Showing posts with label the environment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the environment. Show all posts

Thursday, November 15, 2012

30 Days of Truth: Day 25-The Reason You Believe You're Still Alive Today

Honestly I have no idea why I'm still alive today. It's kind of a weird question.  It makes me think about the difference between determinism and free will.  If our lives are pre-determined, I supposed I'm still alive because I haven't reached the end of my path yet.  If our lives and deaths are created by our free will, then I'm alive because I haven't killed myself, and so far I've been successful in taking the necessary precautions to escape death.

I'm not really sure which theory is the actual truth, and I'm pretty sure nobody else knows either.  I tend not to believe in determinism, but who knows?  If it's in my power, then I do what I can to avoid death by avoiding disease and unsafe situations.  If it's not in my power, then I guess my efforts are futile, and whatever will be will be.

Every action we take creates a ripple effect that leads us down another path.  I read a book once that was all about this topic and whether or not it was possible to have parallel realities (each being different depending on the different choices we make and on the paths those choices lead us down).  It's called One by Richard Bach.

I can only remember one time in my life when I actually thought I was going to die. It was when I hung from the Triboro Bridge in NYC for Greenpeace to protest ocean dumping of toxic sludge. I need to write a separate entry about my experiences while working for Greenpeace. But during that action, we were suspended from climbing ropes above the East River for about nine hours. The police shut down the bridge and there were police cars all over the bridge and police boats in the water. A special operations helicopter flew underneath us with its lights off, which easily could have killed us. That was scary. I also remember when the police at the top of my rope threatened to cut my rope and put frog men in the water to fish me out. I looked up and saw police alongside my support people, and I looked down and saw divers in suits with inflatable boats. I started doing the math in my head, falling close to 150 ft. with climbing rope all around me into "hell's gate" of the East River. I wondered if I would die on impact or drown in the river coiled up in rope as the current sucked me down and spit me out downstream. The action coordinators on the ground handled things perfectly, communicating over radio that we were receiving live international news coverage, and if they cut our ropes they would be killing up to thirteen activists on live television. The police did the right thing, didn't cut our ropes, instead they gave us each an extra safety rope! So, in that instance I owe my life to Dave Hollister who coordinated and managed the entire action and to Scott Stoodley who protected my ropes and anchors and dealt with the police. Thank you Dave and Scott! Here is a picture (I'm the climber farthest to the right):


In hindsight, there were other times I was very vulnerable and could have been killed, but wasn't.  I lived outdoors in Colorado for a year and a half, and when I was in college I camped outdoors all the time.  Luckily, no crazy killers found me.

As an adult, I strive to take care of my health and stay fit to prevent disease. I firmly believe you are what you eat, and I have a weird relationship with foods because of all my allergies/intolerances.  I avoid wheat, corn, sugar, and eggs.  Although it's difficult to eat so clean in our society, it's worth it because I feel better and when I go to the doctor they tell me they never see numbers so healthy in my age group.  And then they ask me what's my secret. And I tell them, I eat right and exercise. Duh!  It seems so simple, but it's difficult to sustain on a day to day basis. 

I believe I'm still alive because I take care of myself and make safe choices in my adult life.  I believe I'm still alive because I've gotten lucky in averting death in the past when there was an opportunity.  I hope to live to be one hundred years old, and I hope to have a long healthy live with my family!


 


Monday, July 16, 2012

Life in Beautiful Places

     I fell in love with the ocean when I was a child. We took trips to Virginia Beach and Ocean City (Maryland) in the summers, and I was the kid you couldn't get out of the water.  I swam like a fish in the pool in the summers and was on the dive team briefly at my neighborhood pool.  I've always felt at home in the water, and as I grew older, I gravitated to the beach.  My friends and I rented beach houses for vacation in high school, and the summer after my freshman year in college (1987) I lived at Virginia Beach and made a living waiting tables and being a 'beach wench' who rented chairs and umbrellas on the oceanfront.  It was a fun lifestyle, but it didn't seem sustainable or the way I wanted to live as an adult, so in the fall I returned to my sophomore year of college back in southwestern Virginia.  It was during those first two years of college that I started rock climbing (in Virginia and W. Virginia) and became close with two friends who completed NOLS semesters.  I wasn't satisfied with the path I was taking in school, so I took my junior year off to explore new horizons.  I started working with Greenpeace in DC and then went to Wyoming to start my NOLS course

