Blog intro

This is a Blog so it is ordered from the bottom up. To view from the beginning scroll to the bottom and work your way back up to the top.

Troop 3 double H trip continued - follow link

Click here to go to days 7 through 12 of our trip

Home sweet home at Gibson well

This jackrabbit was about the size of a beagle.

Ben makes himself useful

Leave no trace. We make good use of the smallest bit of shade.

Don't let go of that fence.

We found the rest of the elk bones

This elk had a bad day

Onward

Chain gang

Taylor gives us technical instructions. "Pick up rocks and pile them up"

See how healthy the fishies are ?

Pumping water is a social event

High tech windmill

After awhile we plunge down a canyon on the other side.

Taylor chows down

What flavor gorp do we have this morning ?

The whole crew

Hey guys, how about a group picture.

On top of the world

This one is for mom.

Awesome

Like I said

A great place for family portraits

It's worth the view from the top

Lovely

Up and over

Or, we could stay on the road...

Day 6 - Tall Pine to Gibson

Today is a big day. We are scheduled to do our service project today and also to have a more formal leave no trace training session. HH photographers will be taking pictures of the LNT event for some publication or other.

After a short morning hike down the road our crew leaders stop us at the foot of a long steep talus slope. The route they had planned for us goes up and over. The advisors do a quick and spirited evaluation. The road we are on goes where we want to go. Yes it is soft and dusty to hike on, but it is also flat. Very flat. The talus slope looks daunting but being the good advisors that we are we leave the decision to the scouts. The vote is 5 to 1. Up and over it is. Groan.

It turns out to be a turning point for the trip. There are two ways that you can do HH. Follow the dusty roads and sandy washes in the valleys or go up to the mountain tops and ridges. As soon as we get to the top of that mountain we understand the difference. The views from the top are breathtaking and well worth the climb. We spend an hour or so on the top eating breakfast, exploring, and enjoying the views. As the boys said yesterday - “We didn’t come here to hike on roads.”

Double H and Philmont are totally different experiences. At Philmont you hike to get from program to program. There is time pressure on the trail to get to the next location, claim a good camp site and get signed up for the activity. At HH the program is the hiking. Instead of hurrying to the next camp we often take our time enjoying locations that we find along the way. Granted there is some pressure to get to camp before the afternoon heat but for the most part we take our time and enjoy the travel.

The hiking conditions at HH constantly vary. I expected to descend another steep talus slope and am surprised as we plunge into a thick pine forest. We follow a dry stream bed canyon down to Gibson well where we will do our service project. The water here is constantly flowing due to a solar pump in place of a windmill. There is never a shortage of sunshine to drive the pump.

Our service project consists of repairing boulder “dams” across a dry river bed. The purpose of the dams is to trap sediment when water is flowing and also to cause more water to soak into the ground. This leads to more vegetation on the banks, less erosion, and other good things. Two dam building philosophies quickly materialized. My philosophy is to gather lots of smallish rocks. The other philosophy is to roll and manhandle large boulders. Both probably end up moving the same volume of rock however the boulder moving seems to be more satisfying at a primal level. After repairing 10 of these dams we were on our way again.

The afternoon provides the first major instance of discord within the crew. It’s already been a long day and we are hiking across a broad flat area dotted with 15 foot bushy pines. We are spread out as usual. The rabbits in the crew, including the crew leaders, take off on the flat ground leaving the turtles in the dust. It is the first time the crew gets separated. Both groups are frustrated and express themselves energetically. This provides good material for a leadership conference that evening. Leadership is more than just marching at the head of the pack.

We stop for a Leave No Trace program at Blue Mesa and were photographed from every angle. We never did find out where these pictures are to appear.

We got into camp pretty late and played catch up the rest of the evening. The other crew that left with us is also at this camp and we find out that two of their members had to leave the trail. A Scout and an advisor. Thankfully no one in our crew has shown any signs of altitude problems or dehydration and we are all in good physical shape.

I go down to the water tank to pump water and I have the place to myself. It is really pleasant sitting silently and watching the swallows perform their acrobatics as they stop for a drink. They zoom in over the water like jets doing touch and gos on an aircraft carrier. Skimming just a fraction of an inch above the water they break the surface with only the tiniest tip of their lower beak. They cross the tank in a second and then pull up and circle for another run. The speed and precision involved is truly amazing.

