808 - Day 12 - Tooth of Time and Base Camp

This would be our last morning in the back-country, our last breakfast of cornstarch milk and cereal. We had another one of our "cookless" breakfasts because we wanted to get started early. The intent was to have lunch on the Tooth, but that was naturally the plan of everyone else too. I imagined we could not all fit up there at the same time, so we had to beat the crowd.

Leaving Upper Clark's Fork, our first goal was to get to the top of Shæfer's Peak, the mountain which sits at the western end of the Tooth of Time Ridge. When we reached the top, we could see the both of the valleys, north and south. We took one last posed group photo -- with the northern valley behind us. It was a good morning.

Tooth of Time Cusp: One of my two favourite pictures

Most of our hike along the Tooth Ridge was done on the southern side, so the view was obscured most of the time. Along the ridge of the Tooth we mostly got a view of the southern valley. As we weaved in and out of each turn, the cusp of the Tooth drew closer and closer. At last it lay in view before us.

TOOTH OF TIME

click for route

After the last series of switch-backs, we went over to the northern side of the Ridge. We were at the base of the Tooth, the final climb. The trees thinned out, leaving only a rising slope of white rocks. We dropped our packs there. It would be crowded at the top, and so we took only our lunch. We negotiated our way up through the cracked slabs of white rock. Ground squirrels and chipmunks scurried out of our way. They knew we would be having lunch. When we got to the top and looked north, there was Mt Baldy off in the distance, and all of the terrain in between. We had come from North Country, so it was a bit strange to know that we were viewing a visual condensation of our trek's entire route.

Baldy from the Tooth of Time

We reached the top of the Tooth of Time, and had our lunch of bread, peanut butter, and graham crackers there -- 36°40'44", 105°.

The top of the Tooth is made of large slabs of white porphyry, fractured and set on edge at an angle, pointing up at the sky. We threaded our way between them, and then on top of them, seeking spots to sit for lunch and seeking camera perches. You don't realise just how large your surroundings really are until you get up high enough to see them all. We could see most everything out for miles -- Tent City, the basin, and the northern and southern valleys. Robert located the Tooth's lightning-battered geodetic survey marker and took its picture -- "9003 feet above sea level", it once read. I guess it is proof that lightning does strike twice in the same place.

Tooth of Time Skyline: Greg takes a picture eastward.

It was a splendid moment, the culmination of our journey -- but a little somber too because it would soon be over. But this was surely part of what John had in mind when he insisted I come here. Greg's dad suggested he take a picture of me atop the Tooth. I am quite glad he did. People-pictures were one thing I had not taken many of this trek. And in retrospect, I certainly wish I had taken more (the ones seen here are mostly from the advisors' cameras). Trees and skylines are nice, but I find myself these days wanting to recall who was where doing what. Fortunately, for the next trek, my dad would come along, and as a parent, he already had this sentiment in mind.

Atop the Tooth: I and David. R2-23

The ground coming down off the Tooth is well-worn -- with good reason. Almost everybody who comes to Philmont hikes to Tooth. We returned to the foot of the peak climb, and got back on the trail. Not too far along, we began to spot mule deer again, just as we had seen at Shæfer's Pass. The Ridge began its gradual descent to Base Camp's elevation. Shortly before passing through Tooth Ridge Camp (which is about one quarter of the way down), we encountered a secondary rock formation. White porphyry jutted up about 50 feet or so. The formation was smaller than the Tooth of Time itself, and much smoother -- probably because the effects of water erosion are more noticable on smaller formations. The trail split (though the map does not show this), and went around on both sides, hugging the edges of the walls. We, therefore, took a few moments to go out of our way to walk around the whole thing. Actually, half of us took one side and half the other, to see who would get around it the faster. I thought about taking a picture, but I had already used up my last frame photographing the mule deer we encountered previously.

In 1983, there were three routes that crews could take coming down off the Tooth into Base Camp. The main trail runs along the whole length of the Tooth of Time Ridge, switching back and forth several times as it winds down the northwestern face, terminating in Base Camp. The two other routes went essentially straight down the southeastern side of the ridge with relatively little switching. One, known as the Stockade Trail, leaves off near the Stockade Camp, quite far from Base Camp. The other, known as the Pasture Trail, ends in the cow pastures that are about halfway between Badger Camp and Base Camp. It is a considerable distance from Base Camp, but is still a more direct route than hiking the full extent of the main trail. I am told that the Pasture Trail has been closed to crews for several years now. But, in 1983, it was a permitted route.

Pasture View

We took the Pasture Trail. Despite its less-than-optimal condition, Greg knew that it would be a faster than winding down the switchbacks of the main trail. The trail was quite hot, and steep in places. I remember passing several sharp yucca-type plants on the slope (the only ones I had seen at Philmont), and hoping that I did not lose footing and fall onto one (Note: Yuccas are not listed in the flora of the Philmont Field Guide, so perhaps someone should tell Philmont that they are/were there).

The Pasture Trail descended and took us through the cow pastures that lie to the south of Tent City. As we reached the pasture, we could look up over our shoulders to the right and see the Tooth towering above.

