(Bounder Blog. continued)

4:25pm Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Bounder class
Last night I dug into the still unpacked boxes of winter gear in my closet. I haven’t used this stuff in over a year. One layer of polypro tops, long johns, wool shirt, sweater, jacket, and my 10 year old sorrels. Good. (I brought hiking boots too, just in case all the students were wearing hiking boots and not big old Sorels.)

I showed up in front of Paradise Hall at 8:30am with my pack full of extra clothes, and no axe. There was a group of 13 students standing around collecting fire pans and cooking pots. I was relieved when I saw their patchwork winter layering job. They were definitely not all wearing brand new Mountain Hardware gear. Some wore sneakers and jeans, some had thick winter boots, gortex pants, and down jackets. I fit right in, phew! This group of first year students looked tired (from late night studying, of course), but excited because we were about to spend three hours in the woods doing the final “in-class” training for winter camping. This class was to entail: practicing fire building skills, open fire cooking, winter first aid, splitting and cutting wood, and layering techniques (you know, all the usual stuff you learn at college).
The plan was to head down one of the trails below the farm to a lean-to. I walked through the muddy farm road by the horses and cows and thought what a cool job I have.    

Now, twenty-four hours after taking the Expedition pledge, “to endure all 4 days”, I find myself in the middle of the woods in a makeshift tarp village, having hiked all day, gathered and cut dead trees for firewood, and set up camp. I had a lot to learn today…

1. Walk in the footsteps of the person in front of you. There is something philosophical there about gaining empathy for others by walking in their path. And, in more practical terms, you don’t fall into the deep snow as often. Having good sea legs helps.
   
2. Do whatever it takes to keep your drinking water from freezing—tuck it in your jacket or shirt while you hike.
   
3. Keep the food you plan on eating that day close to your body. Frozen hummus has about as much appeal as chewing on ice cubes.

I am tired tonight, but in great spirits. I had warming conversations with Heidi Wilson, Sustainable Agriculture Faculty, and Adrian, my camping partners, on the trail and around the fire that helped me learn more about who they are, where they were from, and how they ended up at Sterling. I talked to students about the day’s accomplishments and challenges. I saw them working together. I saw them helping each other get up when someone fell down, retying gear onto each others’ packs, and taking turns breaking trail and leading the entire group through all that snow. It seems the first night’s fire poses challenges for some—students reported 10 melted water bottles, burned boots, and singed linings.  Future expedition goers be warned.

I feel proud of myself for being out here and not home in my warm bed. (ooo…did I say warm bed?) Okay, that’s enough gushing. I’m going to crawl into our tarp shelter and try and fall asleep–I wonder if the snow predictions will come true.

The whole group was relieved when we detoured onto a snowmobile trail to make up time that had been spent trudging uphill through deep snow from Camp 1. I could see the trip wearing on people’s stamina and feel my own energy dip. It’s a constant battle to make sure you eat enough, drink enough, and stay warm enough (but not too warm, because then you’ll be wet).

Camp 2 is on a slope. There are a lot of dead trees around, but the dry ones were mostly still standing. So, Adrian taught me how to safely cut down my first dead tree, something the students learned months ago.

My words of wisdom gleamed from the day’s events:

1. Take the time to dry your boot liners, even if they don’t feel wet, even if the thought of your sleeping bag is pulling your from the fire. No matter what kind of boots you have, your socks and liners are wet!
2. Cut way more wood than you think you’ll ever use because, most likely, you will.

Tonight sitting near the fire has been challenging for me. The temperature is up around 25 degrees, so that feels good, but the snow and wind are blowing across the fire, burning my eyes and soaking all my gear. I imagine I must look pretty rough—my eyes are tearing and my nose will not stop running, but at the same time I’m enjoying the company around the fire and the firelight lighting up the other tarps. Students stop by, following the paths through the snow, to check out our tarp setup and check-in. I’m learning first hand how hard faculty work on expedition. In addition to building and maintaining their own campsites they make sure all 37 students are eating enough, building fires, and constructing safe shelters. Signing off.

Monday Evening, December 17, 2007
Expedition, Day 3
Camp 3 is beautiful. We’re in the Wild Branch Wildlife Management Area, a healthy, northern hardwood forest. We get our water from a nearby, nearly frozen stream. The snow is deep so virtually everyone has dug out couches near their fire and built snug shelters. We’ll need it because the wind changed 180 degrees since we began setting up camp. Almost everyone has their tarps facing the wrong direction.

Thankfully, almost everyone’s spirits are high, either that or their in beds trying to make tomorrow come sooner. The enthusiasm of it being our last night in the woods is contagious; people are singing around fires and being down right social.

I have a rare moment alone at the fire because Adrian and Heidi, in hopes of speeding things up for the home stretch hike, went out on snowshoes to pack down the trail we will be taking in the morning. I realize how focused we have all been on the task at hand. My life outside of winter camping only exists in conversations with other people, not in my thoughts. Now that the end is in sight, I’ve only now started thinking about all the things I have to do when I get home. We’re less than 10 miles from campus and there could be a house 100 yards away where people are watching television in t-shirts under an electric blanket, sitting by a roaring wood-stove with a convenient glass window allowing them to view the mesmerizing flames smoke-free, talking on the phone with someone in, say Mexico. But for all we know, we are in the wilderness dealing with our survival, struggling with the cold, and enjoying our little happiness’s and successes.

Just one more night. I can’t wait to wake up and start hiking tomorrow. And yes, for the record, I am still wearing the same clothes.

The journey from Camp 3 to the road covered a 2 mile stretch of woods, but the snow was at least 3 feet deep and in some places much more. After lunch, because our pace was agonizingly slow, the faculty decided that people with snow shoes should be up front breaking trail for the rest of the group. The snow shoe-ers led us to the road in about half an hour. Getting to the road was a major sign of victory for all of us. It felt like we were almost there.

Then we turned back to the woods cutting a straight line back to Craftsbury Common. Going back into the woods and breaking trail again took a real force of will power. The pace slowed and people marched along. Our next goal was to reach route 14 (the first and only paved road we would cross). We came out onto a field and walked straight across with the wind nearly pushing us over. I looked back and saw the entire group winding their way across. Then there was one last steep down hill to the road. I approached nervously not knowing how to get down it with a pack on my back. After a moment I just went for it and slid, laughing, down the hill. Cars that passed on Rt. 14 honked their horns in support. Locals are familiar with this 30+ year tradition.

The final stage was a hike that we all had done before:  3/4 of a mile up hill on the Catamount trail. Again we were breaking trail through fresh snow. Again the pace was slow and I was just going through the motions. It was getting dark rapidly and people were pulling out their headlamps. Mine was inside several layers in my pack. There was no way I was going to take my pack off now and dig around for it. I could barely see the footsteps in front of me, but still I managed to step in them most of the way up.

When we arrived at the Common fireworks were going off. Really, there were fireworks. Students, faculty, staff, and community members were banging pots and pans, blowing whistles and horns, and cheering us home. We did a ceremonious walk across the green, again breaking trail, into the crowd. I felt sheer joy, and so darn tough. The next 2 hours of talking and eating in the dining hall was an abrupt reintroduction to the warmth of electricity and community.

I have graduated from High School and College. I’ve been successful. I’ve hiked mountains, learned new skills, landed new jobs, but I have never felt such a sense of accomplishment as I did last night, for my own work and the work of the 47 others who willed their way through Expedition with me.

Needless to say, I slept great last night.