“What the hell am I doing here?” Collapsing onto a makeshift wooden table after a day spent hiking 20 miles and maintaining trail for 6 hours, this question flashed through my mind. Was it insanity that led me to abandon my friends, family, possessions and all those other comforts of home? Why did I seek to replace them with back-breaking labor, low-pay, and less than ideal living conditions?
Well, all of those questions are easy to answer. As I sit here gazing out at pristine Grizzly Lake with only one other person around for who knows how many miles, it’s not too difficult to reflect on the journey I’ve been on for the last four months.
I arrived at our first worksite on a hot late May afternoon. As an alternate, I had the challenge of joining a crew that already had spent a month bonding and learning the ropes. When I stepped out of that truck and hoisted my pack to my shoulder, I sure didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into. The first week passed in a blur. It was a flurry of introductions both to my fellow crew members and the way of life.
I slowly started to adapt. I was making friends and learning how to do work I hadn’t even known existed. I also faced adversity I was previously unexposed to. I’d never been in a situation where I had nowhere to run. If I was annoyed with someone or had a disagreement, the longest I could expect to avoid them was overnight. Living in such close proximity could be both a joy and an incredible burden.
Throughout the season things gradually shifted. We lost crew members due to various reasons. I grew closer to some and further from others. However, we were all held together by some incredible glue. In two short weeks when this is all said and done, I’m sure I’ll never speak another word to some of my crew mates. Others, I hope to maintain friendships with for at least the foreseeable future. Regardless of how my relationship with each person will continue, everyone has taught me something. It’s as if I’ve spent the last four months in a funhouse full of mirrors. Each crew member showed me a reflection altered by their individual characteristics.
I can’t say whether this program has been a life changing experience or not. I have no idea how I’ll shift back into a more “civilized” lifestyle. I know that I look forward to that challenge confidently armed with the lessons I’ve learned. This program gave back to me no more than I put into it. If you choose to embark on this adventure it will be the same for you.
No words could have prepared me for this experience. All I can say is expect hard work and rich memories. Don’t cheat yourself and you’ll have no regrets.
Tim Kilbourn
Inyo (Humboldt, Big Basin, Shasta-Trinity) Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
What the Backcountry Meant to Me
What does the Backcountry Trails Program mean to me? I struggle for an answer to this question. I mean how can one formulate a proper explanation in regards to the rich experience of the Backcountry when presented with a broad inquiry of this sort? I fought for days attempting to articulate the significance of these last five months only to find that there was no simple way to explain it. Did the Backcountry Program transform me? I answer with a resounding yes – more than I ever could have imagined. In fact, the person I once was is hardly recognizable to me at this present moment. What within me was once a cynical indifference has now been replaced with an exuberant optimism and a relentless drive. What was once a life without aim has become one of clearly defined purpose. My experience has ignited an inextinguishable flame within my being; a powerful energy dwelling inside that has long laid dormant. Therefore, I can say with absolute certainty that I am indeed different because of this program, in that now my perception of this life and my position in it has drastically been altered for the better.
My story begins five months ago when I boarded the Amtrak train on a one-way ticket from Iowa to California. With a pack filled with what few possessions I did have, I set off into the unknown – far removed from all that I deemed secure and comfortable. I recall the anxiety I felt on that train ride, but more profound, I felt the rush of anticipation in knowing that a new chapter of my life was about to unfold. Looking out upon the passing countryside through my seat window, I became keenly aware that I was embarking on a journey that would define who I am. You see, prior to getting accepted to the Backcountry Trails Program I was a confused and troubled youth, struggling to find meaning and significance in the world. It seemed like every time I thought I had found some inkling of worldly truth – some definitive principle of reality – I would be surely let down upon discovering that my realization was false. I developed a nihilistic outlook in which eventually led to excessive drinking, dropping out of college, and a long list of other destructive behaviors. Of course, one can only sustain such a lifestyle for so long before hitting rock bottom. At perhaps my lowest point, I began to re-evaluate how I was living. After much contemplative introspection I decided that I was finished squandering my potential and that I must seek a challenge in which would test the very essence of my being in order to discover what I was truly made of. My search took me to the Backcountry Trails Program and I swiftly applied. Soon after I received notice that I had been accepted, and within several weeks, so began the experience I had hungered for.
Now the season is at its conclusion and I can only marvel at how amazingly life-changing it all has been. Throughout this season I have had moments of such violent clarity that my concept of what it means to be alive has drastically been redefined. This is how significant my summer has been. It is at those moments when I’m pushing my body through exhaustion and pain to reach the summit of a mountain peak that I achieve the sort of clarity that brings reality into focus. It is at these moments that I experience man’s potential to tap into an unlimited source of energy and strength in which allows him to overcome any obstacle. What I discovered was the essence of human greatness; mans noblest ability – the ability to take action; to harness the motive power of life; to establish a goal and then proceed on to achieve it. Each obstacle I have overcome this season has added to a source of constructive energy that is always available at my disposal, and of which I am eager to apply in the world outside of the backcountry. By possessing it, I feel no worldly force is capable of stopping me from being the best man I can possibly be.
Inner strength is not all I discovered within the Backcountry. Above I spoke of moments when I experienced profound clarity in reference purely to human potential, but in other moments I caught glimpses of something far grander. For fleeting instances I was able to witness and understand the connection between all things in nature. Staring up at the vastness of a star-filled sky or gazing upon the tranquility of a glimmering mountain brook, I would lose my sense of self and become aware of my inseparability with the natural world. It is at these instances that one becomes aware of his communion with the living reality. The feeling is utterly breathtaking. This understanding would have been nearly impossible for me amongst the hustle and bustle of city life, but within the Sierras all became clear. Life made sense.