Virginia Beach at sunset
     Before the course, I had never even camped outdoors.    The next 95 days, we skiied and snowcamped in Wyoming, backpacked and hiked in remote canyons in Canyondlands National Park, Utah, whitewater rafted and kayaked in Colorado, rock-climbed and horsepacked in Wyoming.  After the course, I couldn't stand being back in a city (DC), so I packed up my car and moved to Boulder, CO for the summer and worked for Greenpeace there.  I left in the fall and pursued a college education at an alternative school in Arizona with experiential learning.  Prescott College's motto was "The Southwest is our Classroom."  My education took me to many remote places.  All new students go through a 'wilderness orientation' hiking and backpacking for a few weeks in the Arizona forests and canyons.  I spent block classes skiing in Yellowstone National Park, kayaking around Isla Espiritu Santo (in Baja), and backpacking in the alpine tundra of Colorado.  During other block classes, I conducted a Mexican Spotted Owl Habitat Survey and a Bald Eagle Watch for the National Forest Service.  Situated in the high desert of Arizona, there was ample opportunity for day hikes, mountain bike rides, and day climbing trips.  It was incredible.  In college, I fell in love with mountains.  I also fell in love with wolves and wilderness.  I had dreams of pursuing a career in ecosystem management or wildlife rehabilitation. 


Granite Mountain, Prescott, AZ

Granite Dells, Prescott, AZ
     I was offically a student at Prescott College from 1989-1993, but I also took a year off in the middle (1990-1991) to live in Telluride, Colorado.  It was an experience like nothing I've had before and probably will never have again.  Telluride is a small town located at almost 9000 feet elevation nestled in the majestic San Juan Mountains of southwest Colorado.  The town is surrounded on three sides by almost 14,000 foot peaks, covered by snow for most of the year.  I worked at a bakery as a breakfast and lunch cook, and I lived outdoors like many other young people there at the time.  I was single with no kids, so it worked out fine.  I had a VW bus with a mini-kitchen inside and the top popped up for sleeping (when it was warm enough). Otherwise, I slept on the bed in the back of the bus and when I awoke in the wee hours of the morning being cold, I'd head into the bakery and quickly warmed up with hot tea and baked goods.  I worked through lunch time then had the rest of the day to hike, bike, and enjoy the scenery.  I spent my second summer there living in a tipi with my boyfriend and our five, yes five, dogs (wolf hybrids) up on a gorgeous mesa in the midst of aspen groves.  It was during my time there that I started wondering how in the world people could afford to live in such beautiful places.  There was a culture of people living outdoors there (called 'woodsies').  Working in a tourist town like that, the locals like me didn't make enough money to afford to pay rent much less buy a house there.  The only people I knew who had houses had them because of family money.  They were kind enough to host pot-luck dinners and to let friends use their showers etc.  Otherwise, I showered at the town park at the public showers or at the gym where I was a member.  For that one school year, it was ok.  I loved being in such a beautiful place and was inspired daily by the beauty and magnificence of the mountains.  Words can't describe being above treeline in Colorado.  However, I got bored and wanted to finish my education.  I also didn't want to live outdoors for another winter, so I returned to Prescott College and graduated in 1993. I missed having a house, a hot shower, a real kitchen and bed.  From that point on, I made it my goal to work toward having the stability and comforts of home, but since that time I've also felt conflicted because it seems to make enough money to have a stable life and a nice home, it doesn't always work out with living in a beautiful place.