It’s late by the time all my chores are done and I fall into bed without even brushing my teeth. I can hear my mom’s voice as I drift of to sleep “You know your teeth will rot if you don’t brush....” but mom, I'm too tired.

Tim is either blessing the camp, trying to fly, or just airing out.

Pilot to co-pilot, pilot to co-pilot.

Ryan watches the water not coming out of the windmill pipe.

Not a breath of wind

The extra tarp pole sections make a great flagpole

The advisors help the boys find the bear box and kybo.

Flowers manage to find a way

Mutt & Jeff

This tree has been around

Hey Steve, look how flat and safe it is down here !

Hey Neil, C'mon up

Ryan

Yea, I'm cool

If there are rocks, the Scouts will have to climb them.

The best part of climbing up is looking back at where you came from.

Good thing Andy didn't sit here

Andy ponders his fate

Look out for the ssssssnake !

We are definitely going up

I love the way the grass curls into these perfect circles.

Heading out - you may notice it's not exactly the crack of dawn.

Topping off the water - pumping pumping pumping

Packing up

Day 5 - Thursday - from Deep Well to Tall Pine

I wake up in the middle of the night and immediately find myself in the “unhappy camper” category. I am lying flat on the ground. The luxurious cushion of air I drifted off to sleep on has wandered away sometime during the night. My air mattress is flat as the terrain at basecamp. I go back to sleep while counting the pebbles poking me in the ribs.

The crew leaders decided to eat breakfast on the trail so we pack up and head down to the water tank to top off our water. The water in the tank here is fairly clear and easy to pump. The goldfish added to keep the algae at bay look healthy and happy. We brought 3 MSR filters and they work great all week. They are very dependable and easy to clean. We also treat the water with Polar Pure to kill any viruses that might slip through the filter.

We head out of camp on a bearing provided by our navigators and start our first real day of hiking.

Soon I am convinced that we are going the wrong way and are not following the plan that the Scouts set out the night before. I make sure that the Scouts, other advisors, lizards, and anyone else that might be within earshot know my misgivings. After an hour or so on the trail we stop for a breakfast of gorp, breakfast bar, beef jerky and dried apples. Gorp is part of every breakfast and I will be amazed by the end of the trek how many different varieties there are.

Ben and Christian get out the map and GPS and do a map check. They show me where we are and the route that they had planned for us the night before. We are exactly where they expect us to be and smile broadly while delivering that news. I apologize to Christian and Ben for doubting their abilities and take a vow that I will henceforth follow them over hill, dale, and wherever else they choose to lead. And keep my mouth shut.

Taylor has taught us to avoid hiking in a line so that we do not create a trail. This is not as easy as it might sound. We dutifully spread out across the hill and work our way up between the scrub trees only to find ourselves back in single file after 25 yards or so. We are so used to hiking on each others heels on a trail that it is not easy to avoid. I concentrate on finding my own way off to one side. Bushwhacking in this country soon turns into a game.

Bushwhacking through this landscape is like walking a maze. We have to zig and zag between the trees and scrub always scanning ahead for the open areas. Every once in a while I arrive at a dead end and have to back track a little or force my way through a tangle of branches. Occasional vocal outbursts from other members of the crew let me know that they are also enjoying the occasional “put your head down and plow” method of hiking through the brush.

There is suddenly a commotion up the hill from me. When I get there an excited Ryan points out the rattle snake that is coiled and ready to strike about 15 feet up the hill. I hear the hissing of it’s rattle immediately but it takes me a minute to see it, it is so well camouflaged. Everyone takes a good look while I snap some pictures. I assure some of the scouts that this is not an animitronic simulation but the real thing. Just like on animal planet.

We have spent a good part of the day hiking up a long hill to a ridge we plan to run before descending to the next camp. At the top of the ridge we find a jeep trail which we assume goes to our next camp at Tall Pine.The boys go straight across the road and continue to hike up, over, and around the rock formation that runs along the ridge. (Actually the Scouts hike up and over while I hike around). The Scouts say they did not come to HH to hike on a road. Amen to that.

