Star-gazing in the Valle

The reality of seclusion blows in every sun-warmed gust of wind, carrying the fresh scent of ponderosa pine through the 110,000 acre Valle Vidal. You can smell it. For the three Philmont staff camps in this area of the forest (Whitman Vega, Seally Canon, Ring Place), however, being two hours away from civilization isn’t a bad thing. Low crew-load. Down-time. Surrounding beauty. And when they aren’t on a search and rescue mission, mountain-biking or gazing at the stars, they are visiting each other; a close-knit community working for Philmont, but outside of its boundaries. And at Ring Place, the largest of the three, perks reside in living on a former ranch, with a cabin, a cowboy and the 30K.

Traveling to Ring Place takes about an hour and a half, riding over a public access road: gravel all the way. Dozing off, I awoke with my head banging against the tinted passenger-side window, to the vibrations of the truck riding over gravel waves. Driving and accompanying me on my expedition is NPS Manager David Counts. Most days, his black Nissan just sits outside the NPS office.

Arriving at the ranch before sunset, Dave parks the car in the staff parking lot. Gathering our stuff, we make our way to the cabin, crossing a field and passing a large white yurt to our right. Anticipation sets in; they don’t know we’re coming.

At the cabin, two staff members are busy supplying a crew with meals from their commissary. “You two staying the night?” one asks with a hint of enthusiasm. We tell them we are, and they invite us into the cabin.

Entering a duly lit room, I put my stuff against a wall next to a fireplace in the corner. This is the “Camper Lounge.” From the ceiling pokes a propane light socket. No electricity. In the center of the room stands a large wooden table, surrounded by wooden benches, at which two advisors sit, sipping coffee and picking at doughnuts from a plate on the table. It’s advisor’s coffee. No campers allowed in this lounge now.

Waiting till they left, I tried a doughnut and was told they are homemade. “That’s why our advisor’s coffee is the best, because every night we either bake something or have left over meals, which include chicken-fried elk,” P.C. Jeff said. “[Once] we Captain-Crunch-fried chicken. Another time we fed the advisors supreme pizza. It was comparable to outback pizza,” he said. “Nobody comes to Ring Place and doesn’t eat. We do things differently up here.”

Music to my ears, my friend.

After coffee, we went out to look at the starry night-sky; the primary program at Ring Place. Pointing at the constellations with a green laser, P.C. Clayton told the stories associated with a handful of constellations. It was like listening to gossip or hearing a soap opera over the radio. I learned more about Greek mythology, than about scientific facts, and suppose that in an age before television, the Greeks just made up stories about gods that didn’t exist.

Looking through the telescopes, however, was a much different aspect of the program. There are three at ring place, all of which are at least 10 years old. Two still work. So while Clayton told the mythology, Jeff set them up. It was fascinating to see Jupiter and its four moons.

But there are other things in the sky too. Since they’ve been there, the staff has seen the International Space station streaking the night sky twice, not to mention the nightly display of asteroids and comets. “We say the International Space Station just as it was departing,” Jeff said. “You won’t see it every night, maybe once a week. They were following each other real close," he said. "They are obviously much bigger than any satellite up there.”

In the morning, I learned more about the camp. Other than star-gazing, Ring Place also has a “Cabin Tour,” in which they don’t actually go inside the cabin, and a weather-program, using instruments such as a barometer, a rain gage, a thermometer, a sling-spectrometer and a wind gauge. However, the most beloved weather-instrument in the area is the large weather rock, which hangs wrapped-up in rope from a log-legged tripod.

“The way a weather rock works is if it’s wet, it’s raining; if it’s white, it’s snowing; if it’s swinging, it’s windy; if ours is swinging, it’s real windy,” P.C. John Christian said. “The weather rock is very reliable.”

Also regarding the weather is the camps nightly weather broadcast over the radio, after itinerary readout. But it is not just about forecasting the weather. They are currently dedicating each broadcast to a different camp and are encouraging staffers to send in jokes and request, inducting them into their “Junior Weather Broadcasters Club.” Weather forests can be entertaining after all.

Before lunch, I took a good look around. Most of the buildings built on Ring Place Ranch were built in 1890, or at least that’s when construction began. That year, Timothy Ring bought the land from the Maxwell Land Grant Coop. His original cabin, which still stands today but is boarded up, contains six bedrooms. In front of it is are the ruins of a chicken coop, to its left are the staff cabin and trash shed and behind it are an old well and a still-functional stable and barn.

The staff cabin, built in 1945 by W.J. Gourley, is perhaps the newest standing structure in the Valle. Because everything is a historical artifact, being untouched for over 50 years, nothing more can be built on the land, for fear of destroying it. While the other Valle camps live in yurts (or used to) and sleep in tents, the staff at Ring Place live in Gourley’s cabin and sleep in their yurt. Also the largest of the three camps, having a cabin makes them the Valle’s commissary. But Philmont doesn’t own the cabin; during the summer, they rent it from the National Forest Service. It, too, is considered an artifact.

Some other artifacts, shards of glass, pottery and nails, powder the trail to the 30K. Dully glinting in the sun, they catch the corner of my eyes as I wander to my destination 100 yards away. Turning off the main trail, I follow a short pathway lined with twisted logs, bleached by sunlight. It is a kingly entrance to the best toilet in the backcountry.

