Essay #11
The ranger at Philmont Ranch in Cimarron, New Mexico, gave us a compass and a map and told us to arrive at our camp—about 10 miles away—by sunset. After that, we were on our own. The ranger waved goodbye and wished us luck. Our group included 10 Boy Scouts, who ranged in age from 15 to 17, and two parent guides, who were as unfamiliar with this trek as we were. What could go wrong? This was the seventh day of our 80-mile, 12-day hike through the muddy Greenwood Canyon in northern New Mexico. This rigorous journey was part of the Philmont High Adventure program. During the whole day and for three days leading up to this grueling hike, rain pelted our backpacks, and the humidity fogged my glasses. The unusual and extreme amount of precipitation made the Greenwood Creek flood onto the trail, turning it into a bog. At times, the mud got so thick that it smothered our boots, adding more weight for us to carry. Despite this weather-related setback, we somehow continued hiking with energy and enthusiasm. Besides my brother, who was toward the back of the group suffering from multiple blisters, the other Scouts and I hiked at a fast pace. I knew all of them from previous campouts and hiking adventures near our home in Sarasota, Florida, but this was, by far, our most challenging expedition.
My experience with Scouting began when I was in 3rd grade. My father told me he wanted to take my brother and me to visit our local Cub Scout Pack. When I asked him why, he said we were couch potatoes and needed more activity in our lives. I was skeptical, but within a couple weeks, I was on my first campout with the Cub Scouts. Initially, I chased my friends around with sticks and avoided all the essential camping activities, such as setting up tents, making campfires, and learning how to read maps. This behavior pattern continued until middle school, when I graduated to Boy Scouts and got more involved in learning valuable skills, including first aid and map reading. At this higher level, boys, rather than their parents, led the campouts, and I enjoyed my new responsibilities. I was as surprised as anyone that I started having more fun.
If the culmination of years of academic work is a Ph.D. or an M.D. degree, the pinnacle of a Scout’s life is completing the backbreaking Philmont High Adventure program. I was eager to register but incredibly nervous about whether I could handle the challenge. The first half of the journey was relatively manageable until we arrived at Greenwood Canyon. After hiking for at least 10 miles that day, we figured we were close to our destination, but we ultimately realized we still had more than a mile to go. My body was aching with each step, and my 35-pound backpack was grinding against my shoulders and hips, when I heard Jude, a fellow Scout, start cracking jokes. Within seconds, others added to the silly dialogue, and our camaraderie helped us get through the muddy, rocky terrain to our campsite.
That day I learned how the positive actions of just one person could dramatically change the mood of an entire group of physically, mentally, and spiritually drained teenagers. Jude’s jokes helped us bond and feel more like a team during this punishing odyssey, and they gave us the fortitude to achieve our ambitious goal. Jude’s good humor and inspiring leadership gave me insight into how essential this brotherhood is in other areas of my life—such as when I’m on the football field with our marching band or burning the midnight oil with my twin brother to study for a daunting algebra test. I learned the value of collaboration and optimism—especially during formidable challenges—which I plan to incorporate into both my college studies and my professional career.