Coming down the other side of the ridge we spot the water tank and windmill at Tall Pines. It has been a tough first day and we are all pretty tired. We flop under some pine trees near the windmill and eat lunch. The scouts pick a campsite only to be told by Taylor that it is in the “bearmuda triangle”. It takes a while to find the bear box and the latrine. We won’t be able to find the sump until later that afternoon when Taylor conducts a search and rescue exercise with the boys. The latrine is rescued and found to be in good condition except for a little sunburn and dehydration.

Taylor is doing a great job for us. He is pretty invisible much of the time but intervenes when necessary. He quickly established a good relationship with the Scouts. He is easy going with a great sense of humor. We all feel lucky that he has joined our crew.

The water here is very green and a little on the thick side. No goldfish. While eating lunch I see the windmill actually turning occasionally so I tie a pot under the meager trickle coming out of the pump. The wind soon dies completely however so most of our water is pumped out of the tank with us stopping to clean the filters every couple of liters. We learn the hard way that the wind usually picks up in the late afternoon and early evening and gets the windmills turning. We will try to time our water pumping to the windmill schedule in the future.

We are all carrying 4 to 6 liters of water on the hikes depending on the length of the days trek. I usually end up with a liter left over when I get to camp. I always groan and whine that I carried that liter all day and didn’t need it but I am also quietly happy that I have enough water to put off pumping until I feel like it or until the wind picks up.

I try to patch my air mattress so I can take a nap. The hole is a tiny bit of seam that has split and the patch slows things down but will not stop the leak. I should explain that my air mattress is, well, low tech. A $2.00 vinyl blow it up yourself poolside air mattress. There are no dolphins or smiley faces on this one but I have carried those in the past. I have found that this cheap air mattress coupled with a foam pad for insulation weighs a little less than a thermorest and is 10 times more comfortable. Inflating and deflating takes some time and effort but it is a small price to pay for a comfort level that approaches my bed at home. This particular mattress has been on a half dozen campouts with me to make sure it is sturdy enough. Of course the first time I have one of these fail has to be at HH .Go figure. If I double the foam pad for my upper body I can be comfortable without the air mattress and out here I do not need the foam insulation under my legs. I still blow up my ailing mattress every night so that I can go to sleep in luxurious comfort even if I know I will wake up in the middle of the night on the ground again. Oh well, if this is the worst thing I have to deal with I can’t complain.

In the afternoon I put some campsuds and water into a giant ziplock I have brought for the occasion and wash some underwear and a T-shirt. I brought 2 T-shirts and 3 pair of briefs, counting on being able to do some laundry. I also take a sponge bath at the same time. The sponge bath feels really wonderful. Although I carried a camp towel with me I don’t need to use it in the hot dry air. There is a lot to be said for being clean occasionally.
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Ben and Christian make a flagpole from the extra flag pole sections and hoist the flag. It’s a nice addition to our campsite.

We go to bed that night under cloudy and threatening skies and bring rain gear into the tent just in case. I blow up my air mattress for a precious hour of comfort and go to sleep. The storm is all bluster and no substance and soon dissipates into the night.

All the oogees (sp?) go here.

This view gives a hint of what we will be seeing.

How come it says "Montana" here at the bottom?

Let's see, is tonight chicken and noodles or noodles and chicken?

The blind leading the blind. Preparation for cross country navigation.

The last photo of advisors smiling.

Steady - don't fall in the imaginary lava.

Home sweet home.

Trying to find a flat spot to pitch a tent.

The boys decided a funky Phil tent would work better than the tent they brought from Ohio with no fly.

A quick map check before donning our packs.

Head for the hills!

We're going where?

The shopping cart.

How many scouts does it take to bug a quarter master ?

Let's see, did you want the T-bones or the Filet ?

Unpack, pack, unpack, pack, etc.

Gosh, a whole stall all to ourselves.

The moment of truth. Ben was worried about being below the weight cut off.

Beam me up scotty.

There's the gate but where is the camp ?

Jody Foster was not here that day.

Next!!

Waiting for the van.

The condemned men ate a hearty breakfast.

