I took some time to write
notes to myself so that I would not forget this most pleasant
place.
It was while I was writing my notes that someone yelled out, "Hey,
look at the squirrels fighting." We all watched with fascination
the struggle that was taking place in our meadow, not more than 20
feet away. Although the combatants looked well matched, we soon
realized that this was not the case. It turned out that a Long
Tail Weasel was about to make dinner out of a Golden Mantled Ground
Squirrel. In a way it was sad, but we all understood that it was a
natural predator and prey event. We approached to within about 10
or 12 feet to get a better look, which made the weasel a little
nervous. He finished off the squirrel quickly then popped down a
hole. We then moved away so as not to disturb him further. After
a bit he came back and retrieved his dinner and that was the last
we saw of either hunter or hunted. What an adventure.
Our dinner that night was macaroni and cheese with bread sticks.
It tasted great and we felt like we were really well suited for the
wilderness. We finished our dinner with a very tasty fruit cobbler
then did our clean up.
The scouts had time to explore on their own and at dusk we adults
set out to find the Lost Cabin for which the camp was named. This
we accomplished in the half light without much difficulty. It was
located near the top of one of the meadows in the very place I
would have built it if I had been the first person to stumble into
the meadow. We stood where the door way would have been and looked
out across the meadow and could imagine deer grazing or a pack
horse frolicking. Each of us wondered what the original settlers
must have felt when looking at this view. The cabin was now
deteriorating and the old logs were melting back into the earth.
This was our first chance to be away from the boys since we had
left base camp. We discussed how things were going and what we
needed to do to make things go a little smoother. We agreed that
the leaders were struggling in different ways to make things
happen. Rusty seemed prepared, but the guys were balking at some
of his demands. Kelsey on the other hand seemed not prepared, but
the guys were more comfortable with his quiet method of leadership.
We knew that this was part of the experience and felt that all in
all things were going pretty well.
The light began to fail us and for awhile we quietly watched the
lightening flashing through the darkening cumulus clouds. It was
not threatening a storm, just rumbling and giving up it's energy.
What a beautiful time and place to be. We made our way back to
camp in the dark and found that the boys were in their tents and
already quiet. Perfect. I crawled into my tent and began to go over
what I needed to do in the morning. I drifted off into sleep and
don't remember finishing those last thoughts.
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