An arrowhead always points the way. Ever think about that?

People occasionally say someone may be "straight as an arrow", meaning they head in a given direction, usually referring to a good and moral one, and don't wander left or right until they reach their target. Where the arrowhead leads, the rest of the arrow tends to follow, it just works that way.

On Wednesday night I mentioned Philmont in passing. Philmont is a scout ranch in New Mexico, which is the holy grail of scouting excursions. As a 14 year old boy, I went with my troop. It's a lot like a blizzard or a flood, exciting to talk about but not so much to live through. The older scouts who had gone filled our heads with talk of danger and excitement, and we younger ones were dreamy eyed about going there ourselves and proving how tough we were. Surely it wasn't that bad!

My first night there, you stay at base camp in "tent city", where you get trained before they let you loose on the countryside. We had a rattlesnake under our tent, which we thought was a good practical joke hearing it hiss and rattle until the ranger came and caught it and took it away while we watched with pale faces. Welcome to Philmont. Then we saw herds of buffalo and they showed us pictures of the scout who got trampled earlier that same year when he ignored the ranger's warning and went too close to them. Welcome to Philmont. Eventually we were taught to rid ourselves of "smellables", no candy, no candy wrappers, no nothing was to be kept in a campsite, It all went into a "bear bag" which we hung from a tree well away from us, so the bears (not happy little black New England bears but Rocky Mountain grizzly bears) would leave us alone and also not get our food. We saw lots of pictures of them and of scouts bitten by them. Welcome to Philmont.

Philmont for us was 110 miles hiked in 13 days, with a stop in the middle at Fish Camp. We climbed over mountains and across valleys and mesas. There were very few other scouts we ever saw. There were no houses, no roads, no city lights. This was back country all the way and you carried your food and tents with you. Hard core camping. Your reward, why, an arrowhead shaped patch you could hang from your uniform shirt pocket. If you fell off the side of a mountain (and some of us almost did) and broke your leg, you would have to wait while someone went about 10 miles to the next ranger station and he radioed in for a jeep to come take you out. And you got no badge! If you didn't finish, no matter what the reason, you did not get a badge. They hammered that into us.

I got sunburned on my upper arms so badly that before I noticed it had blistered and oozed long strings of skin and yuk down my arms. I thought it was tree sap that dripped on me. It was third degree burns and boy they hurt. Several layers of skin were gone, disintegrated. We pressed on to a ranger station and they gave me first aide. But when they went to radio for a jeep to come get me, l asked about that arrowhead. Would I still get it? No, but I could lounge around base camp and swim and have lots of fun while the rest of them finished the hike. Ice cream, easy days, no more stinking and sweating and carrying a pack. Real, clean water and real showers. But no arrowhead. We were not even half way through our hike yet, so I'd have quite the vacation while waiting for them.

Let me tell you to a 14 year old that sounded pretty good! And surely you can see it is the same for us spiritually. Being a Christian can be tough. We might look at others and say well this is fine for them but they don't have this serious problem that I do. They are not suffering like I am. They are not in pain, it's not fair. I want to just give up and take the easy way, the reward is not worth it. Life is too hard. Well two things made up my mind.

First, if I gave up and left all the food I was carrying (and I had a lot of it, I was one of the bigger and stronger boys) would have to be distributed among the rest. Everyone else would have to carry more weight because *1* quit. They were counting on me. But secondly, l wanted that arrowhead. I asked the ranger if I could keep going. He was not amused, this was a very serious problem and in the dust it could get infected and worse. But my scoutmaster prevailed, and we went on knowing that the next station was only 15 miles away. And then 15 more after that. And in the end, I made it. I cried like a baby when we saw base camp in the valley below the last mountain. But my friends cheered!

It is written that angels rejoice over one sinner that repents. I found out later my friends had snitched things from my pack to lighten my load. They helped me make it. And I got my arrowhead! Guess exactly where you wear it on a scout uniform? Of course, right over your heart.

Randy