Day 4 - Wednesday - we arrive

Waking up in the dorm it takes me a minute to figure out where am. I help rouse the boys and then pack up, making sure all my water bottles are filled with yummy tap water. We have heard bad things about the horrible green slime water at HH. Breakfast is great. All you can eat and a good variety of muffins, fruit, eggs and sausage, good coffee. All breakfast items we will definitely not be seeing on the trail. We finish breakfast and then go back to the dorm and haul our stuff out to the road. The van arrives right on time and we load up the roof rack. The sky is an unbroken blue so there is no question of fooling with the tarp this morning, thank goodness. The country between Socorro and HH varies from totally flat to rolling hills to sharply cut mountains. I wonder what exactly we will be hiking through.

Just before we get to HH we spot the Very Large Array. The radio telescope installation made famous in "Contact". I knew it was close to HH but didn't realize that it was right down the road. Our driver stops to let us to take a better look and snap some pictures. Very large is an understatement. Each dish could hold a baseball diamond. If it were up to me it would named the Ultra Humongous Array.

We get back in the van and in a couple of minutes are driving through the gate of HH. I didn't expect much and I am not disappointed. It is nothing like the tent city at Philmont. There are normally four crews heading out each day but today there are only two. Our crew and a crew from Michigan. We see a couple of crews coming in at the end of their treks. They look tired. One crew looks like they spent some time rolling in the fine dust covering the ground before making their appearance at base camp. I'm not sure how else they could have gotten so dirty by 10:00 in the morning.The "clean" portion of the scout law does not apply here.

At one time the base camp must have been some kind of cattle station. There is one permanent building that is now the medical building, some chutes and stalls now used for scouts instead of cows, and a few temporary buildings like you might see at a construction site. There are also two large white pyramid shaped tarps in the center of the area that carry on the outer space theme of the VLA down the road. This is all plopped down in the middle of, well, pretty much nothing. Dirt and scrub stretch flat as your computer screen in all directions for miles. The sun is very bright and very hot. I already find myself moving quickly between patches of shade. The difference in temperature between sun and shade is dramatic. The line 'Yea, but it's a dry heat" swiftly becomes the punch line of a joke that doesn't need to be told.

We unload and haul our stuff to one of the empty stalls and begin prepping for our trek. All our paper work is in order and check in goes smoothly. The advisors are relieved that blood pressures have gone down and not up as expected due to the altitude. We draw our troop equipment and food and head back to our stall. Our guide is named Taylor. He has us unpack our packs for a quick inspection and sees pretty quickly that we are well prepared. He gives us some tips on things that we will not need. With the current weather forecast hot, hot, and hot he suggests that we do not need the winter hats, gloves and sweaters that we dutifully included. We are more than happy to leave the weight and especially the bulk behind. Finally the packs are ready, the food is in, and all our other stuff is stashed in the shipping container used as a locker. We have a quick lunch of hamburgers and Gater Aid and load into vans that look like they were recently resurrected from the local junkyard. They get some hard use. We bounce our way across the flat on a dirt track through the brush. We are in the second van so we don'’t see much other than clouds of brown dust. We finally pull up at a gate in a barbed wire fence that stretches out of site in both directions. We unload and do a quick map check. Then we hoist our packs and trundle on down the "“road"”.

We are finally doing it. Backpacking in New Mexico. It'’s only a mile and a half to our first camp but I am hyper sensitive all the way. Is my pack fitting O.K. ? Is that left shoulder strap too short ? Are my boots going to be O.K. ? Is that heel slipping a little ? Will I have a blister in a few days? Will my hat stay on ? etc. etc. You get the idea.

We reach our first camp in no time and set up. There is a strong breeze blowing carrying the fine dust that we will be encountering for the rest of the trip. I run a finger tip down my cheek and feel the grit already building up there. The scouts figure out after a few tries that the tarp needs to be pitched low to stand up against the wind. They use 2 pole sections at each end instead of 4 and it works well.

In the late afternoon Taylor runs the scouts through some COPE exercises that are set up nearby. It is good to see that a different leader emerges during each exercise. Our prep campouts have already formed us into a pretty strong team.

Taylor also gives us the low down on the 'bearmuda triangle" between the water source the sump and the bear box. This is the area where the bears that visit our camp are expected to hang out. He shows us how to use the sump and other basics of HH style camping and "leave no trace". Dinner is dehydrated something or other that tastes pretty good and is easy to clean up.