I am forgetting perhaps the most critical component of what made my Backcountry season so special – my fellow crewmates. The season would have been far more difficult to endure if it was not for the diverse array of wonderful individuals I shared the Backcountry experience with. Never before have I felt such a strong sense of fellowship and love of community as I have felt here. The support and camaraderie of the crew offered me an image of how humans are supposed to co-exist. In these past five months I have forged unshakable friendships that shall endure a lifetime. Never will I forget the late night fireside chats, the frequent laughter and horseplay, or the words of encouragement offered to me. Never will I forget these faces.
The season is over, but I feel as if a new life has begun. A myriad of opportunities are within my grasp. I now have the tools for success at my disposal and I am eager to utilize them outside of the program. A bright pathway has opened before me and I am prepared to enter. I shall, hold fast to the knowledge I have obtained and to the wonderful memories I have collected. The Backcountry shall remain in my heart forever. Thank you to all those who made this possible.
Steven Jerome
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
My story begins five months ago when I boarded the Amtrak train on a one-way ticket from Iowa to California. With a pack filled with what few possessions I did have, I set off into the unknown – far removed from all that I deemed secure and comfortable. I recall the anxiety I felt on that train ride, but more profound, I felt the rush of anticipation in knowing that a new chapter of my life was about to unfold. Looking out upon the passing countryside through my seat window, I became keenly aware that I was embarking on a journey that would define who I am. You see, prior to getting accepted to the Backcountry Trails Program I was a confused and troubled youth, struggling to find meaning and significance in the world. It seemed like every time I thought I had found some inkling of worldly truth – some definitive principle of reality – I would be surely let down upon discovering that my realization was false. I developed a nihilistic outlook in which eventually led to excessive drinking, dropping out of college, and a long list of other destructive behaviors. Of course, one can only sustain such a lifestyle for so long before hitting rock bottom. At perhaps my lowest point, I began to re-evaluate how I was living. After much contemplative introspection I decided that I was finished squandering my potential and that I must seek a challenge in which would test the very essence of my being in order to discover what I was truly made of. My search took me to the Backcountry Trails Program and I swiftly applied. Soon after I received notice that I had been accepted, and within several weeks, so began the experience I had hungered for.
Now the season is at its conclusion and I can only marvel at how amazingly life-changing it all has been. Throughout this season I have had moments of such violent clarity that my concept of what it means to be alive has drastically been redefined. This is how significant my summer has been. It is at those moments when I’m pushing my body through exhaustion and pain to reach the summit of a mountain peak that I achieve the sort of clarity that brings reality into focus. It is at these moments that I experience man’s potential to tap into an unlimited source of energy and strength in which allows him to overcome any obstacle. What I discovered was the essence of human greatness; mans noblest ability – the ability to take action; to harness the motive power of life; to establish a goal and then proceed on to achieve it. Each obstacle I have overcome this season has added to a source of constructive energy that is always available at my disposal, and of which I am eager to apply in the world outside of the backcountry. By possessing it, I feel no worldly force is capable of stopping me from being the best man I can possibly be.
Inner strength is not all I discovered within the Backcountry. Above I spoke of moments when I experienced profound clarity in reference purely to human potential, but in other moments I caught glimpses of something far grander. For fleeting instances I was able to witness and understand the connection between all things in nature. Staring up at the vastness of a star-filled sky or gazing upon the tranquility of a glimmering mountain brook, I would lose my sense of self and become aware of my inseparability with the natural world. It is at these instances that one becomes aware of his communion with the living reality. The feeling is utterly breathtaking. This understanding would have been nearly impossible for me amongst the hustle and bustle of city life, but within the Sierras all became clear. Life made sense.
I am forgetting perhaps the most critical component of what made my Backcountry season so special – my fellow crewmates. The season would have been far more difficult to endure if it was not for the diverse array of wonderful individuals I shared the Backcountry experience with. Never before have I felt such a strong sense of fellowship and love of community as I have felt here. The support and camaraderie of the crew offered me an image of how humans are supposed to co-exist. In these past five months I have forged unshakable friendships that shall endure a lifetime. Never will I forget the late night fireside chats, the frequent laughter and horseplay, or the words of encouragement offered to me. Never will I forget these faces.
The season is over, but I feel as if a new life has begun. A myriad of opportunities are within my grasp. I now have the tools for success at my disposal and I am eager to utilize them outside of the program. A bright pathway has opened before me and I am prepared to enter. I shall, hold fast to the knowledge I have obtained and to the wonderful memories I have collected. The Backcountry shall remain in my heart forever. Thank you to all those who made this possible.
Steven Jerome
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
Backcountry Boyyyy!
Before joining the Backcountry Program I was attending college with several of my friends from high school, only an hour from home. I was majoring in Management and Finance at Providence College in Providence, Rhode Island. I chose to study business, with the notion that it was very practical and would lead me to a future of earning a lot of money. As my senior year progressed and I began interviewing for positions as account manager and loan salesman, my attitudes regarding my post-college plans began to change. Rather than working in a North-Eastern City surrounded by family and friends, I decided it would be beneficial to leave my comfort zone for once in my life.
