:Literary Incontinence

I am having an incredible time. I’ll try to pick up where I left off on the last post and cover everything… if I can.

My last set of days off was spent up at Rich Cabins. Rich is located just off of Philmont property in the Carson National Forrest. The program there is interpretive homesteading, which means everything (or everything visible to campers) is “period.” The staff there this year is pretty incredible. They portray a family of Austrian immigrants from the 1800s, and while none of them are Austrian (or immigrants), they do a great job of staying in character. What really sets this camp apart from all others though, is the music. I’ll get to that later.

The road up to Rich Cabins is an adventure in itself. It is one of the roughest “public” roads I’ve ever seen. You may be able to get down it without 4wd, but if you don’t have good clearance you can forget it. I was a little apprehensive about this drive as you may remember that I’m not behind the wheel of my Explorer anymore. I bought an ‘04 Honda Pilot right before coming down to Philmont, and had never taken it off-road before. I was very cautious on that first drive up there, taking the stream crossings very slowly and getting out to take stock of any difficult looking parts. I ended up being pleasantly surprised with the Honda’s ability off road. It certainly isn’t as rugged as the ’splora, but it was able to get four of us up the road to Rich Cabins effortlessly.

Upon our arrival at the parking lot, we didn’t immediately hike into the camp. Our first destination was the top of Wilson Mesa. This is a fairly remote part of Philmont that not a lot of people get the opportunity to see. It is also known as a pretty steep and strenuous hike. Our band dropped our big packs, threw some essentials in daypacks, and headed up. The top was lovely. I really thought for a while just now in an effort to come up with a more apt word than “lovely,” but you’re just going to have to take my word for it - if I resort to using the word “lovely,” it must have been. The top of the mesa is large - several square miles. There are a few small lakes scattered about as well as some very old farm equipment. It also presents one of the best views of Mt. Baldy on the ranch.

After some lunch and some exploring, we started back down. A while later, hiking into the camp presented quite the the welcome sight. The cabin, barn, corrals, and windmill are all really picturesque. We were greeted warmly by the staff, and immediately invited to dinner. I’ve always loved large “family style” meals, mostly for the socialization opportunities that they facilitate. Being in the backcountry makes this kind of meal so much more enjoyable. It’s really hard to describe to those that have never been there, but there’s an “old world” kind of feeling there. I’ve spent the last several minutes trying to put it into words and it aint’ happening. You’ll just have to get out to Philmont sometime in order to understand.

After an incredible “campfire” program on the front porch of the cabin, we hung out with the staff for a bit then went to bed. We crashed on the floor of the Rich Cabin, and awoke early the next morning. Bryce and I packed up our daypacks once again and headed out up the other canyon wall this time. Instead of taking a trail, we shot straight up the wall in a river washout. Once we reached the top, up into the Valle Vidal, we were greeted with a strange sight.

Laid out before us were miles and miles of hilly land that was covered with burnt tree trunks. There were no leaves, no shade, and only a little green spread across the ground which consisted mostly of scrub oak. This was all leftover from the Ponil Complex Fire of 2002 - the largest fire in New Mexico state history. Most of the trees were still standing, but quite a few had fallen down. It was impossible, over the next several hours, to go around them all and Bryce and I ended up climbing over several hundred fallen trees during the next leg of our trek. Our destination was Beatty Lakes, up in the Valle.

Despite being in the middle of a thought, I’m going to post this. I’ve been writing this one entry for over a week now and it’s getting a little ridiculous. Many more adventures await our hero - stay tuned!

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Again, it’s been longer than I had planned on between posts. I wish I had a better excuse, but the honest reason is “I’ve been way too busy.”

I’m “on call” as I write now, but things are quiet for the time being. I’m hoping that it stays that way - I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in quite a while. I just got out of the shower, my first in four days. Apparently, someone had taken it upon themselves to “adjust” our hot water heater several days ago. Their intentions were good, I’m sure, but the result has been a distinct lack of any water that even comes close to resembling “hot.” I hate taking cold showers, especially when the only times I have to take showers are early in the morning and late in the evening when the desert cools way down. Calls to maintenance have been to no avail.

Several things of note have happened since I last posted. I’ll try to mash out a quick summary of some of them.

