Philmont “77” A Poem by Charles “Danny” Hutson

This poem was written by my father in 1977 which was the year me and him had the adventure of a lifetime for a father and son.

My older brother and I were both in the local Boy Scout troop and our father was the Scoutmaster for many years. It was a wonderful arrangement between a father and his sons.

It got even better when I decided to follow in my older brothers footsteps and go to the “high adventure camp” known as Philmont that the Boy Scouts had created in northeastern New Mexico.

During the last training week I attended in northern Virginia one of the leaders had to drop out of the trip and my father was asked if he would be interested.

Of course he said yes and the rest is history.

This poem tells a story. It is a story about a man and a small group of teenagers including his son (me) and an epic journey, both for the man, and also the boys who would be tested as men.

Some of the content will make little sense to anyone who has never experienced Philmont but I think you will enjoy it all the same.

Philmont “77”

We left on a long, long journey,

From Virginia to New Mexico.

It took us five days to get there,

Which seemed the long way to go.

 

We went up in the Arch,

Had a day at Six Flags.

The rides were all great,

There wasn’t any drags.

 

We got off that ole’ bus,

And loaded our packs.

After a night in Tent City,

We soon made fast tracks.

 

We learned about burros,

Although you can’t ride.

They’ll carry lots for you,

If you stay on their “good side”.

 

We climbed the tree,

With spikes and belt.

And when we were down,

How great it felt. FALLING!!!

 

We climbed the rocks,

And then rappelled down.

We knew it was no place,

To be clowning around. FALLING AGAIN!!!

 

We stopped at “Cito”,

And picked up food.

Although the clerk thought so,

We weren’t being rude.

 

We explored the Mine,

And heard “Charlie’s Tale”.

The gold we panned,

Didn’t budge the scale.

 

We finally got to see a bear,

And take his picture too.

He didn’t get our Bear Bag,

But he enjoyed the other crew’s.

 

We made it up Ole’ Baldy,

The climb she wasn’t easy.

And when we reached the top,

It was really breezy.

 

The Munchies, the Vita’s,

The Tetrox, the cheese.

All kept us too busy,

To climb any trees. (Trots or Not)

 

The horse riding was great,

The saddling was fun.

But why did some guys,

Make them all run?

 

We hiked down the North Fork Urraca,

The Comanche also.

Just where we were going,

We didn’t know.

 

We climbed The Tooth (of Time)

And enjoyed the veiw,

We only missed sunrise,

By an hour or two.

 

The packs were heavy,

The days were long.

The nights were short,

After our favorite song.

 

The map it was right,

And the trail signs too.

It must have been our compasses,

That gave us the screws !

 

We took some side hikes,

We bushwhacked a little.

But considering the Itinerary,

We solved the riddle.

 

The Mountain Search and Rescue,

Was really very trying.

But our First Aid training,

Helped us keep the guy from dying. (Pete Bradfield)

 

We’re on our way home now,

It’ll be a while yet.

But I’m sure the SCARF CREW,

Doesn’t have any regret.

 

So here’s to Philmont boys,

May we always remember.

When we’re sitting around our camp fires,

Watching the dying embers.

 

We’d go again,

Of that I’m very sure.

Because it’s a Scouter’s dream,

An experience so rich and pure.

 

By: Charles “Dan The MAN” Hutson

Expedition # 725 A-2

Itinerary # 19-B

August 11th, 1977

This poem is dedicated to a GREAT crew.