The Backcountry appealed to me because I spent several summers working outdoors with my hands, and had loved them all. Also, I knew this would give me the opportunity to see an unfamiliar part of the country and to meet a new, diverse group of friends. My college life lacked diversity, and I thought that would be an integral part of my overall education and self growth. Lastly, I looked to the backcountry as a chance to get in shape and learn about living outdoors and backpacking. When I signed on with the Stanislaus crew I soon realized that my expectations of the program were different than the actualities of the Backcountry.
As time went on in the Backcountry, I began learning things about myself, and community that I could never learn through 4 years at a university. The initial realizations I discovered were that living in a tent without the comforts of home was much easier and more fun than I had expected. I began to appreciate the sky at night, the sounds of the woods, and waking up with the sun every morning. The next lesson to smack me in the face was how difficult it was to make a community grow together and stay healthy. Our crew was working around the clock doing chores and being there for each other. Just to get us through the summer. All the while I was making great friends and strengthening my personal work ethics. Looking back on the program, I realize how much I’ve changed and discovered in a few short months.
Most importantly, in my opinion, are the great friends I’ve made out here. I’ve learned to get along with and appreciate all shapes and sizes of people through living and working with them. I’ve learned what each individual must contribute to a community to make it strive. By taking personal accountability for things that need to get done, one person can really benefit the people around him. Before I came here, I thought I knew what hard work was, but the constant work done through this program has given me new insight into strengthening my own work ethic. I’ve set new standards for the challenges I take on in the future. I developed a self confidence by experiencing change and unfamiliarity.
Lastly, are the less significant lessons I’ve learned including simple camping and backpacking skills.
Through completing this program I’ve adopted an outlook which involves taking on challenges that I’m not use to. In the future I’ll be more likely to chase goals with more confidence. I’m more interested now in participating and working in jobs that appeal to me as exciting rather than jobs that will earn me money. I’m interested in more trail work, living in this environment, and more self building programs.
In conclusion this program will always be valued by me on a personal level. I will strive to take the lessons I’ve learned out here and spread them in the “real world”. I feel as though I’ve learned more about myself and life in general. I’d encourage anybody to take on the challenges of the Backcountry and to gain insight into life’s “bigger picture”.
Mike Butler
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
The Backcountry appealed to me because I spent several summers working outdoors with my hands, and had loved them all. Also, I knew this would give me the opportunity to see an unfamiliar part of the country and to meet a new, diverse group of friends. My college life lacked diversity, and I thought that would be an integral part of my overall education and self growth. Lastly, I looked to the backcountry as a chance to get in shape and learn about living outdoors and backpacking. When I signed on with the Stanislaus crew I soon realized that my expectations of the program were different than the actualities of the Backcountry.
As time went on in the Backcountry, I began learning things about myself, and community that I could never learn through 4 years at a university. The initial realizations I discovered were that living in a tent without the comforts of home was much easier and more fun than I had expected. I began to appreciate the sky at night, the sounds of the woods, and waking up with the sun every morning. The next lesson to smack me in the face was how difficult it was to make a community grow together and stay healthy. Our crew was working around the clock doing chores and being there for each other. Just to get us through the summer. All the while I was making great friends and strengthening my personal work ethics. Looking back on the program, I realize how much I’ve changed and discovered in a few short months.
Most importantly, in my opinion, are the great friends I’ve made out here. I’ve learned to get along with and appreciate all shapes and sizes of people through living and working with them. I’ve learned what each individual must contribute to a community to make it strive. By taking personal accountability for things that need to get done, one person can really benefit the people around him. Before I came here, I thought I knew what hard work was, but the constant work done through this program has given me new insight into strengthening my own work ethic. I’ve set new standards for the challenges I take on in the future. I developed a self confidence by experiencing change and unfamiliarity.
Lastly, are the less significant lessons I’ve learned including simple camping and backpacking skills.
Through completing this program I’ve adopted an outlook which involves taking on challenges that I’m not use to. In the future I’ll be more likely to chase goals with more confidence. I’m more interested now in participating and working in jobs that appeal to me as exciting rather than jobs that will earn me money. I’m interested in more trail work, living in this environment, and more self building programs.
In conclusion this program will always be valued by me on a personal level. I will strive to take the lessons I’ve learned out here and spread them in the “real world”. I feel as though I’ve learned more about myself and life in general. I’d encourage anybody to take on the challenges of the Backcountry and to gain insight into life’s “bigger picture”.
Mike Butler
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
From Ghana to Stanislaus
This time last year I’d just returned from Ghana where I spent two months studying Ghanaian drumming and its significance on their culture. It was by far the greatest experience I’ve ever been fortunate enough to have. Being in Africa was an experience over stimulating to the senses, and not a day goes by where I don’t reflect on that unforgettable summer. Like most good things in life it took a few months before I was truly impacted by what I witnessed.
However, the high of traveling to a foreign land began to dwindle and I slowly assimilated to the post-graduate life I swore I would leave behind. I resumed my position bartending at the Greenhouse, a hip, trendy, jazz bar in a college town. What was expected of me was to go ahead and search for a professional job and a career path. I wasn’t yet ready to go the route most of my family and friends did. I instead kept bartending, working from 9pm to 4 am in the morning, feeling incomplete. I was growing completely dissatisfied standing behind the bar listening to young, educated, over priveledged kids spouting off about society and our declining status on the world stage. So, I began to contemplate a way out of the watered down reality I was living. I started to research the Peace Corp, an organization I’ve always dreamed of being a part of. Yet, as I was filling out the online application I began to doubt my qualifications to accomplish such a feat. My lifestyle consisted of staying up too late, drinking all night, eating too much and talking about change as if my words would single handedly change the world. Thankfully, as if fate was at work (I don’t believe in fate) my name was in an AmeriCorps database and I received an e-mail detailing the Backcountry experience. I researched the CCC and Backcountry Program and instantly knew it was ordained that I was to take on this challenge. In reality, little did I know that nothing could have prepared me for what I was getting myself into. I arrived in Sacramento at dusk, not completely sure that I’d made the right decision to join. As I was making my way down the escalator I noticed a little man with glasses, wearing a CCC uniform, staring directly at me and none other than Peter Lewis himself extended his hand to me and said, “Hello, Mark, you ready?” I thought to myself, “No turning back now”, and here I am, now; five months later writing about the next greatest summer of my life…still riding the crest of the wave.