I found myself involved in a SAR from the “operations” side of things last week. I was having an “out of office” day up in the mountains, surveying snow conditions on top of Mount Phillips with two friends. We had barely sat out from our drop-off point when the call went out on the radio that there was a scout in distress near the peak of Phillips. I think all of us had a pretty good idea right away that we’d get wrapped up in things somehow. We continued up canyons and peaks to our destination, monitoring the radio traffic as we went.

Several hours later, we reached the peak to find the scout and his crew still there. I got to perform an abbreviated field assessment and even use a stethoscope, haha! I determined that the scout was in no immediate danger, despite his subjective report of being an “8″ out of ten on the pain scale. I told him that I was no expert, but that my guess based on the information I had was that he had developed bronchitis. Forty-five minutes later, when the medic arrived, she said almost the exact same thing, which made me feel pretty good. I haven’t got to use my EMT training a whole lot since becoming certified, and it was nice to have that kind of validation.

The rest of my “out of office day” was spent hiking back to the Cimarroncito Turnaround from Mt. Phillips. All in all, it was another 20-mile day for me, though this time was over much more rugged terrain than my Beaubien day. We got back to the car at about midnight, after stopping at Cypher’s Mine for dinner and to see their evening program called The Stomp. I have to put in a shout out to Cypher’s Mine - their staff was incredibly hospitible. We came walking into camp just as they were sitting down to dinner and they went out of their way to make room - and more food - for us. They’re now tied with Beaubien for Dave’s “Most Hospitable Staff” award.

The hike from there down to the turnaround was by moonlight again. It was nice being with people, since we were hiking down the same canyon where I had been stalked by a mountain lion in 2003. At that time, I was also hiking at night, but I had been alone. All things being equal, I like having other people with me better, hehe. I was exhausted and sore afterwards, but it was not nearly as bad as my previous 20-mile day. I’ve got pics from this day that I’ll get around to posting somewhere… sometime… soon. Probably. Maybe. I hope.

I was happy to entertain my first guests of the summer last weekend - my parents came down to hang out for a few days. They hopped on the train in KC and rode it to Raton, where I had the Phil-Shuttle pick them up. From there, they took my car down to Albuquerque to visit my Grandma there for a few days. On the way back though, they spent some time with me around CHQ here and some of the nearby towns. It was great to see them, and a wonderful way to spend my first two REAL days off of the season. On Monday I gave them a ride up to Raton to catch their train headed home.

On the way back from Raton, I was met with a strange sight: smoke coming off of Tooth Ridge. It took me a few miles to convince myself that it was indeed smoke I was seeing, and I pulled over and snapped some pictures of it for proof. I headed right for the radio room as soon as I got back to CHQ, partly in case I could be of any help, and partly (maybe mostly) because I wanted to know what was going on.

All in all, the Tooth-Ridge fire was never more than an acre. The alarm had gone out quickly enough that the helicopter dumping water on it (yes, helicopter. it was pretty sweet.) took care of most of the flames. Apparently the ground crew only had to do mop-up and perimeter. It was a little bit of a close call, especially being so close to base camp, but it was dealt with quickly and professionally.

We had another bit of a scare just today, with a small (and I mean tiny) fire up north. Several teams from staffed camps were able to control the grass fire with just Indian Packs and fire tools before the response teams even got there. Again, we were lucky that it was noticed and reported almost immediately. During the call today, I was in and out of the radio room making phone calls to ranch officials and the local Forrest Rangers. It’s pretty weird to me to be on the “other side” of emergency response. After dealing with grass fires here and there for almost 4 years with Riley County, I did NOT want to be in that radio room just listening to the action tonight. I would have given just about anything to be out there eating smoke and digging trenches. I guess it’s something I’ll have to get used to. I’ve asked a little bit about the Philmont Fire Department, which is all-volunteer… that may be something I’ll have to pursue a little more.

Overall, I’m pretty happy lately when I actually have time to stop and think about my mood. I’m REALLY looking forward to my next set of days off, when I’m going up to the Valle Vidal with some friends for three days! This will be my first time up in the Valle and I can’t wait!

Time to crash, I’ve been writing this on and off all evening and it’s now midnight. Hasta la pasta!

