When you meet a bear, Farewell Montana, and Peace is Scary!

Our last picture together in the Boise Nat'l Forest

I am now back in the Midwestern flatlands. A little less picturesque than the mountainous, big-sky lands of the west, but it is warm, cozy, and bear-free in my childhood home. My future plans are still up in the air, so for now enjoy these final Montanan thoughts:

When you meet a Bear...

Yes, it finally happened. I met a bear. Of course it happened while I was alone late one evening. I was not in the forest either; I was in town wearing my favorite red heels. When I am in the middle of the woods, I have Bear Spray attached to my hip at all times. When I am in town? Nope!

So there I was, walking home one evening, minding my own business, when I notice a toppled garbage can and trash scattered all over the sidewalk ahead. As a Midwestern girl, my first reaction is - raccoon. I don't see or hear anything moving so I continue walking. I soon realize that what I initially thought was a dark shadow had started growling. As my eyes adjusted, the shadow slowly took shape of big black bear. Growling noises turned into hissing, spitting sounds as his eyes reflected the streetlights, watching me freeze to the sidewalk.

After a long moment, I forced myself to remember my ‘bear-training.’ I started slowly backing away while calming saying "whoa bear". I could see his eyes still glowing in the darkness, staring at me. I ducked behind a Toyota Tacoma and regained my wits. "I want to go home, but there is a bear between me and home." I peered over the truck and the bear had not moved - his eyes still on me. Finally my city-girl instinct kicked in, I reached into my purse, grabbed my cell phone, and called 911.

60 terrifying seconds and 3 squad cars later, the bear ran away and I clip-clopped my red heels home as fast as I could. (Photo: My Halloween costume - "Only you can prevent wildfires!")

Our Final Hitch

Our final hitch was just as stressful as previous hitches (3+ miles of tread still to finish brushing and treading, 4 bridges, and a culvert), but there was a warm comfort in our routine that made every meal an event, every 100 yards of tread a masterpiece, and every laugh a memory.

A fellow forest friend visited our camp site during this hitch - the graceful deer... beautiful, obnoxious creatures. They tiptoed around our tents at night, each stick snap was terrifying... since we were not entirely sure they were deer at first - visions of bears dancing in our heads. The words: "Are you a bear?" escaped my lips on several occasions, often resulting in the deer galloping off into the woods. Some pitch-black mornings, my florescent headlamp would illuminate dozens of green eyes, staring at me as I put on my boots. One morning I yelled at the glowing green eyes, trying to counteract my fear with fabricated bravery, and a handful of the eyes dropped to the ground - ducking behind a log, I imagine. This scared me even more, and I tripped over my untied bootlaces to the safety of our wall tent (such a scaredy cat). The late-night deer parties started to become so irritating that I built a fence around my tent made of sticks. Yup, sticks. It's a good thing there weren't any big bad wolves around.

There were several times in the woods I felt as though I was losing sanity. Who piles up a bunch of sticks to combat deer? Who eats nothing but almonds, goldfish, and tuna packets for lunch for an entire summer? These are things I did, and would do again. Another point of insanity: our entire crew was convinced that the best meal was Velveeta Mac&Cheese with bean-less chili. Our final meal in the wilderness was ramen. Straight-up, chicken flavored ramen. It was insanely glorious.

We packed up camp and said goodbye to our home. We had spent almost 30 days at this campsite - our once bridge-less creek now had a Lincoln-log style bridge hovering high above the rushing water; the bearhangs made with blood, sweat, and tears were taken down; our giant wall tent rolled into its never-quite-big-enough canvas bag.

We roughed up the earth that had been flattened by our tents until it looked like we had never been there.

One day, no one will know we were there. The brush will grow back; drains will clog; water bars will decompose; bridges and culverts will collapse. All that will last, all that ever lasts, is the growth that occurred within each of us, making us better listeners, teachers, friends, lovers, helpers...

My Love Affair with Montana

I said goodbye to good friends, wonderful roommates, and truly amazing kindred spirits. It was time to say goodbye to Montana:

“My days here are numbered, so I have been enjoying a solo love affair with my Montana home. I’ve never felt this way about a town before. After my goodbyes, I went for a run in the wintry wonderland. It finally snowed here, and I have completely romanticized the otherwise cold, wet, and dreary weather.

I am wearing new snow boots and am relishing each crunchy step. I am enjoying some peppermint tea in one of my favorite coffee shops, sitting in a big leather chair in the front window. It’s the best. I get to watch people rush about the town and they get to watch me write.

Like a true gentleman, this town is reciprocating my love affair with hot tea, heart-warming music, and kind interactions from strangers. The sweet man who greeted me on the sidewalk. The charmingly odd man who told me I have beautiful handwriting as I scribbled in my journal.