I’ve been trying to articulate this Backcountry season’s true meaning to me and a character who came to Lumsden Campground came to mind. George the Boot Fairy came to visit our crew and he said something that evening that stuck with me all season. He said, “You never truly appreciate your breath until that inevitable day when you’re gasping for your last.” He also reminded us that we are all finite beings living in an infinite universe. I agree with George and thank him for his wisdom. There are no certainties in life and I needed that reminder. So many times in my life, back home, I get consumed by “me, me, me” and all of the small things that entails, which creates unnecessary stress and anxiety. You truly must live each day like there is no tomorrow because there is no guarantee that there will be. I would like to close this paragraph with another statement made by George. “Tomorrow when you wake up you will be the oldest you’ve ever been and the youngest you’ll ever be again.” His brief discourse with us has helped to carry me this far, thanks.
I came into this program afraid. Afraid of what? I’m not really sure. Fear of failing in life, fear of letting people down, fear of a 9 to 5 trap. Finally receiving my BA frightened me more than it excited me. I felt like all eyes were on me, and I had to step out of the gray area and choose a path. I was having routine panic attacks about my future and nothing seemed to make sense, I was clouded by paranoia. I initially applied for the Backcountry Program to live in the wilderness and find inner peace, seek clarity. This program far exceeded those desires and it didn’t happen over night. I had to work hard for the new awareness I’ve achieved. I learned that nothing comes free, even self-discovery. I showed up to Placer Center super arrogant and displayed a polished inauthentic sense of confidence. With the help of my crew and my supervisor I began to untangle my over-coated web of insecurities. I’m in no way cured and I still have a lot of flaws but this season has provided me with a new, more reliable foundation, more conducive to positive growth.
Now that I can see the light and the season is waning I feel like screaming from a tall peak, which I did last weekend at Tower Peak. What I’m trying to say is I feel reborn in a sense, uplifted, and re-inspired. I’m excited about leaving this magical place because of my new found confidence. For the first time in a long time I feel capable. I’ve established a much stronger work ethic out here. Honestly, there’s just no way of getting around it, you must earn your keep to be a part of this Stanislaus crew. Our community living has many parallels with society at large. We are a microcosm of the greater community and must develop the same ingredients for success. It’s very easy to regurgitate all the words Peter Lewis put up on the board at Placer Center, but much more difficult to apply them. Before coming out here I was certain that the physical labor would be the most trying for me. I quickly learned that coexisting with fifteen other people was an ongoing challenge. There is no running away out here. It’s a must that you openly communicate and respect the views of the other.
I feel at times that discourse is a lost art form in our generation. We are raised to be narcissistic individuals incapable of doing any wrong. We are a generation who doesn’t like to talk to one another. We’d rather be distracted by our TV’s, ipods, and the almighty internet. It’s this disconnectiveness which made it difficult to function as a single community at first. Everyone must push aside egos and contribute in order for the community to subsist. Living out here in a tent for five months has given me a new appreciation of my African experience. I noticed that the Ghanaians worked so hard and earned very little, yet devoid of so many material things they all seemed so happy. As I sit here now it makes more sense to me. I’ve gone without half the things I had at home and I’m as happy as I’ve been in many years.
One of the greatest gifts the Backcountry has to offer is the scenery. The scenery alone helps you put things in perspective. I’ve been able to slowly re-prioritize what’s truly important to me in life. Such as my relationships with family and friends which I’ve taken for granted in years past. Living outdoors has reintroduced me to my fitness and health. I feel physically and mentally stronger than I have ever felt before. The biggest factor in all of this has been my sobriety. I can’t comfort myself with the abuse of alcohol out here. I’m not numb to the world anymore and it’s a great feeling to be awake again. The Backcountry offers way more than meets the eye and transformation is unavoidable.
Working hard and giving everyday my all has been a major part of my growth as well. I’ve been guilty of wanting success to fall in my lap before. Regardless of what career path I choose to take the Backcountry will always be in my blood, and as long as I stay disciplined and work hard I can achieve anything. So many times this summer I would stop and ask myself what it is I’m doing out here. I’m no trail worker, I don’t plan on doing this for a living. I’ve learned to set aside who I was before I came out here and embraced the task at hand. I believe, like my Ghana experience, the true payoff will be months, even years, after the season ends. The progress made will not be lost, I’ve worked too hard for it, and I plan to translate the lessons learned into my life beyond these mountains.
I have no definite answer to where I’ll go from here. I can only control what happens to me today. I no longer feel stricken with panic or fear. I feel more spiritually grounded and I’m leaving with a new sense of humility, that’s for sure. This program has helped me help myself and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be a strong candidate for the Peace Corps, if I so decide. I’m proud of myself for earning a degree but I’m even more proud of myself for earning self-respect and completing this Backcountry season. Needless to say, I’m pleased with the results and I like myself a little more now. Not to worry, I do understand there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and I was stripped of the latter this season…. Thanks for the attitude check.
