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705 Day 5 - Mt Phillips, an Oreo Communion, and Porcupine Camp

Morning at Red Hills came, and we got ready to start out on our way over Mt Phillips. This would be a long and eventful day. It would, in fact, be our longest hike -- about nine miles.

Breaking Camp at Red Hills: In this picture, Claus and the rest of us are breaking camp. Claus appears to have an exceedingly guilty look for a Methodist minister. He must have gotten out of sump duty.

The trail from Red Hills had many impressive views. Above, you can see the view looking north (Baldy Mountain). We stopped for a break at an area which had lots of dead trees. It must have at one time been a burned area. The trunks were all stripped of bark, though I did not see any charring. The logs were scattered around as if a flood had washed them in.

COMMANCHE PEAK

click for map

Leaving the Red Hills, we hiked over Comanche Peak and passed through Mt Phillips Camp. We actually would go over Mt Phillips, and in doing so, leave Philmont-proper for a while. We reached the top of Mt Phillips just before noon. It was bright -- sun beaming down and reflecting back off the ground in your face from nearly all directions. And hot. It was hot that day. The ground of the peak was covered with light, pinkish stone, fairly small fragments about six inches across. In between the rocks grew thin, pale grass and small yellow flowers.

As we hiked along the ridge between Commanche Peak and Mt Phillips, we could see many of the distinctive landmarks around us. To the west, beyond the Philmont boundry, were the snow-covered tops of Wheeler Peak. Even in midsummer, the snow had not melted. This was the same view I had seen the previous year from the top of Baldy. To the south could be seen the slopes of Angel Fire Ski Resort, where I had been a few months prior, sitting idle for the summer. Incidentally, my ski expedition stayed at Philmont's Ponil camp, which is how I got pictures of Ponil covered in snow.

I recall noting while on Mt Phillips that the Grape Drink that several of us had dissolved into our water bottles a few days earlier was starting to taste a little heady. We joked that it was actually fermenting. Actually, I am sure there was some bacterial process going on.

The trail atop Mt Phillips, although generally running east-west, takes a brief turn to the north. In following it, any hiker cannot miss the direct view of Touch-Me-Not Mountain and Mt Baldy to the north. I am convinced that the trail was laid this way intentionally. The trail is clearly visible, a rut carved out in the stones by generations of hikers passing this way. This is another one of those pictures that nearly everybody who goes to Philmont ends up taking.

See the big picture

Just as the trail on Mt Phillips made its short bend northward, we stopped at the famous trail marker to take our group picture.

Atop Mt Phillips on a Thursday, we had a communion (seriously) celebrated by Claus, my minister, and assisted by me. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, an idea I had come up with the day before.

Strange as this may sound, we used Oreo cookies as Jesus's body, and our much-coveted rehydrated "apple" drink as ceremonial blood. Any theological implications of this were lost on us at the time. I had not thought about it until recently, but I now wonder if we had stopped to consider whether everyone on the trek was religiously inclined to be taking a communion. I don't know that I would have proposed doing this today. But, I think that everyone either went to my Methodist church, or was Methodist-friendly. Though I cannot remember the details as well as I would like, I am sure that we discussed the matter before proceeding. Despite there being a few Baptists in the group, I do not recall anyone opposed to doing this. At any rate, it was an interesting point of the day, and I suspect that not too many crews have done this.

Rayado Creek, Outside my Tent at Porcupine

We re-entered Philmont at Clear Creek Camp, hiking over the fence, and passed through. Fences at Philmont are made to keep cattle in place, and, therefore, the means of crossing is designed with this in mind. There are two primary methods employed in the back country. One involves a simple, narrow gate which is a span of barbed wire fencing consisting of three posts rather than two. The middle post (often an old juniper log) is placed right next to one of the other two, and held tightly to it by a detachable wire loop. The fence wire itself is discontiguous here, permitting trekkers to unfasten the wire loops, move the middle post, and pull the fence open. One must remember to re-close the gate (which requires a little leverage if the fence wire is tight).

The second means of crossing a fence uses a steep, A-frame step ladder placed at the trail over the fence. The steps are simply wooden planks that overlap each other at about the midpoint of each step. This makes for a very steep rise and very treacherous footing. It is done intentionally so that cattle will not attempt to use them to leave the property. The only problem is that hiking boots can often be as klunky as cattle hooves, and easily catch underneath the steps. With these over-sized boots and the top-heavy weight of your pack, scaling the steps with your boots requires coördination. I'd never been the coördinated kind, and, with my 3-pound boots on, I tripped on these kind of steps more than once. The route to Clear Creek camp employed a few of these ladders.

Clear Creek Camp is one of the larger staffed camps at Philmont, and its expanse was evident. It was also full of many crews. There was a fairly prominent cabin there, as this site was a big programme area offering firearms activities. We did not engage in this; it was just a chance to refill the water bottles, almost depleted since communion. We still had a ways to go.

We drove south along Rayado Creek, and passed through Comanche Camp (not Commanche Peak Camp), and eventually arrived at our stay-over destination, Porcupine Camp. It is set along the Rayado Creek, and is pretty damp.

click for map

It was cold and rainy at Porcupine. Our camp was made alongside the stream -- within about six feet of it. Everything was damp, and there were many more mosquitos than I'd seen elsewhere. The grasses growing between the creek and our tents were full of them. They were very small as well, smaller than average. I was glad we brought along the repellent, yet another mysterious goo issued by Philmont along with the Camp Suds. It came in a small green bottle by Campmor, was innocuously called "Insect Repellent" -- I'm not sure if it repelled them or attracted them. Still, despite all this, the stay would be alright. The clouds would recede by evening, and we were treated to a really spectacular pink sunset.

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