The first pair of boots I tried on fit perfectly. The local toy store had just the parting gift I wanted for a friend. I am about to go to the local hardware store where they will have exactly what I need to finish cleaning my apartment, and later, the local market will have something perfect for me to eat.”

After a couple days, I said goodbye to that lovely town… Goodbye mountains…

I left with the hope of returning again someday soon…

Scare yourself to find peace

I wanted to have this experience. I wanted to move far away from home. I wanted to live in a tent for a while. I wanted to do manual labor and feel my muscles ache. I wanted to experience something frightening. All because... only until you scare yourself and challenge yourself will you grow. I intend to scare myself for many years to come.

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself"

- Leo Tolstoy

This is my passion – challenging myself and others to grow. Be humbled by the unknown, face needless fears, and continue to seek knowledge and truth. Only when peace is found within, will peace be found on earth.

For now… Peace! -Julie

Hitch #4: A day in the life; The conundrum of peeing; Eating, Praying, and Loving...

(Me playing in a new culvert... like a mini bridge)

Eating, praying, and loving… but mostly eating…

Upon leaving graduate school and moving to the woods, one of my beloved professors told me this: “If you need your eat, pray love moment, go for it.” For those of you unfamiliar with the popular book and movie, I would recommend reading or watching it (especially if you love to travel or eat!). I find it inspirationally tragic and hopeful – a story savored and devoured by my young, ever-searching, always- confused soul. My 6 month experience in Montana has been mostly praying – praying to keep bears away, praying in storms, etc. I’ve loved a bit here as well – love for my crewmates and roommates, love for the beauty of the mountains, but I’ve sent most of my love home to family and friends.

But eating… The benefit of doing manual labor for 10 hours a day is the unmitigated freedom of food. Mind you, food has always been a delight for me, and dieting has never been on my list of activities, but when I return from 20 days in the wilderness, I celebrate my metabolism (and tastebuds!) more than ever before. There is a café near my apartment that fulfills my indulgences… muffins, cookies, cakes… Carrot cake. Oh my. It must be one of my kindred spirits, for I feel heavenly each time I eat it. If marriage ever comes my way, a carrot cake wedding cake is all I need for a magical event (a groom may help too, I suppose!).

I also discovered that my oven is, in fact, broken! Which means that I am not a terrible cook. It also means that I have been baking at home in addition to eating out. Chocolate-mocha cake has been my personal favorite, yum! I fear when this program is over, I will continue this wonderfully tragic eating pattern. Please mind your step as you see me rolling down the sidewalk in November in desperate search for more carrot cake…

A Day in the Life

My alarm beeps at 6:15, I put my cold carhartts on, my smelly Americorps shirt, and all the layers I can reach, then shiver my way to breakfast consisting usually of bread with nutella or an oatmeal packet and a mug of hot cocoa, then brush teeth, re-hang the bearhangs, fill 4 liters of water bottles with filtered creek water, then jump into our morning stretch circle at 7:15am. Then we hike… hike… hike… most recently we’ve been working just over 2 miles from camp – quite the commute. I really can’t believe I’ve been hiking 4 miles daily plus hours of manual labor in a day… it’s like nothing these days.

Work, for me, mostly consists of using a pick and a shovel to widen and smooth the trail. We also clean-up after the chain saws (only our leaders are chainsaw certified, which is okay with me!). Our aim is to have 3ft on each side of the trail cleared of trees, branches, etc. It’s strange cutting things down… when in a conservation corps we should be conserving? Slightly oxymoronic.

We just entered a wet part of the trail – creeks everywhere! Which is exciting because we get to build bridges (Photo: me doing bridge-pose on one of our bridges) – it’s much more technical and skilled labor and quite refreshing after hours of monotonous pick-swinging.

At the end of the day, upon returning to camp, I usually just take off my boots, throw on some sandals, and help make dinner. We are usually in our tents by 8:30pm. I try desperately to write in my journal and read a little before I fall asleep after the long day. I’m usually out by 9:30, but I wake up several times a night – noises scare me constantly and I usually have to use nature’s restroom…

The Conundrum of Peeing at Night

Apologies for the vulgarity of this title, but I have avoided writing this story long enough. Since my first night in a tent in Montana, I have been entertained by this topic. When on the road, I find myself relieved when either the vehicle has terrible gas mileage, or there is a small child traveling along. Why? Well, I often need to stop at the ladies room. Often. So, the conundrum of peeing at night is that it inevitably happens to me each and every night. I seem to be an anomaly.