Mark Martinez
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
However, the high of traveling to a foreign land began to dwindle and I slowly assimilated to the post-graduate life I swore I would leave behind. I resumed my position bartending at the Greenhouse, a hip, trendy, jazz bar in a college town. What was expected of me was to go ahead and search for a professional job and a career path. I wasn’t yet ready to go the route most of my family and friends did. I instead kept bartending, working from 9pm to 4 am in the morning, feeling incomplete. I was growing completely dissatisfied standing behind the bar listening to young, educated, over priveledged kids spouting off about society and our declining status on the world stage. So, I began to contemplate a way out of the watered down reality I was living. I started to research the Peace Corp, an organization I’ve always dreamed of being a part of. Yet, as I was filling out the online application I began to doubt my qualifications to accomplish such a feat. My lifestyle consisted of staying up too late, drinking all night, eating too much and talking about change as if my words would single handedly change the world. Thankfully, as if fate was at work (I don’t believe in fate) my name was in an AmeriCorps database and I received an e-mail detailing the Backcountry experience. I researched the CCC and Backcountry Program and instantly knew it was ordained that I was to take on this challenge. In reality, little did I know that nothing could have prepared me for what I was getting myself into. I arrived in Sacramento at dusk, not completely sure that I’d made the right decision to join. As I was making my way down the escalator I noticed a little man with glasses, wearing a CCC uniform, staring directly at me and none other than Peter Lewis himself extended his hand to me and said, “Hello, Mark, you ready?” I thought to myself, “No turning back now”, and here I am, now; five months later writing about the next greatest summer of my life…still riding the crest of the wave.
I’ve been trying to articulate this Backcountry season’s true meaning to me and a character who came to Lumsden Campground came to mind. George the Boot Fairy came to visit our crew and he said something that evening that stuck with me all season. He said, “You never truly appreciate your breath until that inevitable day when you’re gasping for your last.” He also reminded us that we are all finite beings living in an infinite universe. I agree with George and thank him for his wisdom. There are no certainties in life and I needed that reminder. So many times in my life, back home, I get consumed by “me, me, me” and all of the small things that entails, which creates unnecessary stress and anxiety. You truly must live each day like there is no tomorrow because there is no guarantee that there will be. I would like to close this paragraph with another statement made by George. “Tomorrow when you wake up you will be the oldest you’ve ever been and the youngest you’ll ever be again.” His brief discourse with us has helped to carry me this far, thanks.
I came into this program afraid. Afraid of what? I’m not really sure. Fear of failing in life, fear of letting people down, fear of a 9 to 5 trap. Finally receiving my BA frightened me more than it excited me. I felt like all eyes were on me, and I had to step out of the gray area and choose a path. I was having routine panic attacks about my future and nothing seemed to make sense, I was clouded by paranoia. I initially applied for the Backcountry Program to live in the wilderness and find inner peace, seek clarity. This program far exceeded those desires and it didn’t happen over night. I had to work hard for the new awareness I’ve achieved. I learned that nothing comes free, even self-discovery. I showed up to Placer Center super arrogant and displayed a polished inauthentic sense of confidence. With the help of my crew and my supervisor I began to untangle my over-coated web of insecurities. I’m in no way cured and I still have a lot of flaws but this season has provided me with a new, more reliable foundation, more conducive to positive growth.
Now that I can see the light and the season is waning I feel like screaming from a tall peak, which I did last weekend at Tower Peak. What I’m trying to say is I feel reborn in a sense, uplifted, and re-inspired. I’m excited about leaving this magical place because of my new found confidence. For the first time in a long time I feel capable. I’ve established a much stronger work ethic out here. Honestly, there’s just no way of getting around it, you must earn your keep to be a part of this Stanislaus crew. Our community living has many parallels with society at large. We are a microcosm of the greater community and must develop the same ingredients for success. It’s very easy to regurgitate all the words Peter Lewis put up on the board at Placer Center, but much more difficult to apply them. Before coming out here I was certain that the physical labor would be the most trying for me. I quickly learned that coexisting with fifteen other people was an ongoing challenge. There is no running away out here. It’s a must that you openly communicate and respect the views of the other.
I feel at times that discourse is a lost art form in our generation. We are raised to be narcissistic individuals incapable of doing any wrong. We are a generation who doesn’t like to talk to one another. We’d rather be distracted by our TV’s, ipods, and the almighty internet. It’s this disconnectiveness which made it difficult to function as a single community at first. Everyone must push aside egos and contribute in order for the community to subsist. Living out here in a tent for five months has given me a new appreciation of my African experience. I noticed that the Ghanaians worked so hard and earned very little, yet devoid of so many material things they all seemed so happy. As I sit here now it makes more sense to me. I’ve gone without half the things I had at home and I’m as happy as I’ve been in many years.
One of the greatest gifts the Backcountry has to offer is the scenery. The scenery alone helps you put things in perspective. I’ve been able to slowly re-prioritize what’s truly important to me in life. Such as my relationships with family and friends which I’ve taken for granted in years past. Living outdoors has reintroduced me to my fitness and health. I feel physically and mentally stronger than I have ever felt before. The biggest factor in all of this has been my sobriety. I can’t comfort myself with the abuse of alcohol out here. I’m not numb to the world anymore and it’s a great feeling to be awake again. The Backcountry offers way more than meets the eye and transformation is unavoidable.
