I was assigned an Order of the Arrow ordeal with my eldest at the beginning of December at a Boy Scout camp in Texas. I was relieved it wasn’t going to be in August, as trail clearing and trash hauling tend to be the order of the day in the Order of the Arrow. And even though I had packed my positive attitude and (incognito, not knowing how welcome they would be) a few pocket warmers, I was amazed at the temperature in the teens we experienced both Friday and Saturday nights.

Some hardy and eager scouts slept in the open Friday night, and the moonlight was beautiful, but I must admit I was grateful for my little tent to keep as much warmth with me as it could. I enjoyed the weekend after all, even more Saturday night, thanks to a handwarmer tossed in the foot of the sleeping bag and a dose of Advil PM (I’m not much into medicines, but it sure did make the ground softer and let me actually sleep).

I returned Sunday in time to do laundry and collect most of my accoutrements for an enthralling trip to Delightful Detroit. I only thought I had seen winter before. The 4-block walk to another meeting place and travel to and from the airport was the only time I spent outside, however. Those northerners have got it figured out, with the tunnel walkway thingies. I am newly impressed.

And I’m planning for another week there in January. And we’re staying in a hotel about 6 miles away from our meeting building, so I have a feeling I’m due for a good bit more travel outside than before. But hopefully I won’t need a pocket warmer at the foot of the hotel bed.

At the end of 2004, the main water valve to my house jammed closed and I was without water for three days. I stayed home on New Years and cleaned all the tile floors, just because I had water and could. Water is running in my house now, but I am incredibly conservative with it. I have been doing all the right things - turned it off when I was brushing my teeth, even hopped in the shower before it was very warm (now, that’s refreshing), remembered to be grateful it was there just by turning the faucet on. How much different would it be if I just conserved like that all the time?

It’s amazing how little water you can get by with when you really have to, like on a hike to a dry camp, without a spring or other water source nearby. My dad grew up in West Texas in the Great Depression, and I often try to imagine what it would’ve been like in the dusty oilfields. I begin to understand why he was always so careful with water.

Wonder if I’ll remember in a week.

A quick survey of the returning equipment turned up a few missing items. So if you’re hiking around Philmont and happen across these items, you can drop me a comment and thank me.

Missing in action:
Cut-out handle pocketknife sorta like a Gerber Paraframe Serrated Knife (they missed it when they went to open their food packaging the next day)
Khaki wide brim Columbia mesh insert hat
One short sock liner (he came home with three that matched and one that didn’t - we’ll be happy to send you the long one for the short one. Never mind, these probably need to be completely replaced)

These were the favorite equipment winners:
The new backpacking tent (REI Half Dome 2 Tent - I can’t say enough good about it, and neither could he)
Under Armour Boxer Briefs (”No chafing!”)
Under Armour Full TShirt
Body Powder (Enough for the whole crew!)
Foot Powder (On the feet only, see previous post)

I am looking forward to the Philmont report from adult members of the crew. It’s always interesting to get the other perspective. Now, there’s a group of men that deserve accolades - could you stand 2 weeks (your vacation time) with 7 teenage boys in the wilderness?

The teenagers in camp for the reunion are the workhorses for this event/meal. So this year, there were three 14 and 15-year-old guys, Ben, Michael and Brad. They turned out to be pretty good in the kitchen, amiable, a little smart-mouthed, and a lot of fun. They even found a radio station that worked for all of us.

You certainly wouldn’t want to try this on a campout, but if you have access to a reasonable kitchen, try out this recipe for homemade cinnamon rolls.

Dissolve 1 packet of yeast in 1 cup warm water.
Add 1 cup sugar, then stir until dissolved.
Add 1 cup scalded then cooled milk.
Stir in 4 cups flour and mix well.
Turn out on floured counter and knead well, about 10 minutes.
Oil bowl, put dough in, then turn to coat in oil. Cover and let rise 1 - 1 1/2 hours.
Divide dough into two batches. Roll out one batch to a circle about 1/4 inch thick. Ladel on about 1/2 cup of melted butter, 1/2 c. brown sugar, and a tablespoon of cinnamon. Adjust to taste. Roll up the circle of dough, slice about 1 inch thick, then pack onto a baking sheet. Repeat with remaining batch of dough. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. Let rise about 1 1/2 hours if not refrigerated, then bake at 350 F for about 35 minutes. If refrigerated, take them out about 2 hours before baking. For best results, turn the cinnamon rolls out of the pan upside down so the caramel sticks to them instead of the bottom of the pan.

