As the miles pass beneath our feet
and one beauty follows another:
mountain and mesa, ridges and valleys,
vistas, brooks, deer, and wildflowers,
still the crew moves onward.
The crew: a simple word,
full of complexity for those who came.
Many stumble, some more than once,
but love and help is always there.
Campsites become routine, jobs done
without need for asking.
As our strength grows,
so does the crew's love and trust in each other.
Shared burdens and shared joys make us
strong and fill us with songs and laughter.
When we depend on each other for water and food,
surely we see ourselves and each other
in a new light.
Topping Wilson Mesa, climbing the Wall,
At the peak of Baldy.
Pride and happiness for those that struggled
and still made it.
There's no shame in stumbling and, with time,
no fear of shame.
How we can come to love one another!
And still know our flaws.
What strange paradox makes us excited to be
on the trail, only to soon be longing
for the love and comforts of home?
The last day is bittersweet, wanting real food
and a shower and yet not wanting to go.
Could we really do it all over again?
Once home, we want to do it all over again,
to capture the sounds and smells and feelings
of Philmont, Scouting paradise