2011 Music Pass Colorado

This was our 4th trip together as Backpacking Blood Brothers. The fires of New Mexico chased us to Colorado this time to the top of the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) mountain range. Music Pass Colorado was our destination with its several peaks that could be climbed from Music Mountain to Milwaukee Peak.

Every year we face obstacles that seem to threaten our trips: vehicles, budgets, fires, and this year blood pressure. However we have adopted a credo, "were just going." Why do we go? Is it the same desire that Moses had in wanting to see God up on the mountain top? Why the mountain top?

Looming in the smoky haze up from desert floor is raised behemoth booms with vaulted grim Music Mountain we see your rim. Will you eat us in one bite? or will we scale your peaking heights? It’s all unknown on our approach The mountain's music must be our coach. Tracing peaks on a topo map, sure at first, but then we scrap and reassess our whereabouts to pave new paths like Indian scouts.

But hark and lo and behold and see Music Mountain's majesty! and all her peers that pierce heaven leave us stunned, shocked and riven Glorifying the one who made such spectacular colonnades. Who else could render such majesty from a worldwide tragedy? On the shoulder of Music Mountain the climbers drink from trout lake fountains. Ever higher to rugged glory they pray to LIVE and tell their story. So why, one asks, do you climb so high? "To learn dependence" is our reply. Each wild step leads closer to death But also to Him who gives us breath.

At break of dawn our sirens shrill prayers are prayed for God's will. More mountain views on which we dine blood binds brothers in upward climb. Some don't listen, so fail to hear. They fall to their death with screams of fear. But the whisper is near. "You can make it!" speaks the flower to the soul that’s naked. Crushing stones are looming tall, Stumbling stones spell dooming falls but the Corner Stone, he marks the way with cairns to care ‘till the final day bodies creaking, legs are moaning our doubts are waning and courage toeing the fine thin line inside our minds. “I’m always here,” the Lord reminds "Don't look up all the way to the top, just step in His step and don't you stop.” Till we summit the summit of our fears and find the cairn God placed for us there! The Christ of Sangre, Sangre de Christo You made music, and for that we thank you. Jesuchristo, con rojo Sangre hizo las montanas, tambien.

2010 Santa Fe Baldy

Hey there, brother, let me lighten your load bear your burden on this old road this trail to the top sings its song its the music of the mountains to which we belong A wandering elk through the columbine dew then after the dusk fall the storms brew but not before the children spin and play falling on each other 'neath the milky way In the dark night God walks like thunder angel-bright lightening announces His wonder Pinon pine wounds make little amber gems they speak of early earth and the judgment of its sins Hey there brother can you see the aspen leaves? they quake and drop their dew in shimmering belief that the columbines below will drink from Aspen falls as my brother giggles " it's a small world after all." wandering crew is just goin' to the top blister, sting, swelling- brother don't stop a thousand feet up to Nambi sky cliff lake where one goes under to clean off his slate Hear the silence of mosquitos by redeeming bat wings hear the voice of many waters the symphonic stream brings let Him bind us together one, two, three He's in the chord and the melody Hey there brother, can you listen to its song? It's the music of these mountains to which we belong!

Blood Brothers: Running to Sangre de Cristo

"A humble man rises to a new low" - Terry Scott Taylor

"People don't think I know a butt load of crap
about the gospel but I doooo" - Nacho Libre

"A man makes his plans but God orders his footsteps"

A year ago we were greeted by two very unusual characters as we arrived in a snow storm to the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Unable to get a fire started, these two characters entered stage right. Max and Roy brought us a pan of coals and some dry wood after observing our futile attempts to start a fire. It was Max that taught us how to start a fire in wet conditions. He saved our trip. I can only imagine what the next night would have been like without their help. When we descended off the mountain with very little food we were greeted by Max and Roy. Max was holding a pan full of steak and onions. It tasted heavenly. Were these guys angels?

This years trip was a little different. Will Probst joined us in place of my son. Will and Rhonda have three children and just adopted two orphans from Haiti making a family of seven. Will soon learned about Max and Roy and our traditions that we established on our first trip, like learning the many uses of a bandana, watching Nacho Libre, eating at Spic and Span in Las Vegas, New Mexico, and writing a poem at the end. Our fearless leader Brian the Bard of ICR proposed changing our plans and said, "I did a little calculating this morning and I think we can make it up to base camp before dark." Fear ran through my bones and I shut the idea down before Brian could finish his thought. I get altitude sickness and need time to acclimate. But I didn't want to tell the other guys about this, for we are "men". So I said a little prayer, apologized and started hydrating.

Brian and I are huge Terry Scott Taylor fans so on our trip we listened to the Swirling Eddies- the midget, the speck and the molecule. Then we watched Nacho Libre, and talked about our wives. All good of course.