Telluride, CO

Main Street in Telluride, CO  I worked at the end of this street on the left at Gregor's Bakery and Cafe
     My first child, Sierra, was born just one week before I graduated in 1993.  Her dad still had another year of school to finish, so we stayed in Prescott until he graduated and moved to Durango, CO to start our lives as a family.  He had a job as a river guide, but it didn't last.  I hit rock bottom and was forced to take any job I could get to make some money.  I worked at a movie theater and then as a waitress.  There were no professional jobs in my field (environmental studies) and since I had developed a case of chronic back pain, being an outdoor educator was no longer in the cards for me.  Our marriage quickly dissolved, and I moved back to my mom's house in Virginia and spent the next four years living in her basement, working for Greenpeace again in DC and then getting my master's degree in education.  Still feeling claustrophobic living in the suburbs and working in the city, I moved again, this time to Reno, Nevada to chase a boy and be near the Sierra Nevada mounatins and Lake Tahoe.  Chasing a boy is never a good idea, as was evidenced by our quickly dissolving relationship, but I did meet my husband there  at a gym in Reno.  I worked as a teacher and made just enough money to support me and Sierra and live in an apartment.  We left Nevada in 2001 so Joe could go to law school in DC. 
     I spent my 20s adventuring and exploring, and when I got back to Virginia and got back in touch with some of my high school friends and went to the ten year reunion in 1996, I will admit I didn't like the story I had to tell, and I felt jealous of my friends who had spent their 20s in school and working and had nice houses to show for it.  They might have felt jealous that I had all those amazing experiences, but at the end of the day, they had nice houses and comfortable lives, and I was still struggling in that department.  So, my priorities shifted somewhat then.  I wanted nothing more than to get married again, have more kids, and to secure a stable life in a nice home. 

Reno, NV
     Joe provided all that for me.  He excelled in law school and got a big firm job when he graduated.  I was finally able to be a stay home mom with our son Thomas when he was born in 2004.  We had a townhouse in the DC suburbs but were bursting at the seams with five people living in 1800 square feet.  That when we decided to move to Texas so we could afford a big, single family home.  His law firm was a Texas based firm, so he was able to transfer and since then he's moved to a smaller, medium sized Texas based firm.  We were able to buy twice the house (3500 square feet) for less than what we sold the townhouse for.  I stayed home with Thomas for six years, and I finally feel stable and secure.  But, like the saying goes, money doesn't buy happiness.  I still feel like something is missing, and when I go on vacation I feel like a whole different person.  I think what is missing is the feeling I get from being in a beautiful place.  Dallas, Texas is not really known for being a beautiful place.  It's flat, and there is no ocean anywhere nearby.  There are lakes, but I don't like swimming with snakes and other grody critters that live in muddy brown water.  The closest thing I get to communing with nature is seeing the beautiful sunsets and appreciating the pretty (man made) pond down the street from our house and riding my bike on the (paved) path that follows the creek across our town.  In those moments, I feel some of the same emotions I've had in the past with the wind going through my hair and the hot sun on my skin.  The trees are pretty, and the skies are pretty.  The schools are good and our house is nice.  Joe's job is good.  However, it shows me that as far as my experience goes, it's awfully tough to have both-a good job/nice house, and the opportunity to live in a beautiful place. 

typical view of a neighborhood pond in Texas
     Because of all my aches and pains and (16) surgeries, I'm not longer a hiker, climber, skiier, horsepacker, whitewater anything-er, or mountain biker.  All those things were checked off the list of things I can do because of physical reasons as well as economic reasons.  Living in a beautiful town usually means living in a tourist town.  Jobs are mostly service related and they are seasonal.  I have a family now and have worked hard to provide basics like food, shelter, clothing, health insurance, cars, car insurance, and of course all the extras that kids want/need in their lives.  I can still swim, though, and so our visits to the ocean are the highlight of my year.  I swim in the pool at the gym year round, but there is an entirely different feeling that comes with being near the ocean.  After a 13 hour drive to get here (Destin, FL), I'm amazed at the transformation that takes place inside my head as soon as I step foot on the beach.  The colors are amazing (white sands, clear turqoise waters, and powder blue sky).  The breeze blowing off the beach takes me to another place.  It's salty and sandy, and being in the ocean and looking at the horizon where the sea meets the sky humbles me and reminds me how small I am and how big the earth is.  It reminds me of my place in space, and my spirit feels renewed.  But it only lasts seven days...hence this blog post. 