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Wow, a lot has been happening here.  So much I haven’t had time to blog (or call or email…)

D-day came and went on 608.  We’ve now had crews on the trail for 4 days.  Things around the office are going alright.  Logistics is one of the more difficult positions out here, simply because there’s so many different aspects to it.  The staff are picking it up pretty quickly though.  One of the things I’m most impressed by is everyone’s desire to help out: the work ethic leaves absolutely nothing to be desired.  My role so far has been doing a lot of overseeing type things.  I also find myself dealing with a lot of the weird exception, accident, or mistake scenarios that inevitably pop up.  Biggest thing so far: I’ve taken the initiative to declare Fridays “Hawaiian Shirt Day,” so I got that going for me. 

Since the actual work isn’t really what I’m down here for, I won’t be writing about it as much.  My evenings out (when I do go out) have mostly been spent doing a lot more dancing.  My two-step has definitely improved, and my tush-push is pretty fantastic.  Let’s be honest, with a tush like this, how can I go wrong?  I actually had an older lady at PTC pull me aside on Tuesday and tell me that I was “her favorite young man to watch out there.”  Creepy?  Somewhat.  But flattering at the same time.  Several of the guys in my department are really decent dancers, and I’ve gotten to know most of the girls who come to the dances.  It’s a lot more fun when you know most of the people on the dance floor.

I did have another day off the other day.  This makes two total in over three weeks, but who’s counting?  Two of the guys in Logistics and I decided to take a little 1-day tour of the backcountry.  We loaded our packs, drove out to Lover’s Leap Turnaround, and headed out.  Our first destination was Crater Lake, a beautiful camp on a hillside with what is undoubtedly one of the best views of the Tooth of Time on the ranch.  Because it is so early in the season, Crater hadn’t had a single crew come through yet.  In fact, we were probably their first visitors that hadn’t arrived in a 4×4.  We were greeted warmly with a “Hail, who goes there.  State your intentions.”  When we told them that we had brought their mail up for them, they became even more hospitable.  After chatting, snacking, and listening to their staff practice their campfire for a while, on we went.

We had passed a large herd of horses being driven by about 10 wranglers down at the turnaround, and not long after we left Crater Lake we came to the realization that they were headed the same place we were.  This was the horse heard that would live at Beaubien for the summer, providing campers with trail rides.  It was kind of fun sharing the trail with a horse drive for a while, though I began to wish that the wranglers had brought with them an extra saddle so I could just ride along with them.

We went up and over Fowler Pass (a bear of a climb from the Crater side) and began the decent into Beaubien Meadow.  Our eventual arrival in Beaubien was quite a relief.  The Camp Director there is a guy we had met during the several weeks before scatter when the backcountry staff was living in Base Camp.  We were hanging out at the cabin, practicing roping and getting to know the staff, when to our surprise three more backpackers wandered in.  It turned out to be another coworker from Logistics and two friends from the Health Lodge on their days off.  We were further surprised when about twenty minutes later, yet another Logistics staff member wandered out onto the porch of the cabin.  The odds of us all ending up at the same camp at the same time were pretty incredible, and it turned out to be a really cool coincidence.  The Beaubien staff invited us to stay for dinner, which consisted of steak, pork chops, and heaping scoops of mashed potatoes with cheese and ham mixed in.  I won’t lie - it was pretty fantastic.

The two guys I had hiked with and I really wanted to stay and listen to Beaubien practice their campfire that night, but we had to make tracks.  We left the cabin at about 7pm and hiked the ten miles back the way we came, all the way to the turnaround.  It turned out to be a pretty brutal day.  The last mile or two were absolutely horrible.  On a positive note, we had a quarter-moon and a clear sky, so we didn’t even need flashlights as we hiked in.  We arrived back at my car at about midnight.  When I finally got back to my cabin in base camp and hopped in the shower, I could barely stand up.  I actually had to go down on one knee in the shower at one point because my legs were about to buckle.  Total miles: approximately twenty.  Lesson learned: make friends with the wranglers and convince them to loan me a horse or two.  Oh, and a saddle.

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I got a day off! No joke! What did I do with it? Did I sleep in? Do some laundry? Catch up on work? Nope. Yesterday, on my first day off in two weeks, nine of us from the Logistics staff got up at our usual time and took a road trip to Great Sand Dunes National Park! (http://www.nps.gov/grsa/)

Great Sand Dunes National Park is located in south central Colorado, just north of US 160. This curious biome looks completely out of place in North America - it’s something that should be found in the Sahara. The miles and miles of rolling dunes seem to start out of nowhere at the western edge of the Sangre de Christo Mountain Range.