BASE CAMP

We arrived at Base Camp to no special fanfare. Although the completion of the trek was momentous for each of us, everyone in Headquarters was tending to business as usual. No matter. I was just glad to find plumbing again. Even the duties sheet at the quartermaster's check-in window listed showers as a top priority task. We checked in our equipment, got our Tent City assignments for the evening, and went to clean two weeks of grime off of our backs.

11 days of open range and now we're all crammed in this one tent

Homebound crews are assigned a different section of Tent City than incoming crews. I am not entirely sure why, but I suppose it is easier to manage the flow. In 1983, there were 14,258 people who came through Philmont on treks. If this figure includes only the summer months (say 75 days), it works out to something like 190 people per day. I can see the need for crowd control. Did I mention 1983 was a low-attendence year?

That afternoon, we took the opportunity to visit the main Trading Post again to collect memorabilia and fresh copies of the trail map. It was at this point that I bought the Philmont belt and buckle. The belt itself was unstained cowhide -- not very attractive. But, I was told it would darken and gain character with time and wear. As for the buckle, it is my favourite piece of Philmont memorabilia. From then onwards, these took the place of the regulation Scout belt on my uniform. Mine is of an earlier design than the ones seen today. Personally, I like this old design better.

I also bought a black Philmont Bull, the kind which is usually sewn to the shoulder of a red wool jacket (also sold at the Trading Post, but for a hefty sum). Tradition has it that if you've been over the Tooth of Time (few have not), you sew the bull's tail up and over the shoulder.

Silver on the Sage

It was evening all too soon. We had dinner in the dining hall and then got ready for closing campfire. The sun was setting over the Tooth, and the sky was turning pale violet and burnt orange.

Just as we had had an Opening Campfire 11 days earlier, we were treated to the Closing Campfire. This was held on the Tent City side of the highway, on the edge of Base Camp nearest the Tooth of Time. It was the time to let our thoughts dwell on the past two weeks. The crew flag which I had carried with me throughout the trek, by now faded from so much rain, was given to our advisors, Greg and his father, as a token of appreciation. There were the usual campfire stories and songs, and, of course, the Philmont Hymn. I think that most everyone sung it quite differently than they had eleven days before. Then, as the sun faded behind Tooth Ridge, we each received our Philmont Arrowhead patch. This patch is the token of acheivement given to all who complete their trek at Philmont, and who perform 3 or more hours of conservation work. It is to be worn suspended from the right pocket button on the Scout uniform shirt. When the ceremony was over, we returned on the path on which we arrived. This time, it was illuminated by fires in coffee cans -- each burning beneath wooden signs bearing the words of the Hymn. "Silver on the sage..." they began.

The Arrowhead Patch was inspired by Arrowhead Rock, a pointy white rock formation which is seen on the northern side of the Tooth of Time Ridge. There's an old Ranger proverb which says that if you ever look behind when leaving Philmont and see Arrowhead Rock, you are destined to return to Philmont. I've never heard of anyone who did not want to do so. I think that I was already missing this place and time. The past two weeks seemed much longer, and yet they were over before we knew it.

Leaving

The next morning, we got up and ate breakfast in the Base Camp dining hall. Greg's dad went to call home to inform them that we were leaving. By 7 o'clock, we were on the bus again and headed home. As we rolled down Hwy 21, I watched out of the side of the bus as Philmont slipped out of view. Although no specific plans had been made, I left hoping this would not be the last time we would come to Philmont. Departing to the south, we were not afforded a view of Arrowhead Rock. Nevertheless, we would indeed return to this place.

Derek takes one last look before we leave

"Philmont Aftermath" was the term I half-seriously made up to describe what I felt like upon returning to the everyday life of mowing lawns, taking out the trash, and using real plumbing. I guess I didn't mind the plumbing. But, two weeks of life in the Philmont back country are enough to allow you to become accustomed to the rustic routine. So, I think I greeted civilisation with just a bit of reservation. But, the summer would roll on, school would begin again, and new things would preoccupy me until the next year's trek.

Upon returning from the trek, Greg presented me and John Klocek with a proposal. His brother, John, had been a real enthusiast of climbing and rappelling. In his honor, we would build a 20-foot training tower to serve the scouts of the Longhorn Council. It would be a functional and useful memorial, something we believed would be lasting. So, over the winter of 1983, Greg, his father, myself, John Klocek, and occasionally a few others, gathered on the weekends at Leonard Scout Reservation in Granbury, Texas, to build what came to be known to us as simply, "The Tower". It was quite a feat of engineering skill and carpentry. We worked long and hard to get it completed by May of 1984. And, by the time it was commissioned, we were only one month away from returning to Philmont again. I was already looking for the summer once more.

John's family scattered his ashes at Leonard as well, at a secluded spot off the beaten trail, just beyond an outcropping which we came to call The Point. Knowing this, an idea occurred to me. Greg had surely come up with the idea to build the Tower while at Philmont. On the weekend that the Tower was dedicated, I walked down to the Point and picked up a stone from the area. I decided to take it with me to the Tooth of Time on the upcoming trek, and to place it there to remain for all time.

DAY 11: UPPER CLARK'S FORK

TREK 701-M, 1984

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