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.

Walk On

February 28, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in fire, shelter building, Viking, snow

We've spent the day burrowing into a snowbank, four little rabbit warrens against the bulk of Mount Hood. We piled up the snow all day, tamping it down with our snowshoes, with ourselves--flinging our whole bodies on top of the mounds to compress and sinter the snow. We dug into our mounds, excavating the snow inside and piling it on top, then built shelves along the sides and covered those in fir boughs. We have little shelves for our candles, air holes, a wall to block the entrance from wind, the works. We have only one casualty--a broken shovel. I hang up my snow-encrusted wool poncho to block the door entrance. Testing out our little hidey hole in the afternoon, still warm from the exertion of construction, it seems stable enough, and almost cozy. My partner crawls inside and disappears for twenty minutes, recovering from the expenditure of building the thing.

Photo taken by Reverend Blue Sky.

More Structure!

November 16, 2017 by Laura Reichardt in fire, shelter building

Fantasy survivalist visions: thoroughly squelched. We spent Tuesday and Wednesday night in a shelter we built ourselves, and the most that can be said for the experience is that nobody died of hypothermia.

Photo taken by Grey.