I can’t remember ever being particularly entertained by playing in a sandbox as a kid. I enjoy sand on beaches, when I have a warm ocean at hand to rinse off in, but it’s not typically the “main attraction.” Oddly enough though, this massive sandbox, with the tallest dunes in North America towering 750 feet over us, provided some of the best times I’ve had in a while! Our first task, of course, was climbing to the top of the tallest dune. Easier said than done. Our group of nine Philmont staffers, in excellent shape and very used to hiking, did not quite know what we were in for. First off all, the loose sand

*woah, two deer just appeared RIGHT outside my window and scared the crap out of me*

Anyway… the sand is very fine and very loose. The slopes of the dunes range from about 15 degrees up to probably 55 degrees. Every step you take trying to ascend one of the steeper slopes is in vain, as you find yourself sliding down farther than your previous position. There’s two ways two deal with this. One is to run as fast as you can, trying to keep your feet from sinking and sliping into the sand as much as possible and often using your hands as well. This is exhausting and inefficient, but provides the most direct route. The second is to circumnavigate, trying to stay on the ridgelines of the dunes. This way provides easier hiking, but is not at all direct and also leaves you very exposed to the winds. The winds are intense. That’s a gross understatement. The wind is always blowing, with gusts probably hitting 35-45 mph. Every gust is also carrying hundreds of thousands of pellets of sand with it that sting, blind, and get EVERYWHERE. I discovered body parts I didn’t know I had while cleaning sand out of them last night in the shower. Oh - did I mention that the sand in the sun reaches temperatures up to 140 degrees? It was MFing hot. (Yes mom, before you ask, I wore sunscreen)

Our ascent took about two hours. We did a little of both tactics: the ridiculous frontal assault as well as staying on the ridges when possible. The peak was interesting. It was a great sense of accomplishment, but the wind was even worse up there so the conditions were pretty miserable. Heading down was definitely the most fun. As a group of young men who just conquered the peak, and were therefore invincible, we chose the most reckless way possible: straight down the steepest slopes at a full run. It was awesome. Each step sunk in far enough to slow us down such that we remained in control, and stopping was a trivial matter. Once we realized this - and how fun it was to run down these things - we began choosing our route to find the steepest dunes possible to run down.

I could go on for a while longer about the dunes, but there’s more story to tell. On the way back we stopped by Zapata waterfall. It’s real easy to find, and not even a mile from the closest turnaround. The only way to actually see the waterfall, however, is to walk up a rushing stream flowing between two canyon walls. The water was so cold, and my feet so beat up from running down dunes (oh, I was barefoot as well) that they cramped up instantly upon hitting the water. I rock-hopped pretty far up the stream, but didn’t go the whole way up to the waterfall itself. Maybe next time. I did, however, make a difficult climb up the canyon walls in an effort to see the waterfall. It would have been a very difficult climb in shoes, but all I had were wet sandals. Dumb. I was properly punished for my poor decision at the top though, when I disturbed a nest of ants and got about 15 bites all over my feet.

The day was completed with a stop at Blackjack’s Steakhouse in Trinidad, Colorado on the way back. I had the ribeye. It was tasty. Overall, the trip was a great success. We all got to see a unique little part of North America, had a great time playing around, and got to know each other a little better. Now everyone get back to work!

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It’s almost midnight. I’m sitting in my cabin, listening to James Taylor and typing this blog. I just came from a staff dance, where Rod Taylor (no relation) was playing along with his band, the Rifters, and his two sons - all very talented musicians.

It’s only been 5 days since I last wrote anything, but it seems like weeks to me. We’ve been doing more and more training. I have yet to get a day off. The good news is that it seems like we’re either caught up or slightly ahead in most of our departments tasks.

My typical days have been spent either in the Logistics office or in one of the classrooms at the Philmont Training Center across the street. PTC is the national training headquarters for all of the Boy Scouts of America… so you’d think they would have more comfortable chairs. Oh well. Honestly, I have enjoyed most of the training here so far. If only there weren’t so much of it. I’m SO ready to just get into the routine, let things happen and deal with them as they come, and most of all for some time off!

Evenings have been interesting. Since we haven’t “scattered” the individual staffs to the backcountry yet, there are a ton of people in base camp. In fact, the staff opening campfire tonight is the only time that the entire staff is all together at once each year. That’s about 1200 people. As a result, any plans I’ve tried to make regarding early bedtimes have been completely in vain. It seems like every night, I’ve ended up going out to the James with people. Really I think it’s been 5 out of the last 7. I never have more than a few beers, and we typically don’t stay out too late - which are probably the only reasons I’m still alive.