After dinner Ben and Christian put their heads together over the map and figure out the best way to get to our next campsite. I intrude and learn enough to satisfy myself that I know their plan and that it is a good one. I will find out the next day that I don't know as much as I think I do.

The valley floor where we started is spread out below us. As the sun sets the lighting on the distant mountains changes dramatically from moment to moment. This is a dry and harsh land that does not welcome life. The plants around us are stunted and tough. It is silent except for bird sounds and an occasional fly buzzing along. There are no man sounds other than our own. I climb into the tent and fall asleep quickly. I drift out of sleep a couple of times and hear a family of coyotes howling in the otherwise silent darkness. Tomorrow the serious hiking begins.

Might as well get comfortable while we can

This place looks just like ... a dorm

O.K., which way to the nearest food.

Loading up the van to Socorro

Andy takes a break from euchre

There were some amazing houses around Las Vegas, N.M.

Here's the cowboy just after roping a steer.

Could that be our train ?

Watching the world go by

We wake up crossing the Mississippi

I'm not sure this looks much more comfortable

The boys have the same idea

Aren't they cute

Day 3 - Tuesday

The night passes surprisingly quickly punctuated by vague stops at unknown stations and people randomly moving up and down the aisles. I wake in the morning or maybe it is more accurate to say I acknowledge being awake. While sleeping on the train there is a lot of time spent deciding whether to just wake up, find a new position, glance out the window or try to sink back down into a deeper sleep. Morning defines itself by the increased number of people talking and moving around.

The morning after our first night on the train has the feel of a hurricane shelter. The faces are mostly familiar now and we have all seen each other at our worst, sleeping in odd positions and making odd sleeping noises. We are all still wearing the same clothes we started our journey in yesterday afternoon.

I walk toward the dome car to see what the land looks like now and pass a woman who is sound asleep with a small giggling girl in the seat next to her. I assume the girl is her daughter. The little girl is grabbing fists full of her mom’s fleshy face and pulling and twisting to create a series of caricatures – sometimes funny, sometimes disturbing. Her mom sleeps through it all. She must have had a long night.

I walk into the dome car and spot what must be two of our boys stretched out under a blanket. One lying on the floor and one across the seats. No one seems to mind.

I sit for awhile to see the world go by and spot 3 cowboys chasing a steer next to the train. Two of them keep it headed straight while the third moves in with a lasso and drops it expertly over the steer’s neck. I grab my camera when the action starts but it is almost over by the time the camera boots up. One of the drawbacks of a digital camera is the time it takes to get ready to shoot. I manage to get one picture before they disappear in the wake of the train. Real cowboys. Wow. We must be out west !

The scouts have found their own western character. A teenage bull rider is on the train. He wears boots, cowboy hat, and a belt buckle the size of a saucer. We are definitely out west.

We pull into the station at Albuquerque thinking about the shower and bed that await us in Soccoro. The van from American Transportation is waiting for us at the station. We load the luggage on the top of the van and cover it with a tarp in case of rain. The tarp turns out to be a really bad idea that the owner wanted to try out on us. Without going into detail we probably lost an hour fooling around with it before we finally convinced the driver to forget about it. It would not have kept the rain off anyway.

We arrive at the Mexico Tech dorm where we will be staying about at 6:45. I go immediately to the cafeteria to let them know we are here. They are just scooping the last of the ice out of the closed down salad bar and let me know that dinner ended at 6:30, not the 7:00 that we were told over the phone. This gives us the opportunity to practice our map skills as we walk downtown to find a place to eat. It does feel good to do some walking after days of sitting on the train. Sitting at dinner I can feel still feel the rocking of the train.

The steaming shower that I had imagined basking in is not to be. Oh, there is a shower all right but no hot water. The shower feels good but has to be quick and efficient. The beds are great though and I sleep like a rock. Tomorrow is it. We will finally see our destination.

Ahhh, Dinner at last.

The scouts quickly take over the club car.

We leave Chicago alongside the boats.

Uniform off. Whew, that's much better.

Getting settled.

All spiffed up in thier uniforms.

