Irons in the Fire

High in the back country of Philmont, Scouts can brand their shoes, their Nalgene bottles, and if they're feeling really destructive, their nylon caps.

Down at the training center, the adult leaders get to have their belongings branded by girls. These girls, on staff at Philmont, are difficult to watch by one who has branded hundreds of calves.

First, they don't know exactly how to heat up the iron. Second, they hold the iron up in the breeze before branding while saying things like, "Did you see what Kathy did today? . . ." Meanwhile the branding iron is cooling from "not really red hot" to "warmish." Third, they brand the shoe, but it is more of a sunburn than a brand. Then they say, "Do you think it needs a little bit more?"

Then they repeat the process, placing the somewhat cooled iron sort of where the original brand was. It took three attempts before I said, "Looks fine." Although a calf would be ashamed to have such a faint brand.

Driving to Philmont

The drive to Philmont from Angle Fire is spectacular, and exciting--especially at night when you get to dodge deer every quarter mile.
My most unforgetable drive along this road was when I was taking scouts home from a winter camp at Philmont. I was navigating the winding road well, considering I was in a Ford F150 pickup. Scouts were slumbering in the back seat. It was a great time to contemplate the beauties of the world.

Suddenly, one of the scouts awoke. Let's call him Howard. Howard said, "I don't feel very good." It took my brain a few seconds to interpret this, and I screeched to a halt at a small turn-off. About the time I stopped, something happened inside the cab that caused me to take on the expression and (unfortunatley) the language of a resident of Pompeii when Vesuvius let go. (Vesuvius smelled better and covered less area.)

I spent the rest of the trip trying to figure out how I might set my pickup on fire and make it look like an accident.

Today's trip was better.