Day 11: Flume Canyon to Ponil

I dreamed last night that I was at work and hadn’t taken a shower since getting back from Philmont. (Which would serve my boss right after sending me on this assignment.) The crew gets a kick out of this. “You’ll be traumatized by Philmont and will be setting up bear bags in your office,” Blake says.

“You’ll be eating dehydrated food for lunch everyday,” Kevin laughs.

“And putting everything you own in Ziplock bags,” Travis adds.

That might have been just a dream, but here’s something that wasn’t: We woke up this morning to a pile of bear poop only 10 feet from our tents. Yikes!

Charlie and yours truly have different reactions to the bear poop discovery.

Last night, Assistant Scoutmaster Ken Forkner called it. When we were pitching our tents, he advised us to keep them clear of a path running from the nearby creek through our tent site to the Bearmuda Triangle. He guessed — right on — that if a big furry visitor came through, it would take this path. Fortunately, we had done a good job with our bear procedures, so our visitor didn’t bother us or our stuff.

Christian doesn’t want to come out of his tent into the drizzly morning.

We head out for Ponil, the last camp on our trek. We make really good time and get there in time for a horseback ride.

We and another crew listen up before the ride.

I don’t have much experience around horses, so I listen carefully to the staff talk before our trail ride. They tell us to be sure to take charge of your horse and show it who’s boss, because it can sense if you’re nervous and will push you around. As the staff is giving out the horses, I’m thinking: Please, please, please let me get a reallllly easy-going horse.

Instead, I get Bob. He’s a big guy with a glint in his eye. I get on him and before I know it, he’s moved into the middle of the corral, even though I’ve been pulling on his reins to get him to stay put. Everybody’s looking at me from the perimeter of the corral where we’re supposed to be lining up, probably thinking, “Boy, she needs to show that horse who’s boss …” In a fake stern voice, I tell Bob what’s what, but I don’t think he’s buying it.

Fortunately, the ride is just a leisurely stroll single file through Ponil Valley, so Bob doesn’t go wild. Although pretty gentle, most of the horses have a bit of a stubborn streak: “My horse kept nudging me if I quit petting him,” Tonie reports, after the trail ride.

“Mine kept eating the grass along the trail like he wasn’t supposed to,” Charlie says.

Well, I’m glad to hear my horse wasn’t the only one with a mind of his own.

Hitting the trail in nice single file.

Travis giddyaps with Kevin not too far behind.

Equestrian Kendall feels right at home in the saddle.

Christian gits along.

Trevor holds his horse.

Bob has me smiling before the trail ride is over.

Bob and buds back in the corral.

After our trail ride, we hit La Cantina de Ponil for our first taste of home: sarsaparilla. Well, it’s actually rootbeer, and to us it’s the best-tasting rootbeer ever. It sure beats the water and Gatorade we’ve been drinking nonstop for the past 11 days.

Kevin downs a taste from home.

The gang plays a friendly card game of President in a nice dry place.

Not only do we get rootbeer at Ponil, but we also get a chuckwagon dinner — beef stew and peach cobbler. The best part is that the staff cooks it for us.

Christian pitches in and helps stoke the coals for the chuckwagon dinner.

Then, at 8 o’clock, we get live entertainment at the cantina from the staff. Boy, I’m starting to like all this service.

We get a little bit of singing …

And some fiddling …

And some laughs …

And some Philmont history from Sheriff Charlie.

Before heading to our campsites, staffer Sheriff Charlie gives us a pep talk: “We’ve had 24 straight days of bear sightings here at Ponil, so be very, very careful with your bear procedures tonight.”

To drive this point home, we’re treated to a viewing of a previous Ponil camper’s Nalgene bottle. It’s punctured all over by big ol’ bear teeth marks.

O.K., so let me get this straight. We’ve made it this far—to the very last night on the trail—and chances are that we’ll be encountering a bear tonight? Great.