Working hard and giving everyday my all has been a major part of my growth as well. I’ve been guilty of wanting success to fall in my lap before. Regardless of what career path I choose to take the Backcountry will always be in my blood, and as long as I stay disciplined and work hard I can achieve anything. So many times this summer I would stop and ask myself what it is I’m doing out here. I’m no trail worker, I don’t plan on doing this for a living. I’ve learned to set aside who I was before I came out here and embraced the task at hand. I believe, like my Ghana experience, the true payoff will be months, even years, after the season ends. The progress made will not be lost, I’ve worked too hard for it, and I plan to translate the lessons learned into my life beyond these mountains.
I have no definite answer to where I’ll go from here. I can only control what happens to me today. I no longer feel stricken with panic or fear. I feel more spiritually grounded and I’m leaving with a new sense of humility, that’s for sure. This program has helped me help myself and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be a strong candidate for the Peace Corps, if I so decide. I’m proud of myself for earning a degree but I’m even more proud of myself for earning self-respect and completing this Backcountry season. Needless to say, I’m pleased with the results and I like myself a little more now. Not to worry, I do understand there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and I was stripped of the latter this season…. Thanks for the attitude check.
Mark Martinez
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
How The Backcountry Trail Crew Changed my Life
When I was five, I was enrolled in a school for emotionally disturbed children. My mother took me to interview with the director of the school, a Freudian Psychoanalyst named Richard. He asked me if I understood why I was going to go to this school as opposed to the local Kindergarten. My reply was such: that I was like a broken boat, and that this school (Cheerful Helpers) was going to fix me. I talked with Richard for a little longer, and drew him a picture of myself as a broken boat. He told my mother that I was one of the brightest children he had ever met.
This painful dichotomy has followed me all of my life: the bright, beautiful, broken one. I’ve felt paralyzed, wrapped so tightly in the belief that not only was I broken, in need of fixing, but that my beauty as a person, what made me special, was dependent on this broken state. I spent so long wallowing in this powerful sink hole of a belief. I really thought I was incapable of living a productive life.
Shortly after being enrolled in that school for emotionally disturbed children, I was formally diagnosed with depression and put on anti-depressants. I remained on some form of medication until two months ago, during my time as a Corpsmember in the CCC Backcountry Trails Program. I had been with my crew about three months, and we had just moved to our last camp 14 miles in to the Emigrant Wilderness, when I decided to quit my medication. Miles from the electric beat of city life, I went through a few days of withdrawal, during which I carried a strange metallic taste in my mouth, and a frothy layer of fatigue that seemed to echo from somewhere far away, riding on top of the more deeply seated exhaustion I had hard won from confronting the daily trials of Backcountry life. Then fluidly, without seam or skip I found myself off of medication, still engrossed in the work and life of a Backcountry Corpsmember, still exhausted from work taken on with all attention and physical strength available, still delighting in the simple laughter laced interchanges between myself and my crew, and most importantly, still intact. I didn’t fall apart.
I’ve struggled in this program. Simply put, it’s hard. It demands the best of you. A core of strength and resolve sits in the belly of every person in my Backcountry community. We don’t take sick days here. We have become familiar with our own innate indestructibility. The confidence won from pushing past comfort zones, past perceived breaking points, and coming through if not stronger, if even just being still intact, is an immeasurable boon to a person’s potential for living. Now that I know I won’t fall apart, I am free to do anything.
As I write this, I am looking out over the mirrored surface of Emigrant Lake, my backcountry home. It is the last Sunday of the season, and the clouds today are slow almost still overhead. I am surrounded by my fellow crew members: my family, my support network, my dearly held friends. I feel more confidence now, sitting here under the ever changing, ever present sky, than I ever have in my life. I feel loved and appreciated for who I am by my crew. I feel the strength and goodness of my body. I feel the results of all the efforts I have put into my season as a Backcountry Trail Worker. I don’t feel broken.
Kathleen Callow
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
This painful dichotomy has followed me all of my life: the bright, beautiful, broken one. I’ve felt paralyzed, wrapped so tightly in the belief that not only was I broken, in need of fixing, but that my beauty as a person, what made me special, was dependent on this broken state. I spent so long wallowing in this powerful sink hole of a belief. I really thought I was incapable of living a productive life.
Shortly after being enrolled in that school for emotionally disturbed children, I was formally diagnosed with depression and put on anti-depressants. I remained on some form of medication until two months ago, during my time as a Corpsmember in the CCC Backcountry Trails Program. I had been with my crew about three months, and we had just moved to our last camp 14 miles in to the Emigrant Wilderness, when I decided to quit my medication. Miles from the electric beat of city life, I went through a few days of withdrawal, during which I carried a strange metallic taste in my mouth, and a frothy layer of fatigue that seemed to echo from somewhere far away, riding on top of the more deeply seated exhaustion I had hard won from confronting the daily trials of Backcountry life. Then fluidly, without seam or skip I found myself off of medication, still engrossed in the work and life of a Backcountry Corpsmember, still exhausted from work taken on with all attention and physical strength available, still delighting in the simple laughter laced interchanges between myself and my crew, and most importantly, still intact. I didn’t fall apart.
I’ve struggled in this program. Simply put, it’s hard. It demands the best of you. A core of strength and resolve sits in the belly of every person in my Backcountry community. We don’t take sick days here. We have become familiar with our own innate indestructibility. The confidence won from pushing past comfort zones, past perceived breaking points, and coming through if not stronger, if even just being still intact, is an immeasurable boon to a person’s potential for living. Now that I know I won’t fall apart, I am free to do anything.
