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706 Day 6 - Beaubien Camp

Leaving Porcupine, we quickly arrived at Phillips Junction where we picked up food for the next day. Why we were not scheduled to pick up more at a time, I do not know. Our itinerary had us scheduled for a total of three separate pickups at Phillips Junction, all within one day of each other. Logistically, I saw that as an inconvenience. However, it meant that we had less weight to carry in our packs, and I know that nobody complained about that.

We dropped our packs where we pleased, in front of the building, not bothering to form a pack line. On the extreme left end of the porch was the entrace to the small trading post attached to the commissary. Mr Max went inside and waited in line while he bought more white gas stove fuel. At the same time, several of the others got some refreshments. I checked in at the main window and received our food for the next day. We opened the packages to determine what kinds of beverages we had been given, and rummaged through the big bin at the side of the window to see what we could swap out or take outright. I actually found myself selecting a packet of cornstarch milk. I was obviously suffering from trail delerium at that point.

Phillips Junction also offered a latrine, complete with walls. We took advantage of this welcome site.

We said goodbye to Claus here. This was the point at which he was scheduled to return home. He rode the commissary supply jeep back to base camp. We would not see him again until we got back to Texas.

After recharging our food supply, we took a double-back path up to Beaubien. The Beaubien theme is horses and branding (shoes, that is).

We did horseback riding at Beaubien. We had to first wait through a programme lecture on the history of horse keeping at Philmont. This was done indoors in the Beaubien Lodge, a long cabin with windows along the entire length of the porch. It seemed a little bit different from many of the other buildings I had seen so far in the back country. Its front was shaded by three or four tall pine trees which had clearly been planted there intentionally. In fact, the entire staff area was well groomed. The cabin was actually elevated off the ground on a foundation of white stone (probably more porphyry). There were two sets of steps on either side which we had to go up to get to the porch level. After the programme, at about 1 p.m., we hurried down to the stables. The horse ride itself was similar to what I had done last year at Clark's Fork. The only notable difference was that we went up and down a few steep slopes. I must admit that I did not enjoy going down them -- having to lean backwards just to keep from sliding out of the saddle as the horse went down the hill.

Here, John, Steven, Carl, Kevin, Matt, and Derek, all from Texas,
try their very hardest to humour the nice staffer and
look as though they'd never seen a real horse before.

Beaubien offered horseback riding, boot branding, and a western dinner. This meal, as I recall, was essentially like that at Ponil -- stew, beans, cobblers -- the stuff that is never spectacular by city standards, but is never turned down after so many days on the trail. The meals were cooked, with help from some members of the crews camping in Beaubien that night, in the traditional dutch ovens, set to simmer in the long, trench-like fire pits where they branded boots. Boots may have even gone into the stew for all we knew. As I said, we probably would not have noticed after eating all that trail food. I am sure that a small amount of dirt and ash also made their way into the meal. Stew meals are often cooked with biscuits laid on top of the simmering mush, inside the pot. These absorb some of the water and essentially become dumplings.

It was here at Beaubien that everybody except Derek and I branded our boots. Actually, they branded just about everything. John Gast melted the bill of his nylon cap with the cattle brand. Mr Max managed to get the Bar-S brand onto his yellow felt hat and walking stick. Having already done all this a year before, I turned my attention towards my socks. Yes, here I had an opportunity to wash some clothes. As far as showers and hygiene, we were doing pretty well. I was much cleaner than I had been by this time last year. Dirt and grime are part of the Philmont experience, to be sure, but I think I had had enough of being a "trail grode" this year. I encountered a ranch hand, a cowboy-type employed at Beaubien, who had been part of the programme lecture earlier in the day, shaving and brushing his teeth at the watering site as I went to the shower house's sink to rinse the clothes. He informed me that there was a washing basin nearby that would work much better. These are the joys of running water. I later took this opportunity to do the same, as my face and teeth were both getting pretty fuzzy after six days on the trail. At the wash basin, there was a corrugated steel washboard there which was a considerable help in working 5 days worth of grime out of the socks. As always, the only soap was Camp Suds, and it worked true to its promise.

As of this night, we were half-way done with our trek, and I think that everyone had found their pace, both on the trail and off. There was no rain to speak of this night, and we slept well.

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