Perspective:  Use it or Lose it!
     People live here. There are houses and schools and stores. People do get to live in beautiful places.  I just don't understand how to make both things possible in my life.  It seems like I've had to choose one or the other-living in a beautiful place or having a nice home for my kids.  I chose the latter and continue to choose the latter, but that wild woman inside me sure misses feeling close to nature and the passion and exhilaration it stirs inside.  I am thankful that at least I am able to reconnect with this beautiful place even though it's just once a year.  Maybe I will be lucky enough to retire near the ocean and be that salty old lady who lives to be 100 and still goes to the beach.  It seems like the best way to live-having provided a nice life for your kids yet staying inspired, at peace, and in awe of the natural world.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

My kind of heroine

I am the proud mom of two daughters. One is out of the nest and in college, and the other is a tweenager.  I've been both a working mom and a stay home mom, so I have lived on both sides of the fence.  Raising girls in today's world is a challenging and fulfilling craft.  I learn something new all the time from my experiences with my daughters and want the best for them in their adult lives.  I want them to feel loved and nurtured, yet I also want them to know what challenge and struggle feel like so they can know the sense of pride and accomplishment that comes with facing adversity and rising up out of figurative ashes.  When it's their turn to be mothers, I want them to have happy memories of their childhoods and a strong sense of themselves so they can shine as individuals as well as give their utmost love and devotion to their families.  There is no "handbook" for raising daughters, but I love this list of rules for mothers with daughters:  It actually brought tears to my eyes as I read it.

http://diapersdaisies.blogspot.com/2012/01/rules-for-mothers-of-daughters.html

Today, I braided my ponytail since it's in style, and I couldn't help but think of Katniss, the heroine from the latest movie and book craze, the Hunger Games.  Her character is introduced as a hunter in the woods in a post apocolyptic world.  She is from a coal mining district, wears modest clothing, and sports braids in many scenes throughout the movie.  To me the braids make her seem stronger, perhaps it's the idea of weaving three sections of hair together to make a stronger mane.  Three is the magic number, the holy trinity, faith hope and charity, tripods stand strong, tricycles are sturdy.  I braided my hair and thought of the qualities of a strong woman.  In today's society where technology is ubiquitous, girls have so many heroines in the media.  When I was a little girl, we only had one tv in the house, and classic princess stories and Barbies were my main female role models.  I've seen heroines change over the years and have been happy to see the emergence of strong, confident, smart female roles. 


Katniss from the Hunger Games is the most contemporary heroine I admire.  She volunteers to take her little sister's place in a fight to the death even though she is scared for her own life.  She is smart, humble, and true to herself.  She doesn't get involved with the initial bloodbath.  She takes her mentor's advice and finds high ground and seeks water. She uses her intelligence to outwit her competitors and plays to her strength, which is shooting with a bow and arrow.  Ironically, it's her willingness to risk the ultimate sacrifice and stand up to the rules of the game that changes the ending of the story.  She shows solidarity with the final competitor and saves his life.   She is strong and beautiful and smart, trifecta!




Hermione Granger is my next favorite heroine.  She is also one smart cookie.  Her character in the Harry Potter series is frequently studying and always knows the answers, both in class and to help solve whatever problem they find themselves facing.  She shows that education pays off and that knowledge is power.  She also shows that young ladies can be intelligent and beautiful and that it is possible for a boy and a girl to have a quality friendship.  She is daring and confident and keeps her cool in the most precarious situations. 





Disney started branching away from the stereotypical princess-waiting-for-a-prince theme first with Pocahontas and then with Mulan.  Both heroines struggle with family honor and loyalty. Both heroines risk their lives to be true to themselves.  Both heroines trust their intuition even when it's a different path than what is expected of them.  The Disney version of Pocahontas wasn't historically correct, but it adopted the story of saving her man's life (John Smith in the movie, John Rolfe in history).  Her father was the chief and John was captured and was going to be killed, so she put herself in between John.  She was one of the original activists, and I'm proud to note that my great grandmother was a geneologist and traced our family tree, finding that we are descendents of her only son Thomas Rolfe.  She shows us that we should take a stand for what we know is right.  She also shows us a deep connection with nature.  Mulan doesn't want her father to go off to war, so she pretends she is a boy and becomes a soldier to bring honor to her family.  She shows how to be respectful and loyal to your family.  She shows how to be brave, take risks, and to face her fears.  She shows how sometimes, it's important to put the welfare of others above that of your own.