So, each and every night I wake up in the deep, dark woods of Idaho, uncinch my sleeping bag, wriggle my way out, reach around for my always-lost glasses, fumble with my headlamp, unzip my tent, slip on some sandals, and proceed to stumble and trample away from my tent (about 20-30 ft as this is known to attracts animals – yikes!). Everywhere I look there is an ominous shadow, which I swear just moved. Totally freaked, I switch off my headlamp, and in squatting position discover why this continues to be a conundrum…

Like a moth to the flame, my eyes lift to the heavens and I stare breathlessly at the magnificent sight of glittering stars. I am planted to that spot, all of my worries and fears have gone. All I can do is watch the stars. This reaction may seem a little dramatic, but for most of my life I have lived in areas without many stars. And for these twenty-some years, I have loved the small handful of stars visible from the suburbs.

I know nothing of constellations or telescopes. I got a B- in Astronomy. But, I know a little something of being humbled by greatness. I have walked silently through grand cathedrals in Europe built without modern technology. I repeatedly stand in the shadow of history in stories I read of men and women that have shaped the world through small, seemingly insignificant actions. Feeling small… it is a feeling I have come to embrace, as that is what I am, what we all are.Just a girl, peeing in the woods, under a blanket of sparking infinity. So while it my be an inconvenience, it is an inconvenience I don't mind having.

One hitch left! <3julie

Hitch #3: Plain Jane; We Heart Bearhangs; Fears in a Tent; What Next?

Still in Idaho!

Yes, we are still working on the same trail in Idaho - will be until mid-October. It's not all bad (though my journal quote may argue otherwise!). As I approach the end of my week-off, I am ready to once again hike several miles into the middle of nowhere, snuggle in sleeping bags with nothing but conversations and books by the light of a headlamp for entertainment. I was so fortunate to see my parents in July - they made the big journey out west to attend a wedding with long-time family friends. Though it was a quick (quick!) trip, they were able to witness the mountainous, hail-ridden, rainbow-covered little town I now call home... and want me to come home now (more than ever!) Speaking of wanting to come home, here is a journal snapshot of day 15 in the woods...

Day 15 - Journal entry:

Alright. I’m officially tired of sleeping in a tent. Tired of being surrounded by bugs. Tired of sore feet. Tired of smelly clothes. I want to shower. I want to sleep in a bed, in a structure with walls. I want to drink a beer and watch a movie. I’m done... for this month, at least =)

Plain Jane

I am a rather plain-Jane here in the wilderness. I’ve had to wear glasses everyday as my hands become far too dirty to consider poking contact lenses into my eyes. No make-up shows the pores in my skin and my eyes look tired without the perk of contacts. I rotate two shirts and two pairs of pants over the course of 8 days until we (thankfully!) use the laundry machines at the ranger station. I add a bit of pizazz to my ensemble with colorful bandannas – pink, blue, green, red – paisley, polka-dotted. Without the luxury of make-up and trendy clothing, I have nothing but my personality to define my character… a slightly vulnerable place to be! But I appreciate the humility that accompanies this lifestyle. It better suits the wanna-be-altruistic goals and dreams of young 20-somethings than a life of consumption and vanity ever could. To Plain-Janes everywhere!

We Heart Bearhangs

Day Two began with a one mile hike to our nearest source of water… our source of life! We each filled a 5 gallon jug of water, plopped the jugs in our backpacks and like a group of pack mules proceeded to hike a mile back to camp… with 40 lbs of water strapped to our backs. This water would last us a few days until (yes) we would need to return for more.

We then hiked two miles to begin work (that’s a 4 mile total hiking so far...) We cleared brush for about ¼ mile, when our lookout tower sent word that another crew member was about to hike to our camp (yes, the lookouts look-out for us! We mostly communicate with lookout ‘Whitehawk’ though we know his real name is JT). According to policy, we cannot hike alone, so two crewmembers placed the brush work aside, ventured down the trail, and two of us were left to continue working.

Left behind, my crewmate and I decided a two-man clearing team was far too inefficient to continue. Instead, we decided to return to the stream, filled another 5 gallon jug of water each and again completed our pack-mule routine.

6:30pm. We prepare dinner for the three crew members still hiking back to camp, and wait… wait… wait… until about 8:45pm they finally arrive – panting, sweat glistening in the rapidly sinking sunlight. We eat a quick meal, then sleepily prepare our three bearhangs just as we are losing light, exhaustedly thrilled that we are moments from snuggling into our sleeping bags after a long day of work and hiking.

9:30pm. I run to grab my headlamp as none of us are prepared for darkness. As I stumble in the darkness back to the bearhangs… SNAP. OOF! THUD. The rope of bearhang #1 snapped, sending the three bodies that had been heaving tumbling backwards in a heaping cluster. The bags on the opposing end came smashing to the ground, shattering a jar of marinara sauce everywhere.