Hangin' out in the Chicago train station.

Nice view

At the top of the Sears tower.

Day 2 - Monday - Chicago and Points West.

We arrive in Chicago in time for lunch and have a few hours before the train leaves for Albuquerque. Steve and I volunteer to watch the pile of equipment while the rest of the crew goes out into the city. They return after a good lunch and a trip to the top of the Sears tower. The consensus is that the Sears tower is kind of neat but the $12 admission fee is way too high. One of the scouts also ran into the old postcard scam. (The panhandler “gives” you some post cards, then once they are in your hands demands that you pay for them). Rick was able to quickly straighten things out.

While the scouts are out seeing the sights, our packs are inspected by a bomb or drug sniffing dog. Although the canine does not show any lack of professionalism I think I detect a slight smile and wag of the tail. These packs have been dragged through a lot of Ohio wilderness in preparation for this trip and are probably loaded with smells that are wild and exotic to the sniffer of a Chicago working dog. It must be a nice change of pace from the musty closet smell of the average suitcase on wheels.

Like a bus station, a train station is a great place to observe our fellow man. I am instantly aware that the straw hats of the Mennonites waiting with us put my $5.00 made in china straw hat to shame. I also observe the most amazing pair of men’s shoes I think I have ever seen. They are gold alligator pumps. Not just a goldish color but metallic gold. In the sunshine outside and above us they would be dazzling. Just looking at them makes me want to dance. With shoes like that I could boogaloo down Broadway and then some.

We load onto the train for Albequerque and points west and quickly settle into our seats. This is the train I remember from my last trip to Philmont. Double decker, spacious, with a dome and club car. Much nicer than the commuter train we rode from Cincinnati. Soon after we board, the train crawls out from underneath the city next to the canal. We will cover over 1000 miles on this train and see a large part of the country slide past the windows over the next 26 hours.

I like the idea of going by train. In every adventure there is some kind of passage from the everyday world into another region where the adventure can begin. The train provides that transition in space and time as the land outside the windows gradually changes from the trees and small towns of the Midwest, to the seemingly endless plains of Kansas, to the arid and rolling country that is our destination. It is a joy to just sit and watch the land pass by wondering what the people are like that live in these different spaces.

We aren’t able to get into the dining car for dinner until 8:30 train time which is 9:30 our time. We are hungry and eager as they put us together in 3 booths. Our waiter immediately gains the admiration of the scouts by pouring chocolate milk perfectly while holding the carton a good 2 feet above the glass. During this operation the train is rocking and jerking more than it has at any time on our trip so far and not a drop is spilled. Later he will sheepishly admit that the one time a passenger tried to videotape this performance he choked and missed the glass. The resulting disaster was probably much more more entertaining than a clean pour would have been.

Being the last ones into the dining car we are also able to take our time and chat with the waiter after dinner. He is getting ready to retire after 32 years on the Chicago to LA run. He has had 2 knee replacements as a result of constantly having to move and brace himself against the movement of the train. He recounted his worst experiences for us included a passenger pulling out a hand grenade to try to get the bar opened early and an unfortunate experience with (I know it’s hard to imagine) a large group of Boy Scouts. Apparently the Scouts had the equivalent of a no holds barred food fight in the dining car, with the adult leaders taking a “boys will be boys” stance. Things got so bad that our waiter, Larry, walked off the train at the next stop. Later the adult Scouters were video taped enjoying themselves in a bar at one of the stations and the tape shared with high level scouting officials. I would guess that is the last time they led a Philmont contingent, or any other scouting function for that matter. On the plus side, Larry could not say enough good things about having Lena Horn as a passenger. He said she was gracious and wonderful and spent a lot of her time mingling and talking with passengers and crew alike.

Once again the problem of sleeping comes to the fore. The boys find some creative solutions including the seats and floor in the club car. I try once again to sleep on my back, give up after a half hour or so, find a sort of comfortable position on my side and doze off and on until morning.

Day 1 - Additional picutres

"All aboard the polar express...!"

The fountain kept us company

The boys dancing and listening to tunes. No, the cops never even drove by.

Picnic on the - sidewalk

Arriving at the (closed) station

Did we forget anything ?