After 12 plus hours we arrived, put on our gear, and started ascending. I was thinking of Max and Roy as we passed their previous campsite and what Max said to me," Bring that pack over here and let me unpack the kitchen sink." I didn't listen to him last year but this time I did and my pack was 20 lbs. lighter.



We started at the trail head of Panchuela and ascended to our base camp at Horse Thief Meadow. The meadow was covered with lilies.


The next morning we were greeted with this sky.


So the best laid plans of mice and men, we tackled the mountain and we were scourged with hell hail.


Then we retreated to a warm fire and some warm grub. Brian is the king of building a fire but is not so keen on picking the right dehydrated food. We had to learn the weather patterns of the mountain. Wait is God's favorite four letter word that we consider vulgar and profane when He uses it with us. Will passed the time by doing a little whittling and Brian lost his spoon so he whittled a new one.<
Ed was joking about wanting to race up the mountain. The problem with racing Ed is that he is part donkey and mountain goat. Inspired by the Swirling Eddies-A humble man rises to a new low, Will and I took off a half an hour early without telling the other guys. We were on a quest to get to the place that I had lost my hat the day before.


The last third of the ascent to 12500+ feet is tough. Brian came in first, then Ed, Will and the real donkey takes up the rear. I had a little help getting there. Bono was singing Elevation in my ear and the last song as I reached the summit was Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

Sangre de Cristo means "blood of Christ" and with the help of my "blood brothers" we made it to the top. However, what greeted us upon such an ascent? A flock of fricken horse flies. Big suckers swarming all around. Jesus called Satan beelzebul, which means "Lord of the dung heap or Lord of the flies." I thought to myself how men spend their whole lives ascending to the top. Sacrificing their families on the altar of success. For what? To be greeted by the flies and then realize they were scaling to the top of the dung heap. We descended off the mountain quickly because of an upcoming storm. When we got to our base camp our fearless leader starts hacking away at this huge log because he wants to make the camp better than when we got there. So we joined in to accomplish this noble goal. So if you go to Horse Thief Meadow and go to the last camp space before leaving to ascend East Pecos Baldy you will find the "Man Lounge." The next morning we descended the mountain and just before reaching the parking lot I look to my left and what do Brian and I see? Max! Max greets us! Something peculiar happened. We were swarmed by flies and Max had no flies on him. We put up our gear and returned to visit with Max and his daughter Harmony. I asked Max, "Why don't you have any flies on you?" He said the key was to sit in the shade. Harmony invited me over to sit in the shade with them! Voila no flies! It gave me a new meaning to "sitting in the shadow of His wings" as the psalmist put so poetically. Max asked us where we were going and we told him that we were hungry and wanted to go into Santa Fe. Max said, "I have just the place." He proceeded to give us direction to Horseman's Haven Cafe.




Horse Thief Meadow to Horseman's Haven. An angelic practical joke? You decide.


Mummified, paralyzed
we break out of this bivy sack
we cry a song
Shadows speak, "you are weak"
to the top of this dung heap we crawl
ascend to the top
flies flock
will it taint the peace of the blue sky call?
"We know You are true, beyond the blue"
redemption revealed in my sons who are sealed

descending bending
walking after Your will
pain makes the sweetness sweeter still
made miraculous
the hummingbirds tweet
we pray to see You along this way
the path winds and then we find
the Lone Lily is in the valley!
an angel speaks
"sit in His shade"
Beelzebub's furious flies retreat
then we sing
beneath Your wings
Oh what a glorious day
You 've made!

2008 Mountain Miracle-You Decide

"As he walked on, all day, in the strength of the bread he had eaten, not daring often to look down into the gulf and keeping his head mostly turned a little inward to the cliff, he had time to turn his trouble over in his mind and discover new sides to it. Above all it grew upon him that the return of the Landlord had blotted out the Island: for if there were such a place he was no longer free to spend his soul seeking it, but must follow whatever designs the Landlord had for him." Pilgrim's Regress-C.S. Lewis

"Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, for he has no one to help him up." Ecclesiastes 4:9-11

"Seize Life! Eat bread with gusto. Drink wine with a robust heart. Oh yes-God takes pleasure in your pleasure! Dress festive every morning. Don't skimp on colors and scarves. Relish life with the spouse you love each and everyday of your precarious life. Each day is God's gift. It's all you get for the hard work of staying alive. Make the most of each one! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily! This is your last and only chance at it. For there's neither work to do nor thoughts to think in the company of the dead, where you're are most certainly headed." -Solomon MSG