Because of the campfire, tonight was an exception. The staff opening campfire was freezing cold, slightly boring at times, and way too long. I’m glad I went though. Despite my shivering, the presentations and remarks by the executive staff were able to sink in a little bit. It was a refreshing reminder about why were all here and what we’re here to do. Hearing the songs, as well as some of the same stories, got me back into the “Philmood,” when, I have to admit I may have started slipping in the last few days. I think the rate of slippage was approximately equal to the slipping of my butt down in the hard seats at PTC.

The dance following the campfire was fun, despite some frustration on my part. I had gone with some friends from Logistics and the Health Lodge to the “Western Night” at the main hall at PTC on Wednesday, in an effort to refresh my two-step. I will never claim to have been a fantastic dancer, but there was a time when I was pretty damn decent. Getting back into C&W dancing has proven to be a little more difficult than I anticipated, though. Even the basic steps managed somehow to put me on the wrong foot a time or two Wednesday and tonight. It doesn’t help that there are some pretty amazing dancers on the staff, several in my own department. Just like everything else here though, it’s coming back to me. I’ll have plenty more opportunities to practice, especially once the backcountry staff has scattered and there’s actually some room on the local dance floors.

It’s way past this kid’s bedtime. I can’t stop yawning. Hasta!

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Whew. Just got back from playing several hours of ultimate frisbee on the Villa Lawn. It was some great ultimate - I just wish I had shoes to wear. By the end of the last game, I still had plenty of endurance left in me, but the bottoms of my feet were a cut up mess from the pinecones. For those of you keeping score at home, the team I was on won every game. At the end, the Logistics department decided to team up and challenge anyone else out there. We beat a bunch of Rangers 5-1. Represent!

The last few days have been more and more training. Parts of the training I’ve attended as a refresher for myself, and parts of it I’ve ended up leading. I led the Logistics department though a full map review of the entire ranch today, and was astounded at how much I was able to remember with only an hour or so of review beforehand. I still see the map upside-down in my head, though.

The department is starting to bond already. We all try to sit together at meals, and everyone seems interested in hanging out after training concludes each day. I’ve already been out to the James (the only bar within many miles) twice - a big change in the social scene from my experience in ‘03 when I wasn’t yet 21. Anyway, I’m happy with the way things are shaping up. My only real complaint for the time being would be that I’m already sick of training. I can’t wait for campers to start showing up so we can just get into the routine and do what we came here for. I know that the training is necessary, blah blah blah. That doesn’t mean I’m not already sick of it.

I haven’t mentioned my roommates yet. There’s a good reason for that. They haven’t shown up yet. That’s right, I’ve been living in a four-person dorm-cabin all by myself. It’s been really nice, but at the same time it will be nice to have a roommate to hang out with as well. The next scheduled arrival for my cabin is Kyle, the last assistant manager in Logistics. He’s supposed to be here at the end of this week. After that, the next arrival isn’t until the end of June.

It is so easy to slip back into the magic of this place. The mountains, the storms, the people, the attitude, everything adds up in the most unlikely way… but works out to be absolutely incredible. I’m already tossing around the idea in my head of staying through the autumn season. One bite at a time, though, hehe.

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Ho-ly-shit…

The stars out here are not the same stars that people see from anywhere else on this globe. They are absolutely stunning.

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Been a long day. My sleep schedule has not come close to adjusting. My alarm went off at 6am (that’s 5am CST) this morning and I seriously contemplated calling in sick. Instead, I’m getting started on a routine. Wake up, ensure consciousness and alertness by jumping off the top bunk and hoping I land on my feet, turn on some music, push-ups and sit-ups for a half hour, shower, then off to chow. That’s the rough draft. We’ll see how long I can keep that up.

While my sleep schedule hasn’t quite come to terms with things, my eating schedule is right on track. I don’t know what it is, but something about being in the mountains makes me ravenous. Despite questionable food (cafeteria staff is still figuring things out I suppose), I’ve been eating everything in sight. Not only that, but I’m eating quickly. That’s right, you heard me, the undisputed king of eating slowly is packing it down like a Sudanese refuge (too soon?)