Exactly why this outhouse cost 30 thousand dollars to make, I do not know. Nor does it matter. For the six staff members at Ring Place, though, it is serious bragging rights. Built upon on a concrete foundation, and with ventilation flowing air through the underground storage pit, it does not smell like a Red-Roof. In fact, once inside, there is no smell at all.

“The reason why there’s a 30K here is because it’s an archeological site, so they didn’t want to build a bunch of cat-holes,” Christian said. “So Philmont had to pay to build the 30K. There’s broken glass, old broken nails, there’s pieces of broken china, a well; the whole place is an archeological site.”

Although the 30K is a fistful of luxury in the rugged Valle, the location of Ring Place is nothing civilized. To the east is Mt. Baldy and to the south is Little Castilla. But for those living on “Ring Ranch,” having a neighbor helps break the solitude.

Less than 100 yards away from the staff cabin, in a small trailer next to the coral, lives cowboy Heath Smith. For six months out of the year, he is the caretaker of 1,600-2,000 head of cattle that cover the vast expanse of Valle’s terrain, grazing. “It’s good grass; good cow country,” Smith said. “Living up here, everyday is like a paid vacation. The country is really nice.”

Together, him and the staff live on the former ranch. “The guys are all good. They’ve been good to me,” Smith said. “They’re easy to get along with. I haven’t been over there much, [though]. Mostly been over here, taking care of my stuff.”

And then there’re the crews. “Oh, it ain’t too bad,” he said. “A couple of them dang near got themselves in trouble with the buffalo, but most of them are pretty good kids.”

These buffalo were brought to the area sometime in the 1930’s or 1940’s by Gourley. Originally from Yellowstone, the Buffalo that once roamed the Ring Ranch are now in the Cerizso Ranch to the east, owned by Ted Turner. “There’s six buffalo that keep coming back here because this is where they were born,” Smith said. “They kinda go where they want to go; pay no attention to fences,” he said. “They were wild.”

At the same time the buffalo were brought here, Gourley also brought several hundred elk from Yellowstone as well. They had been hunted out, so he restored them to the area. “Now look at them, they’re everywhere; they’re thick,” Smith said. At Philmont, there is a strong sentiment that working here is not having a “real-job” in the “real-world.” In the Valle, however, Smith disagrees with this perception.

“Up here, cowboy is more what you do than a name,” Smith said. “It’s who you are and what you do. This deal right here’s just like any cowboy’s job; I’m putting beef on the table for all of America.”

All by himself, the challenge of doing his job pushes him to his limits.

“Some days you have a horse down with you and you’ll have a hell-of-a-day. And the next day you look back and laugh at it,” Smith said. “You know you had all that hell, but you just get up and go on,” he said. “You got a job to do and your cow-punch is just the pride to get it done.”

For those who live in the Valle, life is rugged, having no electricity or running water. But at least the staff has solar panels and propane tanks, giving them refrigeration, stoves and the always-entertaining radios, keeping them a call away from help during emergencies. Also keeping them intact with Philmont are the weekly commissary trucks, dropping off supplies, and the water-buffalo refills.

All of these, however, are luxuries that Smith does not have. “I don’t have no radio. I have a cell phone, but I got to go on switchbacks to use it,” he said. “I’ve got to go to town to buy my own groceries. I go to do that probably once every week, [or] once every two weeks.”

Because the Valle is open to the public, people stop buy at the staff-camps, often on horseback, and even occasionally participate in the programs. These are often the only visitors the staff get, besides visiting each other, which they do often. And then there is the occasional staff member, just passing through.

“We go back and forth a lot,” said. “It’s actually not that bad,” Christian said. “We get a good number of staff that come through here about once every week.”

But not so for their neighbor. “Maybe once or twice a month [I’ll] run into people and you meet them up here, but as for people coming to see [me]; maybe once or twice a month [too],” Smith said.

Despite having more down time than the rest of Philmont, Valle staffers keep themselves occupied. Other than visit, they also share. “I read a lot. I have enough books to keep me busy,” said. “We sort of have a book-exchange program out here in the Valle. Well, us and Seally Canon, we exchange books a lot.” So unlike Philmont backcountry camps, their friendships are a little stronger. “I don’t really know much about it now, but we are planning on having an all-Valle Phil-fiesta, instead of just doing individual ones.”

Other than read books, however, there is nothing like good ‘ol porch-sitting. “I’d eat a coyote but not a dog, because it’s domesticated,” said. “I bet a coyote would taste real bad,” Clayton disagreed.

The conversation continued.

“Making a good original movie is harder than making a book,” [?] said.

“I disagree,” Clayton said.

“You can’t just say that books are better than movies, that’s opinion,” [?] said.

“Yes I can,” Clayton said.

“No you can’t. That’s like saying green is better than red,” [?] said.

“I think red is better,” Clayton said.

“Personally, I enjoy reading than watching something,” [said] said.

Despite their discrepancies, however, there is an ever-enduring peace in the Valle Vidal, as portrayed by the surrounding beauty of nature; the biggest reason why all of the Ring Place staffers chose to work here. Including the cowboy.

“Not too many places left like this in the world. It’s good they stopped ‘em from drilling on it,” Smith said. Everyone remembers the popular “Save it now, before we lose it forever” bumperstickers. “It made it all the way to the white house, and they signed a bill saying that they’d never drill on this place.”

Summer-job or six-month ordeal, there is just something almost surreal about the beauty of the Valle’s landscape.

“I don’t know. These mountains just kind of draw you. One those things where you know where you’re meant to be,” Smith said.