As I write this, I am looking out over the mirrored surface of Emigrant Lake, my backcountry home. It is the last Sunday of the season, and the clouds today are slow almost still overhead. I am surrounded by my fellow crew members: my family, my support network, my dearly held friends. I feel more confidence now, sitting here under the ever changing, ever present sky, than I ever have in my life. I feel loved and appreciated for who I am by my crew. I feel the strength and goodness of my body. I feel the results of all the efforts I have put into my season as a Backcountry Trail Worker. I don’t feel broken.
Kathleen Callow
Stanislaus Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
My Backcountry Trail Crew Experience
My journey to the Backcountry began long before I ever stepped foot into the California Wilderness. It started with a search; a search for adventure, hard work, and a challenge. For the past year I had been working as an exercise specialist at a physical therapy clinic in Florida. While I enjoy interacting with patients and playing a key role in their rehabilitation, at the same time I knew I was not being challenged to my full potential. I decided I was ready for a change, and so began my search for a new job.
My quest for the perfect summer job began in the month of February. I started by plugging the phrase “outdoor summer jobs” into a search engine on the internet. Once I narrowed my interest down to a job involving conservation/trail work I started filling out applications to Conservation Corps across the country. Although I was most interested in the California Conservation Corps Backcountry Program, I wanted to keep my options open in case I wasn’t chosen.
Long story short I was chosen, and on April 16, 2007 I was on my way to California. I arrived, after 12 hours of flying, in Arcata to be greeted by Peter Martinez, my supervisor. I was nervous and excited and tired all at the same time. Would I get along with the people on my crew? Would I fit in? Could I make it five and a half months without daily contact with my family? These were just a few thoughts running through my head.
It’s five and a half months later now, and I’m sitting on the porch of my cabin at Debriefing. The past months have been without a doubt the greatest challenge and reward of my life. There were times when all I wanted was to give up and go home. There were times when I wanted to sleep in till 10:00am There were times when everyone around drove me half mad till I was ready to scream. But there were many more times when I laughed with my crew. Times when I looked at the work I had completed and felt proud at what I was able to accomplish. Times when I hiked eight miles easily and felt strong.
With time spent in the Backcountry comes new found skills and strengths. Like how to live in congruity with the environment, how to start a fire at 3:30 in the morning, and how to make cowboy coffee. Some of the skills I learned I may never use again, while other things I have learned will help to guide me to success in future endeavors.
Out of all I have learned this season the most important is to always persevere; whether it be hiking to work, brushing the trail, or just the daily grind of camp life. If you never give up and always strive for your best, then you will be sure to succeed not only in the Backcountry but also in life. It has been a great season, and I know the memories will last a life time.
Amanda Godwin
Inyo (Humboldt, Big Basin, Shasta-Trinity) Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
My quest for the perfect summer job began in the month of February. I started by plugging the phrase “outdoor summer jobs” into a search engine on the internet. Once I narrowed my interest down to a job involving conservation/trail work I started filling out applications to Conservation Corps across the country. Although I was most interested in the California Conservation Corps Backcountry Program, I wanted to keep my options open in case I wasn’t chosen.
Long story short I was chosen, and on April 16, 2007 I was on my way to California. I arrived, after 12 hours of flying, in Arcata to be greeted by Peter Martinez, my supervisor. I was nervous and excited and tired all at the same time. Would I get along with the people on my crew? Would I fit in? Could I make it five and a half months without daily contact with my family? These were just a few thoughts running through my head.
It’s five and a half months later now, and I’m sitting on the porch of my cabin at Debriefing. The past months have been without a doubt the greatest challenge and reward of my life. There were times when all I wanted was to give up and go home. There were times when I wanted to sleep in till 10:00am There were times when everyone around drove me half mad till I was ready to scream. But there were many more times when I laughed with my crew. Times when I looked at the work I had completed and felt proud at what I was able to accomplish. Times when I hiked eight miles easily and felt strong.
With time spent in the Backcountry comes new found skills and strengths. Like how to live in congruity with the environment, how to start a fire at 3:30 in the morning, and how to make cowboy coffee. Some of the skills I learned I may never use again, while other things I have learned will help to guide me to success in future endeavors.
Out of all I have learned this season the most important is to always persevere; whether it be hiking to work, brushing the trail, or just the daily grind of camp life. If you never give up and always strive for your best, then you will be sure to succeed not only in the Backcountry but also in life. It has been a great season, and I know the memories will last a life time.
Amanda Godwin
Inyo (Humboldt, Big Basin, Shasta-Trinity) Backcountry Trail Crew 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Volunteering
Many of the people who live in and around Danville, including myself , tend to forget just how good we have it. We live in a beautiful neighborhood that is safe and has great schools and people. But step outside Danville, and you will see just how different other places are. I know that I often take for granted all the opportunities I have because of the place and situation I live in. Many people are not as lucky as I am. They do not have half the things that I do, and are not able to enjoy a lot of luxuries that I tend to forget. Realizing this, I, along with the other members of the Youth Action Council, decided to do something to help those that are not as lucky as we are. We decided to take some children from Concord to a football game. Most of the residents in Danville have been to at least one football game, so it was a shock for me and the rest of council to hear that many of the elementary school children in Concord had never been to a football game. We wanted to do something different that enabled the children to have fun and experience something that they had never done before. So, we rounded up a group of children that attend daycare at an elementary school in Concord. The advisor of our council was able to get free tickets and transportation to a Cal Berkeley football game. On Saturday, October 7, 2006, all of us at the Youth Action Council met at the Concord Bart station, not really knowing what to expect. Personally, I wanted this thing to work. i wanted the kids to enjoy themselves and gain an experience that they never had before . I wanted to be able to connect with the children, and make them feel comfortable even though they would be with people that they had never met before in their lives. I wanted them to remember this day just in case they never got the opportunity to do something like this again.