I spent the entire day today in training classes. Most of the day was taken up with a Wilderness First Aid “Train the Trainers” course. It was almost all review from various first aid classes and of course my EMT courses, but refresher is always good with that kind of thing. One thing we did get to practice which was new to me was giving actual injections. The instructor provided syringes filled with sterile saline which we used to stick each other in the arm. This being the first actual injection I’d ever given, I was very interested, and can honestly say that it was fun. My old pediatrician, Dr. Blum, would probably fall out of his chair if he heard that I enjoyed getting an injection. Let’s just say that there are stories of me actually hiding behind the exam table and refusing to come out in order to avoid immunizations when I was little.

Each department had to send representatives to this class, in which we not only reviewed wilderness first aid for ourselves, but also learned how to more effectively teach it to others. One of the other Logistics Assistant Managers, Lozy, and I will relay this knowledge to our department sometime in the next week I suppose.

The evening was spent in driver training. The Cliff’s Notes for this class would look something like this: Don’t speed, be careful, don’t speed, be responsible, don’t speed, take care of the staff vehicles, don’t speed, be sure to close the livestock gates behind you, don’t speed, no driving after dark, don’t speed, be aware of the weather, and above all DON’T SPEED. It was thrilling. Necessary though, I suppose.

That’s two consecutive paragraphs I’ve ended with supposing things. Enough of that. It’s time to crawl into bed and read for a while.

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So I made it… finally.

I forgot just how tortuous that drive really is. For the people who think western Kansas on I-70 is bleak, try the high plains of northeastern NM or eastern Colorado sometime. You don’t know desolation until you’ve driven those roads alone for hours on end. I had plenty of time for good thinking and bad singing.

The good news is that I am LOVING the new car. My ‘04 Honda Pilot seems already to be an ideal Philmont vehicle. The performance, handling, comfort, features, and even gas mileage, have been superb. Eight hundred miles in one day was a pretty good way to break it in, I’d say.

Philmont is almost exactly how I remembered it - except for the countless number of things that have changed. It’s funny how a place can simultaneously be so dynamic, yet so timeless.

As I rolled into Cimarron last night, I could see the familiar skyline of mountains, punctuated by the Tooth of Time right in the middle, all lit up by a huge full moon. Even after five years, late at night by moonlight I could rattle off the names of all the peaks. At one in the morning, I found myself knocking on my managers door in order to wake him and get my cabin assignment. Not exactly the entrance I had planned on making.

My cabin is nice. Not fantastic, but nice. It consists of two rooms. The first is about the size of a college dorm room and contains two bunk beds, four “closet” pieces (which are basically a rod from which to hang clothes with two small drawers at the bottom), a mini-fridge and microwave, a table and lamp (with no lampshade), and an overhead light fixture (which is also bare light bulbs, heh). The second room has two sinks, a mirror, toilet, and shower. The shower is glorious. The water is nice and hot, and the water pressure could peel paint. The only problem is that the shower head is about at the height of my chest. I’m going to have a hunchback before this summer is over from leaning over in the shower.

Like I said, nothing fancy, but it’s enough. Really, I don’t expect to spend much time here except for sleeping. I do have (very weak and VERY slow) wireless connection from my cabin, which is nice. Surprisingly enough though, I don’t have any cell phone reception at Base Camp. This morning I drove out to the nearest cell tower I could find. It was about 20 miles away. I called my dad to check in, but then for some weird reason I couldn’t make any more calls after that despite having full bars showing. Weird. More experimentation is necessary.

My first day of work was about how I expected it to be: overwhelming. Despite having plenty of Philmont time under my belt, I am almost starting over on the learning curve. Five years is too long to be away. The tasks and responsibilities of the logistics office are almost unchanged, but many of the procedures have either changed - or I simply don’t remember them after five years. I’ll pick it up again quick, I’m sure… but it’s frustrating for the time being.

I’ll write more later, but for now I’m going to lie down for a while. I rise with the sun here, which may be the biggest adjustment I’ll have to face! More blogs to come, leave some love!

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Hello stalkers, I’m back!

Quick update: Life now finds me at Philmont Scout Ranch, up in the Sangre De Christo Mountains of northern New Mexico. I’m an assistant manager in the logistics department for the duration of the summer, and thanks to Travis, I’ll be writing blog posts on his laptop (which is on loan). More posts to come, stay tuned.

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