Cut to some of my least favorites, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.  Cinderella goes from an unhappy, overworked, girl of little means to a lavish lifestyle as a princess.  Why? Is it because she went to school and worked hard to earn all of her possessions?  Was it because she made goals and took steps to reach them? No, it was because she snuck out, went to a ball, and caught the eye of Prince Charming.  He fits the lost shoe on her foot and presto, he wisks her off her feet into happily ever after land.  Sleeping Beauty and Snow White are pretty much the same story, minus the ball and the glass slipper.  They are both put under spells by evil characters and lay in repose for eternity until kissed by Prince Charming.  The magic kiss brings her back to consciousness and they ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.  However, no kiss, no man, no happily ever after.  They are basically dead without a man.  What kind of lesson does that teach our daughters?


Speaking of dead without a man, Bella Swan from the Twilight series.  She is the most do-nothing heroine I have ever met.  She seriously does nothing other than fantasize and hallucinate about Edward and stare out the window in a deep depression when he leaves her.  Her whole life is wrapped up in a dead, cold vampire.  Very much alive Jacob is her best friend and is the opposite of Edward. He is in her life day to day. Edward leaves her broken hearted.  He's a werewolf, and naturally there is a rivalry between the boys for Bella's affections.  She is too lost in Edward to see the value of what is right in front of her, and she eschews Jacob in pursuit of becoming a vampire wife and mom.  She zones out at school and in life and in the end, she gives up her life for a male character.  Her life is worth nothing without a boy. That's not the lesson I want to teach my girls. 



Don't let life happen to you
Grab the buffalo by the horns
Ride the crest of the wave

Friday, August 5, 2011

NOLS Spring Semester in the Rockies 1989

     This was the first day of the rest of my life.  I had never gone camping, cross-country skiied, or backpacked before.  I had no idea what was in store for me during the next three weeks.  There I was, 21 years old, late January 1989 on skiis with a heavy backpack and making tracks into the woods outside of Jackson Hole, WY.  The National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS), based in Lander, WY,  gave me and 16 other students a ride to this meadow and dropped us off with three instructors to begin our Spring Semester in the Rockies.  It was a 95 day semester broken into five sections:  winter, desert, whitewater, climbing, and horse packing.  I received 16 credits from the University of Utah in biology and natural history.  Winter section lasted approximately 3 weeks. 
     Just three years earlier in 1986, I graduated high school with no idea what to do with my life.  My high school counseler saw that I had gotten all As in French (4 years) and suggested that I major in French with the goal of returning to the DC area to work as a translator for the State Department.  I attended Hollins College my freshman year and then did a one year exchange program at Washington & Lee University my sophomore year.  At W&L, two of my friends (Jack Moore and Chris Walburgh) had already completed NOLS Semesters, and they inspired me to register for a semester outdoors. Chris (RIP Chris Walburgh)  http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?cropsuccess&id=100000216874433#!/groups/19639487026  , also told me about Greenpeace one day while we were studying in the library, so that summer when I returned to DC I responded to an ad in the paper looking for Greenpeace canvassers.  I went door to door raising funds and awareness to aid Greenpeace's campaigns (oceans, forests, toxics, nukes) and decided to take my junior year off from school and pursue doing a NOLS semester in the spring.  During my sophomore year at W&L, I started rock climbing with Chris and his best friend, Rick, but I had never done any camping or anything else outdoorsy.  There was something about Chris that I wanted to be like too. He was a deep thinker, and I could tell his outdoor adventures had given him something that I didn't have yet.  I wanted to experience it too.  I worked for Greenpeace until January, then I flew to Lander, WY to start a new adventure (much to my parents' chagrin). 
     We skiied during the days through pristine forests and camped in quinzhees at night.  It was tough learning how to cross country ski while balancing a big backpack.  The instructors dragged sleds behind them full of supplies.  I learned how to stair-step sideways when going up a hill on cross country skiis and when we didn't have our packs we worked on tele-skiing, carving beautiful curves in the powdery snow.  The forests were lush with fir and spruce and other evergreens.  It was quiet and peaceful.  Just getting from here to there required focus on the moment.  The rythym of my breath was loud in my head and strenuous tasks took my full attention.  We learned snow science such as avalanche forescasting, types of snow,  and wilderness first aid for hypothermia etc.  We built snow kitchens to cook our camp food and built camarederie with our quinzhee mates. 