It was late on Tuesday night when I received a phone call from my good friend Ed Downing. He said, "Brian and I are going on a backpacking trip this weekend do you wanna go?" Brian was planning a trip to celebrate his dream job he just got with ICR. You see Dallas Baptist University was foolish enough not to renew my friends contract and in my opinion Expelled one of the greatest minds of our time. Brian Thomas is a dad, husband, poet, scientist, and mountain man. Ed is the greatest dad on the face of the earth and has been my role model. In fact, Ed and Marla adopted two more children not too long ago. However, both of my friends are lunatics when it comes to the outdoors. Ed has done the 100 mile Hotter then Hell ride and Brian is an Eagle Scout and former backpacking missionary. Both are experienced backpackers...my gut reaction was to say "no" because I didn't want to pay for it in the pain I would experience... but these two guys are not only my good friends, they are men of God. I said "let me think about it and I'll call you in the morning." The next morning I woke up and was contemplating...You see it was my son's thirteenth birthday this coming week and I had tried to plan several "MAN TRIPS", one to the Grand Canyon and then one to Big Ben...both backpacking trips fell through for one reason or another. I got excited that morning as I thought about this trip with Brian and Ed. Was this the answer to my desire to celebrate my son's manhood?

Brian had planned a trip to Pecos Baldy in New Mexico. I discovered that Pecos Baldy was in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Sangre de Cristo means "blood of Christ" and we would be pitching our base camp just beyond Holy Ghost creek. I talked with Brian that day and I told him my story and how I wanted my son to go. He had some goals for the trip but he thought that we could make it work. Two hours later we were at REI buying gear.

We left Friday morning at 4am.
We arrived at our campground thirteen or so hours later and made a mad dash to get out of our shorts into our winter gear for it was snowing.









We pitched our tents and then tried to start our fire. Everything was wet and Brian, the Eagle Scout, refused to use "girl scout juice" to light our fire. After a while we tried the girl scout juice and still had no fire. Then, enter stage right, our new neighbors Max and Roy. Max was holding a pan full of coals and Roy was carrying some wood. Max is a mountain man and world traveler and Roy is a musician who plays classical music with a group in Santa Fe each Thursday night.


We consider Max and Roy to be our guardian angels. Max is an angel with a strong right hand and has comic timing. He would start conversations with a joke like, "A penguin walks into a bar and says, 'have you seen my father?' and the bartender replies, 'what does he look like?'" Roy was an angel with a Zen like quality and sang me a song using Tibetan throat singing. After Roy and Max left us with a fire we were able to have dinner.
The next morning we got up and set off for our journey up to Horse Thief Meadow. After a six hour ascent we arrived at Horse Thief Meadow. Zach and I learned to take baby steps, keep our knees together, adjust our packs for uphill and downhill. Brian was an excellent teacher! We were able to start a fire because Max taught us how to start a fire when everything is wet. You take a candle and place it in the middle of some old charred wood and slowly add kindlin' from some dry stripped pine. Zach was so tired he fell asleep blowing up his air mattress. Brian packed his trusty backpacking tarp and made this real cool camp for him and Ed to freeze in. Max and Roy told us to soak our feet upon arriving at our destination. The second day Brian started us with a pep talk about the tempo of the trip. He said that he had a personal goal to keep a tempo for the hike that day and that if we found it that we would expend less energy with more productivity. What happened? We kept time with the person we were paired up with and Zach tore up the mountain following Ed. Ed is a mountain sheep on the ascent and Zach led the way down the switchbacks! We ended our trip that day receiving hospitality from a group at the bottom of the trail. Mary offered us some deep fried trout and water. Later that evening back at the camp Max and Roy brought us some sirloin steak fried in butter with onions and squash. Max also taught me how to use mistletoe to start a fire. You see I was in charge of the fire and arrive back at camp to Max showing me this little trick. Brian said, "I see you have done your job!" The next morning we packed up to head home. We stopped at a place called Charlie's Spic and Span in Las Vegas New Mexico. Yes it was at the prompting of Max and Roy. Zach told me that this was the most spiritual trip that he had been on. I asked him "why" and he told me that he had prayed to God to give him the strength to make it. He said, "that it felt like someone was lifting his pack!" On the way home Brian and I wrote some poetry about our trip together along with the fine art of the many uses of the bandana.





We wrote this poem for Zach.









Speak to me, O aspen tree.
Snow capped peaks and field of green
The grace of God is in this scene
I'm listening to birds that sing
to the bright-colored flowers of the spring
God's voice is heard in the wild fling

My flesh reviles mountain climb
spirit take my reigns of mind
to find the tempo of the tide
that's right for ev'ry step and stride
stumbling stone, and bending will
The grace of God is in this hill

The devil is at ev'ry mile
"give up the ghost" all the while
the Aspen tree speaks to me
of the way that things were meant to be
I breathe God's clean air thankfully

I wonder how God could be so good
to send and angel to find dry wood
against Satan's cold the candle stood

My child prays "help me withstand"
the wanton tortures of this land
then God unfolds his power and plan
and so my child becomes a man