The Year that See Grew Up

May 25, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, discipline, plants, School, shelter building, snow, Soul, water purification, bow drill, blacksmithing, animal processing

Nevertheless, sometimes a young person, through choice or fate, experiences a catalyst that forces them to mature in a short period of time. I think of water when I consider this idea. In a river, water flows over rocks, through the eons grinding them down into smooth, polished, perfect stone. Water also trickles down inside the tiny cracks of a cliff face, and when it freezes as the temperature drops, sometimes the cliff explodes of a sudden into huge chunks that go flying off into space without warning, leaving behind a new rock face to glitter in the harsh light of day for the first time. At the end of this year, I am the rock face--raw, exposed, vulnerable, young--but supported by the rest of the cliff that still stands buried under the surface.

The last snowfall of the season at Camp Trackers. Taken March 22nd by Cameron MacPhail.

"Survival" Week

May 13, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, plants, shelter building, water purification

On Monday, mere minutes after we've hiked in to our chosen shelter location, I find myself experiencing a rush of anxiety. I've been navigating increasing irritation for an hour. I recognize the upsurge, now, that feeling where I want to snap at someone. I have control. I express to the group that I'm feeling the pressure to choose a location and get our shelter construction under way; that my judgement as far as site selection goes is compromised. Someone tries to help me--he points out that, without rain in the immediate forecast, with the temperature as it is, finishing the shelter is not a matter of life or death.

Photo taken by See at week’s end. I’m about to eat a real breakfast for the first time in five days.

Patience

March 23, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in Soul, Viking, bow making, challenge

I've cheated, a little, let Grey go to work on this project. He did in two hours what would take me two weeks. But for the most part, the eight hundred hours of rasping and draw-knife work it takes to take an Osage Orange stave down to a bow have been mine. I exaggerate. Slightly.

I'm approaching the end, now--both of the bow, and of this class. At Skills Night on Thursday I spend most of two hours turning 15 pieces of Dacron into a bow string. I need to bend the bow, figure out where I have to reduce certain segments of it just a little bit. Scrape or sand those places. Negotiate with Grey about whether I need to do more rasping (Answer: No). Cut in an arrow rest, if I can, so I don't bleed all over the wood. But the bow looks done to my amateur eye; it looks like I could string it and fire it right now. The work that remains is subtle, particular, patient. Every part of the process of creation has taxed me, but this last bit looks like it will cost me the most. Patience isn't really my jam.

Photo taken by Cameron MacPhail at Eel Creek earlier this year.

Rite of Passage

March 08, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in bow drill, challenge, fire, Soul

But this Tuesday is different. "Follow me, Gentlemen." And the men pick themselves up from their post-lunch reverie and follow. This is not a serious ask--we are moving some pieces of wood a few hundred feet, dropping it off at the location where I will spend 36 hours--Tuesday night to Thursday morning. I have spent a half day sawing away at a fallen Big Leaf Maple tree, processing it to be used in my overnight sit-spot. The wood is, for the most part, already bundled and ready to be carried. Still. I do not hesitate to assert myself. They do not hesitate to follow.

Photo taken by Cameron MacPhail during a trip to Eel Creek earlier in the year.

An Inconvenient Hat

February 17, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, fiber arts, Soul

Mount Hood. Little slurpy snowflakes. Wind ripping into the back of my neck, into every crease and fold in my jacket, dancing in the Douglas fir trees, which, in turn, send down cascades of snowy fluff from overladen upper boughs. It's beautiful, it's amazing (YOU GUYS, I'M ON A SNOW-ENCRUSTED VOLCANO!), and everyone I'm with just wants to get back in the van and sip hot cocoa and play with their phones.

I'm surrounded by a half dozen or so young people and a couple of instructors. The youngsters are participants in this cross-country skiing day trip with Adventures Without Limits, a non-for-profit that provides wilderness recreation opportunities for under-served populations.

Photo taken by Claire.

Fear

February 11, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, animal processing, fire, Soul, arrows

Sometimes we bring a lot of our outside lives into the woods. Sometimes, we get lucky enough to work through those challenges there. And sometimes, we're even smart enough to leave that stuff out in the woods, buried under a tree, so that all the things we carry* can absorb back into the great, green, glowing sphere of life instead of pushing us down into grief and misery.

Photo taken a very long time ago, somewhere in the Beartooths, probably by Rebecca Williams.

Grief

February 02, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, fire, Soul, Viking

Everyone else has tripped off to a little patch of woods somewhere, bow drill kit in hand, to find a place they want to be in for a solo overnight under a tarp shelter. Grey, after our feedback last week, has decided that he needs to create the need for us to learn bow drill. This skill was introduced early on, but only one student has repeated the magic trick more than once and gone from coal to fire. I myself have trouble making smoke, let alone a coal. Hence, a solo day and a night where we tend a fire through that 24 hour period. And not eat, apparently.

Photo taken by Morgan Spalding on a personal snowboarding trip to Mt Hood.

Kami in the Rain

January 26, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, water purification, Soul

As the minutes tick down, we shed layers and huddle around a roaring fire. I slip on a home-made linen shift, the only torso covering I have that isn't my wool long underwear or a sweater. The men stand barefoot, or booted, otherwise clad only in brightly colored boxer shorts. I wonder if they brought these ridiculous shorts intentionally, expecting a cold plunge to be part of the experience somehow. Grey has been repeating "Polar Plunge?" in a joking way for at least two days. I'm not sure he actually expected us to take him up on it.

Tracking at Trackers

September 29, 2017 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, tracking

I've always wanted to develop the ability to walk around barefoot, regardless of surface. Through habit and necessity my barefoot periods are usually limited to brief post-shower stints and strictly kept indoors.

Photo taken by Reverend Blue Sky (Noel Tendick) at Eel Creek along the Oregon Coast.

A New Year

September 29, 2017 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, School

The five of us at the Trackers Hunter Gatherer Adult Immersion Program are starting school, too, but we look a little different than the students sitting in rows clutching neatly sharpened pencils.

Photo taken by Cameron MacPhail at Eel Creek, Oregon.