     To make a quinzhee, it takes lots of snow and lots of hard work.  First, we made a huge mound of snow. Then, we literally climbed on top and stomped down on the snow to pack it down so it was very dense.  Once enough snow was packed in a dome shape, we used shovels to carve out a tunnel, first straight down, then horizontally to the dome, then straight up into the dome.  Then, we carved out the inside of the dome and a floor upon which to sleep.  The temperatures outside were 20-30 degrees below zero at night, and I think about four people could fit in one quinzhee.  Our body heat and subzero sleeping gear got us through the nights, but it sure was cold when we had to get up and night, tunnel outside and go to the bathroom! 
     Above is a picture of a snow kitchen.  We carefully carved out the snow to create a place to cook and sit.  We always hung up our sleeping bags on our skiis at camp so they could dry.
     This is a picture of some of the group members piling up snow in a dome. Jon is on top of the dome packing it down. The picture is a little blurry, but he is there.  As you can imagine, this process took some time and it came at the end of a long day of skiing.  Even though we were exhausted, we enjoyed working together to create shelter for our groups.
     It's easy to get a sense of the pristine beauty of the land from looking at this picture.  The snow was waist high in some places.  We trodded through it, creating corridors to travel from camp to camp.  Every day we came across beautiful vistas and breathtaking imagery in the snowy meadows, forests, and mountains.  My eyes were opened up to a brand new world.  Living outdoors for weeks during the winter was hard work, and I will admit I complained a bit.  Not only was I getting used to being away from civilization, but I had never faced such hardships just to exist.  I missed people at home, and I was tired a lot of the time.  I had always been athletic, playing soccer and doing gymnastics and cheerleading, but this kind of physical exertion was something I had never experienced.  I had also never been in such bone-chilling cold conditions.  A highlight of those three weeks was one night when we were sitting around talking and drinking hot chocolate, we got a gorgeous treat - the Northern Lights!   The sky was luminescent, a white/yellow hue, and it danced in streaks across the starry night sky.  We were in awe, looking upon the sky in amazement.  I had never even heard of the Northen Lights before, so it was an incredible learning experience for me. Talk about experiential learning! 

     Greetings from Canyonlands National Park, Utah.  After re-rationing in Lander, we spent four weeks backpacking and camping in remote canyons for our desert section.  There was a sharp contrast in the weather and landscapes.  It was hot and sunny, and there not a snowflake to be seen.  The landscape was dry and rocky. Shrubs, cacti, and brush grew from cracks in the rocks.  The sandstone canyons were carved by erosion over geologic time, leaving contours of the past to be explored.  I traded in my sub-zero gear for t-shirts and shorts, quickly becoming friends with the sturdy hiking boots and gaiters that protected my legs from the desert brush.

After dayhikes of around 10 miles through the desert, we stopped and made camp, frequently without tents because the weather was so mild at night.  We spent more than one night at this camp. It was my favorite one because of the beautiful wall curving around my sleeping bag. I felt sheltered and surrounded in beauty.   I wondered how long the rocks had been there and what stories they could tell me about time if they could speak.  It was surreal to sleep in a place that used to be under water, as was evidenced by the artistic curves in the rocks.  It reminded me of the passage from the Tao Te Ching:  "Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong."
I stopped to look back at my friends hiking behind me one day and saw the thunderclouds above them illuminated by the afternoon sun.  We were hiking across high plains with woodlands instead of down low in the sandstone canyons.  I remember my feet and back started hurting all the time during desert section.  The backpack was heavy, and the road ahead and behind stretched as far as the eyes could see.  As I rested and waited for my friends, I contemplated the smell of the sage drifting in the air and electricity brewing above.  I rested my weary muscles and found determination to continue step by step into the future.  What other choice did I have after all?  In these moments, I learned about pushing myself slowly through challenging tasks until completion. 