The official crew portrait

Day 1 - Sunday - July 10

Double H has been constantly on my mind. Last week while looking out my office window at buckets of rain falling my first thought was “Could I handle something like this at HH ?” I mentally opened the lower compartment of my pack and got out my rain jacket, pants and pack cover. “Yup” I thought. “I’m ready”. That would be the last time I thought about using my rain gear.

As the crew gathers in the parking lot everything seems simple and complete. Load the packs in the trailer, drive to the train station, ride to HH and hike in the desert for a week. It is hard to reconcile these seemingly simple tasks with the enormous effort that has gone into getting us to this point. There have been months of planning and preparations. Practice campouts, Saturday morning hikes, collecting paper work, making reservations. The trip itself is just the tip of an iceberg. And now the worry is over, everything that could be done to make this trip a success has been done. All we can do now is relax and hope that we have not missed anything important.

We barely avoid a freeway closure before we are out of Columbus but soon are on the open road to Cincinnati. The train station is right off the freeway and we arrive in front around 8:30pm. Although the shops close at 6:00 we were told the station lobby would be open when we got there. It turns out the entire building is closed and the station lobby will not open until 11:00. That’s O.K. though. It is a very pretty area with a good view of the Cincinnati skyline and a nice grassy area where we can wait. Our train does not leave until 3:00 am so we have 6.5 hours to kill until we leave for Chicago.

The weather is perfect. Cool and comfortable.Waiting outside turns out to be a better option than waiting inside would have been. Even after the building opens we stick to our outdoor venue. The boys occupy themselves with frisbee, cards, music and general hanging out. I take the opportunity to play with my camera and explore the visual possibilities of the station. It was built in 1931 and has been beautifully restored. The art deco style offers a wealth of possibilities for a wanna be photographer with time on his hands.

At one point I try to nap a little. The grass is too itchy so I move onto the sidewalk. The pavement is still warm from the sunshine collected during the day. I relax deeply as a slight breeze wafts over me. As I close my eyes I am surprised by the volume of the roar from the city. It is a steady white noise occasionally cut by the sharp sound of a siren. Individual vehicle sounds porpoise out of the background roar. A truck downshifts to slow down on a freeway ramp. A kid winds out his Honda civic to hear the cool new pipes he just installed. This is all overlaid with the constant rain of the nearby fountain and of course the voices of scouts laughing and talking.

When we finally move into the train station a couple of scouts and I are entertained by an elderly woman who tells us a story about her girl scout troop climbing above the snow line so that they could build and spend the night in igloos. The location where this event took place is not clear to me but they were able to recruit a local Indian to go with them and teach them how to do it. The boy scouts who stayed in more mundane lodging in the valley were mightily impressed.

Finally ready to board, the station master looks like a character out of a novel. This fits with my romantic notions of train travel.

We were somewhat worried about our excessive baggage. The limit is 2 carry on bags and 1 additional purse or laptop bag. We are definitely pushing the limit with our back packs, bags of electronic entertainment, and clothes for the trip out and back. It turns out to be a non-issue. There is plenty of room for all our gear and the size and number of bags is never questioned. There is no bag check-in search or x-ray routine. We just grab our stuff and get on the train. There is a constant stream of Boy Scouts going to and from Philmont and HH so the train crew are used to us and know just what to expect.

The train from Cincinnati looks about as worn as I am feeling at 3:00 in the morning. I settle into my seat, put on my ear plugs and eye mask and try to find a somewhat comfortable position for sleep. This does not fit with my romantic notions of train travel. I will find during the entire trip that no matter how hard I try I simply cannot go to sleep while lying on my back reclined in the seat, the most comfortable position. I tell myself that going to sleep on my side is simply a habit which I should be able to change without too much effort yet I will find it impossible to change no matter how many times I try – with one exception. When I am listening to my book on CD in the afternoon I will fall sound asleep and miss 5 chapters.

Trying to lie on my side in a chair that only partially reclines is a difficult task. I find a position that seems comfortable and then scan my body to see what the consequences might be. Will my feet or hands go numb? Will my back be permanently bent into some odd curve? Will I end up on top of my seat mate or worse yet, fall out into the aisle? The remarkable thing is that in spite of the odd position I am able to sleep, at least some of the time.