The children were dropped off at the Bart station by their parents. As strange as it sounds, I could immediately tell that these children lived lives that were very different from my own; not all of their parents owned cars, and for many of them, English was not their first language. I took a deep breath when I saw them walk up to us, and crossed my fingers; I hoped that the day would go well. Each of the council members were paired up with one of the children. My partner was Esperanza, she was ten years old, and in the fourth grade. She seemed very withdrawn; when I tried to talk to her she always spoke very softly and said as little as possible. I tried to make conversation during the bus ride to the UC Berkeley Memorial Stadium. I just wanted her to open to me and feel comfortable around me, because we would be spending the entire day together. To my surprise, when we got of the bus at the entrance of the stadium, and were bombarded by floods of people, Esperanza grabbed my hand. She must have felt a little uneasy in a place that she had never been before, and did not want to get lost so far away from home. It was nice to see her warm up to me, and it made me feel more confident that our day would turn out better than I had initially expected.
As we entered the stadium Esperanza marveled at how huge the football stadium was.She pointed at all the seats and the hundreds of steps that led down to the field. While the Cal Bears battled the Oregon Ducks, Esperanza opened up to me; she told me about her school and how she lived with her mother and younger sister. I told her about myself and I could tell she was intrigued about the life I lived and what my family was like.
The football game ended, and Esperanza held my hand all the way back to the bus. On our way home, she asked if she could give me her phone number, and that maybe I could call her sometime to talk. She said "if you call and my mom answers the phone in Spanish, just tell her you're calling for me." I was so delighted, what she said made me feel that our day had made a difference to her. When we returned to the Concord Bus Station, I said goodbye to Esperanza and watched her walk away with her mother. I heard her mother ask if she had fun, and her reply made me feel a true sense of accomplishment. "Mom, it was so cool, I saw a real football game and I made a new friend".
As I reflect on my experience that day with Esperanza, I feel happy. My original goal was to expose children to something they had never experienced before, the outcome far surpassed my expectations. I never expected a child that I had never met to hold my hand and tell me about her life. All I had expected was for children to go see a football game, but what happened was so much more. I had the privilege of connecting with these children and learn about them. Doing this for the children not only helped them, but helped me too. This single volunteering experience is the reason why I choose to volunteer. Helping others can provide you with a feeling of completeness that no other activity can provide. The sensation you get from volunteering not only has an effect on others but can greatly affect you as well, and that is the reason why i continue to volunteer.
Kyvn Saiidnia
Danville, CA
The children were dropped off at the Bart station by their parents. As strange as it sounds, I could immediately tell that these children lived lives that were very different from my own; not all of their parents owned cars, and for many of them, English was not their first language. I took a deep breath when I saw them walk up to us, and crossed my fingers; I hoped that the day would go well. Each of the council members were paired up with one of the children. My partner was Esperanza, she was ten years old, and in the fourth grade. She seemed very withdrawn; when I tried to talk to her she always spoke very softly and said as little as possible. I tried to make conversation during the bus ride to the UC Berkeley Memorial Stadium. I just wanted her to open to me and feel comfortable around me, because we would be spending the entire day together. To my surprise, when we got of the bus at the entrance of the stadium, and were bombarded by floods of people, Esperanza grabbed my hand. She must have felt a little uneasy in a place that she had never been before, and did not want to get lost so far away from home. It was nice to see her warm up to me, and it made me feel more confident that our day would turn out better than I had initially expected.
As we entered the stadium Esperanza marveled at how huge the football stadium was.She pointed at all the seats and the hundreds of steps that led down to the field. While the Cal Bears battled the Oregon Ducks, Esperanza opened up to me; she told me about her school and how she lived with her mother and younger sister. I told her about myself and I could tell she was intrigued about the life I lived and what my family was like.
The football game ended, and Esperanza held my hand all the way back to the bus. On our way home, she asked if she could give me her phone number, and that maybe I could call her sometime to talk. She said "if you call and my mom answers the phone in Spanish, just tell her you're calling for me." I was so delighted, what she said made me feel that our day had made a difference to her. When we returned to the Concord Bus Station, I said goodbye to Esperanza and watched her walk away with her mother. I heard her mother ask if she had fun, and her reply made me feel a true sense of accomplishment. "Mom, it was so cool, I saw a real football game and I made a new friend".
As I reflect on my experience that day with Esperanza, I feel happy. My original goal was to expose children to something they had never experienced before, the outcome far surpassed my expectations. I never expected a child that I had never met to hold my hand and tell me about her life. All I had expected was for children to go see a football game, but what happened was so much more. I had the privilege of connecting with these children and learn about them. Doing this for the children not only helped them, but helped me too. This single volunteering experience is the reason why I choose to volunteer. Helping others can provide you with a feeling of completeness that no other activity can provide. The sensation you get from volunteering not only has an effect on others but can greatly affect you as well, and that is the reason why i continue to volunteer.
Kyvn Saiidnia
Danville, CA
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