I felt on top of the world in this picture.  We came upon this vista on a pass through the canyons.  The round, pillar type sandstone formations in the foreground are called hoodoos.  The La Sals are the mountain range visible on the horizon.  My attitude shifted during this section. A former climbing instructor and friend advised me to 'always volunteer and never complain' while on my NOLS course.  During winter section, it was harder to do for whatever reason.  In the warm sun of the southwest, my mind opened up like a blooming cactus. I started going with the flow and doing whatever it took for the group logistics to run smoothly.  We learned about the flora and the fauna of the desert and explored the ancient Anasazi Indian history of the land.  We were challenged with a day spent in solitude and a four day small group (student-led) expedition.  I was voted by the group as one of four students who would take a small group from point A to point B where we would meet our instructors four days later.  It was a performance assessment, a perfect chance to show all that we had learned about orienteering, map-reading, travel, and survival in a desert landscape. 
We all made it alive, and met up as a group again to wait for the bus to pick us up and take us back to headquarters.  After four weeks, we emerged as a stronger group and stronger individuals.  Our clothes bore the sweat and dust from our travels and labor.  Those four weeks in the desert taught me to open up my senses to my surroundings and to value and respect the fragile environment of which we are all a part.
     Rock climbing was the third section. We spent approximately three weeks at Split Rock, WY learning the ropes so to speak.  I had some background experience in this sport, so I was able to take those basic foundations and apply them in my daily practice.  We camped in tents on the granite slabs, did morning yoga, and then after breakfast, we would head up to some top-roping areas for instruction and practice.  We had a varitey of practice with cracks, faces, single, and multi-pitch climbs.
This particular problem was difficult for me.  The route traverse slightly to the left and then continues up to the left side up the crack.  The problem is the traverse always resulted in the 'barn door' effect and I would fall off the curve in the rock before I could make it up the crack. I tried and tried again but was never successful.

Cenotaph's corner:  really fun corner route. I did this one repeatedly!

Rappelling class:  The hardest part about rappelling is all in the mind.  It takes confidence to sit back for the first time and give your body weight to the system.  It's counterintuitive step away from stable footing on the top of a rocky ledge! Once you trust that the system will work, it becomes second nature.  Just lean back like sitting in a chair and slowly walk down the rock using your feet.  The brake hand stays behind and below, and small amount of rope is let out at a time until finally reaching the bottom.  Learning to climb rocks and to rappell down them requires trust.  Trust is another very important life skill.
This is the site of our multi-pitch climbs. We spent many days climbing different routes in scorching sunlight as well as in rain storms.  These routes would take all day to complete as there were three to four pitches to get to the top and then rappelling and hiking a long way down.  I felt invigorated by the heights and exposure.  We had beautiful views of the sage brush plains below, a winding river, and mountain ranges off to the distance in several directions.  The skies were painted with color and with the dark rumbling of frequent afternoon rainshowers.

Here we are on the summit of one of my favorite multi-pitch climbing days.  We worked together building anchors and belaying each other. We encouraged each other when we hit difficult positions on the routes.  We believed in each other and ourselves.  These types of activities taught me to focus on the moment at hand and to learn to recognize fear and turn it into a positive power.  I learned to take difficult tasks and break them down into small steps, one move at a time.  I learned to listen to the voice inside that said, 'I can' instead of 'I can't.'  We smiled with this enthusiasm and confidence as we posed for this picture and then sat down to enjoy a well deserved lunch together on the summit.


Here we are at the bottom after a long hike down.  In one day, we had ascended to the heighest heights of our imaginations and then come back down to terra firma to rest and prepare for the next leg of the journey.  I felt so free and so happy, like I could do anything.  After three weeks together on this section, our friendships grew deeper bonds, and we all knew we were sharing special experiences that we would hold forever in our minds and hearts. 
The fourth section was two weeks long. We traveled to the Dolores River, CO to learn whitewater kayaking and rafting.  At the beginning of the course, learned how to roll our kayaks in a pool in Grand Junction, CO.  I hurt my neck doing the sideways hip-snapping motion while trying to pull myself up sideways from under water.  Sharp, shooting pain originated at the base of my neck and went down both arms when I tried to move them. I took motrin and sat out from paddling for a while until I felt I could give it a shot.  We were in class 2 and 3 waters, and once I joined the group again, I was able to learn how to maneuver the boat without ever flipping over. 

We took classes on river science and how to manueuver the kayaks into and out of eddies. We learned how to avoid snags and how to ride tongues of whitewater rapids.  We learned how one wrong move can get a kayak sucked under water into a hydraulic that will turn a boater over and over like laundry in a dryer.  We learned that if ever thrown from a raft to always point feet down river.  This way, a person can see what is coming and use the feet and legs to try to bounce off rocks instead of crashing into them headfirst!  We took turns being captains and paddlers on the rafts, both giving and following directions and working as a group. 