A small vat of powdered sugar icing doesn’t hurt either.

Thanks, Michael, Ben and Brad. I had a great time.

Don’t wear sandals. Duh. Poison ivy, critters, mud, it all invites catastrophe if you’re tootsies aren’t enclosed.

Don’t go sockless. Yuck anyway. In fact. don’t go without two pair of socks. When your feet look like ground beef on the trail and are covered with blisters you’ll understand why I say this. For best results, use a thin synthetic liner sock with thick wool socks on the outside. Cotton is not your friend for a long hike. Socks should come up past your ankles to protect from most plants and varmints.

Don’t forget a hat. It doesn’t even matter what it looks like as long as it protects your face from the sun. Ideally, it should protect your ears and the back of your neck as well, because the sun shines there too.

Don’t wear pants that drag the ground. You only wear them to a fray and run the risk of the person behind you stepping on them and embarassing everyone.

Don’t wear obscene tshirts. By the time I read one, I realize I’m much closer to you than I’d like to be.

Don’t wear military gear. If you want to wear military clothing, join the military.

Don’t be mistaken for a pirate. This encompasses the missing socks, a rag wrapped around your head, missing teeth and saying “Yar, Matey!”

He’d spent the latter part of the afternoon edging the yard, and was getting ready for a casual dinner out. Next time I saw him, he was cringing, grabbing his crotch and weaving around the yard saying, “It’s so cold, it’s freezing, man this hurts…”, etc. I laughed at him because I thought he was joking, then started to wonder because he was really frantic. I asked him what was wrong, and he managed to gasp that he had used his foot powder instead of cornstarch baby powder to “freshen up”.

Yikes. It was pretty amusing from afar, but I don’t think he thought so. It took a bit of a soak in the tub to get him settled down, and he said he still noticed the lingering effect a couple of hours later. Lesson the next: don’t use anything with menthol, eucalyptus oil or peppermint oil in an area you don’t want to have a really chilling effect.

Well, that’s something you wouldn’t want to try on the Philmont trek, now, isn’t it?

But when it comes to natural supernatural stuff, I’m totally enthralled. I’ve never seen the Northern lights, but would love to. I love meteor showers, finding satellites, looking through telescopes, watching the weather, taking pictures of clouds.

So, back to Marfa. We (three other girls and I) piled into my friend’s Buick and headed to the remote roads. The drive out from where we were was a good hour. As I recall, we arrived at the general area and kind of moseyed around for about 20 minutes up and down the road. It was pitch black, being far from any kind of city and many years ago. Finally, headed back toward the way we had come, a few individual lights hovered, swirled slowly, and faded in and out behind us. They lasted a good five minutes or so, close to the horizon, but above the highway, and far back in the distance.

We were sufficiently thrilled and headed back toward the camp we were staying at in the Davis Mountains. It was after midnight by then, and I’ve always been likely to fall asleep in the car, so I was drifting in and out of sleep while my friend drove. She had the windows all down and the radio blaring to stay awake herself.

It was altogether surreal, and still sends a chill down my spine when I remember it.

Then the boys and I decided to go Geocaching. I’d read about it and threatened to go a few times with a friend, but never actually tried it until today.

I have a GPS in my Honda Odyssey which seems to serve its purpose fairly well - getting me around unfamiliar places or those I seem to be unwilling to commit to memory. We did find out, however, that the location it claims we are at doesn’t seem to be terribly close to the place other GPS devices claim. We borrowed a Garmin eTrex from a friend, and it proved reliable - the coordinates were right on target for us to find our first cache in the old cemetary. It was a thrill for us all. Tucked in a nook of a large tree, it reminded me of the treasures Scout and Jem found in the tree in To Kill a Mockingbird. Our first success whetting our appetite, we decided to try another cache, but never located it. Looks like I have the next bit of electronic gadgetry on my wish list.

The full moon was suspended over a small farm just up the road on the drive for a quick visit to my mom’s house at dusk. It was picture-perfectly gorgeous. It’s been a lovely day.