Philmont

Today we climb a mountain! I’m not actually all that excited about this, but I gotta feign enthusiasm, apparently thats one of the roles of a leader, so they say. Waking up at four am to the beep beep beep of my watch I yawn deeply and shake Ian awake. “Get up man, we gotta break down camp by 4:45”. “Aww fuck no man, lemme sleep… five minutes…” he says through two layers of jackets and a full body sleeping bag. Goddamnit, Ian is always trying to pull this shit on me. I leave the tent and take a wicked piss on a nearby tree; I swear if it gets any colder my dick is gonna fall off. Fortunately we do have some reliable kids in the troop. Unfortunately, one is basically a hamster on meth and the other is a world class bitch. Per tradition, I suck in a lungful of air and at the top of my lungs below “GOOD MORNING CAMPERS!”. This is, of course, followed by the official boy scout responses of “Ugghhh, its still darker than a monkey’s taint outside” and other assorted pleasantries. Eventually I beat the sloppy fuckers into a rumpled amalgamation of bleary-eyed, under-fed, man-children. And off we go. As we leave camp, the sun still ain't up, and we munch on the breakfast of champions: pre-packaged cereal bars, oatmeal cookies, Spam, and squeeze cheese. Making our way up to the base of Baldy Mountain takes around an hour and a half. If I had to describe the view in one word, it would be: orgasmic. As we reach the base camp at the bottom of Baldy, there lies a stunningly beautiful valley. As the sun emerges from slumber, its golden rays peer out across the Tooth of Time and scorch a vivid front of orange and red across the otherwise bleak landscape. Out of this nearly religious contemplation comes the voice of an angel: “Getoffyerlazygodam...

... middle of paper ...

...akes me proud to be a Scout, and more so, a scout in my particular troop. “According to the scout law, a scout is friendly, kind, and clean,” says Ian, “you defiled these basic tenants of Scouting, we may curse and tell shitty jokes, but they are never intended to harm or at the expense of others.” Following the trail-hike, we talk with our chaperones about what happened. I am pleased to say we as a troop go on to tell his name, position, and transgression to the outpost he worked at, the chief Philmont ranch chaplain, and in the exit surveys by every member of the troop. While it may seem like a relatively small victory to ensure he will not get his job back next summer, it made me realize that I could still be a Boy Scout regardless of being bi, and that non-heterosexuality is not only a non-issue for my troop, but it is something I would even be defended for.