This is a picture of one of my favorite campsites along the Dolores River.  I love the U shaped river valley and the layers in the canyon walls.  I love the memory of our group camped along the river's edge, gathered in a circle sharing conversation.  I love the uninterrupted stillness of the scene and the reminder that water brings life to desert areas.  I treasure the remote nature of such an experience, knowing I will never return to that spot again in my life, but thankful for the opportunity to travel at the river's pace through the land and witness all it had to offer once.

My friends and I soaked up some sun on this rockly slab beside the river as one of our instructors played in the waves.  I can still remember the sound of the white water rushing by and the laughter in the air!
I took this picture of small group in a raft approaching this rapid just upstream of us.  It was a hot sunny day in southwestern Colorado.  The canyons were filled with small trees and brush.  The rapids offered challenge and fun around every corner.  River camping was not as difficult as some of the previous sections, although we did learn a lot about life in and out of boats every day!  We made an assembly line to pass supplies from the boats to and from campsites and worked together as groups to set up and take down camps.  I remember everybody finding lots of humor in the fact we had to transport our solid waste in ammo boxes.  We learned and lived the 'leave only your footprints' philosophy of low-impact camping.  We also learned about water conservation issues facing the southwest region. 
The fifth and final section was horse-packing.  What a way to end a semester.  This time, we had a horse between every two of us to carry our supplies!  We each rode a horse and took turns trailing the supply horses.  Here is apicture of our group stopping at a watering hole.  We rode along the Oregon Trail in Wyoming.  There were fields of sagebrush interspersed with Aspen groves.

This is my horse, Lil Doc.  She was the smallest horse in the group!  I am only 5'2" so I needed a petite horse.  She was sweet and mellow.  I picked a wildflower and put it behind her left ear for this picture. 
After watering the horses one afternoon, I took this picture of some of my friends and their horses as they walked back to our campsite in the aspen grove  that is barely visible at the bottom of the hill in the distance.  The afternoon sun was getting low in the sky, and we were done riding for the day.  It was a peaceful moment.

This is my friend, Pete, on his horse and holding the pack horse we were sharing.  We learned how to use the ropes and tie knots to secure the loads on the supply horses.  It was windy, and we wore gloves while riding to protect our hands.

Here we are at one of the campsites surrounded by aspens with their pretty white bark and golden-green leaves.  We were enjoying some laughs as we posed for this picture.  Pete is holding up my book, Illusions. It was one of my favorites to read on this trip.  It is still one of my favorite books!
This is one of the last pictures I took in the field. It encompasses the beauty of the rugged Wyoming trails we traveled.  The final section gave us a chance to relax a little and reflect on the journey we shared together.  When we finally returned to Lander, we had a celebration and each went our separate ways.  We didn't know what the future would hold for us, but we completed our goal and 95 days later, we emerged from the field as different people.  I experienced personal growth by entering an unkown world.  I broadened horizons within myself, learning about the diverse world around me and about my place in it.  I pushed myself through uncomfortable and unfamiliar activities and evolved into a stronger, more confident, and adventurous person.  Seeking ways to push myself further and stretch my limits presented opportunities for growth that I never imagined.  I opened up to unimagined and unexpected possibilities and left with the feeling that I could accomplish any task I could dream of.  I felt energized with a fresh view of the world and myself. 

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Sunday, January 16, 2011

The Summit

You cannot stay on the summit forever.  You have to come down again.  So why bother in the first place?  Just this:  what's above knows what's below.  But what's below doesn't know what's above.  One climbs, one sees, one descends, one sees no longer, but has seen.  There is an art in conducting oneself in the lower region by the memory of what one saw higher up.  When one can no longer see, one can at least know.

Friday, May 28, 2010

A picture’s worth a thousand words | Greenpeace USA


A picture’s worth a thousand words Greenpeace USA

We didn't win Greenpeace's "Save the Whales" photo contest but we were featured on the "Some of Our Favorites" slideshow! Hundreds of photos were submitted from all around the country asking President Obama to keep his promise and vote to keep the ban on commercial whaling when he meets with the International Whaling Commission on June 3.