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Changes
Sep 5, 2009

It's been a while since I was here, keeping up my blog.  Almost a year since I posted anything substantive about my experiences, and since this is, in part, my journal, I would like to start again.  What a year it has been.

I left the Forest Service in 2003 to work with kids, and I've been doing outdoor education ever since, mostly with Outward Bound.  In November of last year I led perhaps my best course ever in the ..Everglades.., a co-ed course for troubled teens in which we were accused of having perhaps too much fun.  We had a wonderful course culture straight out of Peter Pan.  We talked about the lost boys, about how peoples had been getting lost in the Everglades since the days of injuns and pirates, and how no one ever got found until they were ready.  We talked about the value of getting lost for a while, of getting away from our real world problems long enough to get some perspective, to remember who we wanted to be if and when we grow up.  Our call and response (to get everyone's attention) was "Ahoy mateys!" and "arrrr".  We lashed our canoes together and sailed; we made our own floating island and dined under tiki torches; we 'discovered' a wilderness beach where the kids did solo campouts, then welcomed them back with a luau complete with pig and pineapple.  As much fun as we had, though, the kids still had their crisis moments - critical moments for their healing and growth.  They panicked, they wanted to give up; but when we would not let them they found their way through - together - and in the process they learned that they were stronger than they knew.  They were proud of themselves.  And during our brief follow up period it seemed to be making a difference.

In January of this year I had the honor of leading a very different course, an Outward Bound course for veterans of the Iraq and Afghan wars.  The course was paid for with a grant from the Sierra Club, and who knows what all the powers-that-be had in mind.  But we decided early on that we would let the veterans themselves tell us what they wanted from this experience.  We borrowed a line from Johnny Cash at Folsom prison:  he told the inmates that the show was being recorded and that he had a whole list of rules about what he could and couldn't say or sing... but that he didn't give a *%^#@ about all that; he was here for the inmates and he wanted to play whatever they wanted to hear.  So we kept the 'kumbaya' to a minimum (at the marines' request), and everyday we let marines choose between a lazy float trip or a wild bush-pushing exploration of unknown parts of the swamps.  Being recon marines, they chose the adventurous route every time     I have been paddling those backwater swamps, rivers, and bayous for most of my life, and I got to see spots I had never seen before.  Our one obeisance to 'counseling' was an open-ended go-around question over dinner each night.  With questions like, "what is the hardest part of your job, and what is your favorite part?", we learned that troops overseas and wilderness instructors have a lot in common - that we all miss loved ones and unstructured relaxation, but that we like to think we are making a difference, at least some of the time.  Contrary to some of the stereotypes (and don't we all get painted with stereotypes?), I found these young servicemen to be respectful, humble, crafty, and eager to learn.  I could only wish that all the service men and women representing us overseas were such positive examples.

The rest of 2009 has been a time of soul-searching and way-finding.  I left Outward Bound after that course, and the Boulder Outdoor Survival School had more instructors than students this summer.  With the economy in a slump and non-profits struggling, I decided to return to civil service, and have been seeking jobs with the Forest Service and Park Service, among others.  I worked this summer for the Forest Service in Westfir, OR (where I am this morning, in a sweet little cafe/coffee shop called the Trailhead).  I spent my first eight weeks supervising Youth Conservation Corps crews, so I still got to work with kids.  And they liked me enough here in Westfir to keep me on for some trail work, so now I spend my days hiking up to waterfalls and scenic overlooks, surveying bridges and rehabilitating tread, working up a good honest sweat under a canopy of towering firs.

Nights I spend in a little out-of-the-way spot off an old logging road.  My little truck (I bought a truck!  a veteran crafty little truck from my dear friend Glenn) is rigged for sleeping; I have a fire ring to cook over and make coffee in the mornings, a hot springs to soak in, a cold river to rinse in and to keep the beer cold.  I'm near an old logging town with a population of 3,000 that has recently become the mountain-biking capital of the country.  And Eugene (that organic, all-natural, unshaved hippy mecca) is less than an hour away.  I managed to find time to go sailing on Adventuress a time or two, so I'm keeping a hand in with the sailing.  And I think my Green Man tattoo-tapestry may be finished!  We are taking a few weeks to think about whether it needs any final touches. 

Who knows?  where I will go next?  It has been a year of changes, and the horizons are wide open. 
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Posted: Saturday September 5, 2009, 12:54 pm
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