9:45pm. The sun is now gone. By the light of our headlamps, we sop up the garlic-tomato mess, and redistribute weight to other bearhangs.Bearhang #2 slides up the tree as we throw our body weight (and trust) into our rope-pulley system. CREEEK. The branch of Bearhang #2 bends under its new weight, and our bags slowly slide to the end and slip off, down, down, down, THUD.

10pm. We have now lost 2 bear hangs, only one remains. Tossingnalgene bottles attached to rope, into trees, in the dark, we attempt to create new bear hangs. Ever heard that Nalgene bottles are indestructible? Us too. Nalgene #1: lid-loop snaps apart on 3rd toss. Nalgene #2: first toss, bottom blows out on unknown object in the tree. Still no new bearhang, Nalgene myth busted (literally).

10:15pm. Bats are now swooping at our headlamps, delighting in the swarms of bugs attracted to the light. Stars are out, watching our mess.

A rock is now tied to the end of the rope as a tossing device… seems to be logical at this point. Victoriously (it was all crewleader, Ben) we (he) successfully tosses 3 new bearhangs in the dark. Up the bags go into the tree. Garbage bag snags on the way up... PLOP. There goes the peanutbutter. PLOP. The olive oil falls next. Where is the lid to the olive oil? Will a stick plug the lid?! Duct tape! Duct tape fixes everything.

10:45pm. Olive oil secure. New garbage bag. All bearhangs successfully hoisted into the trees. Up since 6am. Several miles of hiking. Down a jar of marinara. 2 broken nalgenes. Hundreds of exhausted giggled... at least the mashed potatoes at dinner were amazing!

Fears in a Tent

One night, as we were returning from work, the wind picked up and dark clouds rolled in from every angle of the big, wide, Idahoan sky. We struggled to hang a tarp above our 'kitchen' (proving to be more of a sail than a sheild...). I started cutting cheese for our favorite grilled cheese dinner when the radio revealed the impending storm: quarter-sized hail and 60 mph winds, "seek shelter away from rivers and streams." We packed away the cheese for another night, ate some instant rice, and packed everything away - under rocks, in heavy bins. We were about to retreat to our tents when the skies cleared and the sun shone brightly. Too tired to take down the bearhangs (because we've been down that road before...) we sat under our flimsy tarp, painfully laughing at our miserably memorable situation.

Later than night, the storm finally hit. Hard. The lightening was terrifying. The rain and hail sounded like it was slowly chiseling away at my rain-cover. I imagined it piercing through the sheer material, landing on my face, filling my tent, drowning myself and belongings. I can smell the forest fires in the distance (there were 4 simultaneously in our area – we were never in danger, but the smell of the smoke was still freaky).

My mind always imagining the worst, "Lightening just struck the tree next to my tent... and now it’s on fire... what am I doing out here?!” Tiny animals crawl under my tent, seeking shelter and warmth from the storm I guess, their scratching noises keeping me up all night. (Photo: taken near Bozeman - yes, that is a forest fire next to the road... No Julie's were injured in the taking of this photo, and the fire has been controlled since this was taken).

Other nights, each noise outside of my tent sounds like a giant grizzly bear plotting my death. My crewmate snoring is the snorting of a big, bad wolf. A creaking branch is an elk about to trample my little yellow tent. Defenseless, I try to put my headphones on to relax… but the gentle voice of Ben Harper is even more terrifying because I can’t hear my impending doom outside. Ha. The mind plays tricks, and I always emerge safely from my tent... slightly tired, but always safe =)

What next?

The impending end of this program begs the question, "what next?" Welp, I am hear to inform that I do not yet know. The question is undoubtedly plaguing my thoughts and focus, but knowing that these thoughts change daily, here is what I have to offer for now, and I will not speak of it again until November: "I may not yet know where I am going in life, but I know who I am, what I believe, and what I dream." - Journal day 9.

Until next month... Jules

Hitch #2

Phew! Being away from technology for 20 days certainly speeds time... only my little red journal I keep in my tent slows time for me these days.

HITCH BY THE NUMBERS!

For you fellow math lovers, here's a little equation:
1 Hitch = 20 days + 55 miles of hiking + 150 hours of work + 100 gallons of water + 5 miles of completed trail + 30 grilled cheeses - 7 lbs of bodyweight (ha, yup!)
So, there you have it.

Our House (is a very, very very...)

The trail we are now unearthing is 25 miles long, located in the Boise Nat'l Forest. We will work on this trail until mid-October. Since we started working at the bottom of the 25 mile trail, the forest service provided a house for us to stay in the first week of our hitch. We will continue to stay in this house the first and last nights of our hitches, but as we continue up the trail, we will start camping as we go. We will camp 10 miles in the backcountry during our next hitch, 15 miles in the following hitch, and so forth.

So this house. This house has become our house (is a very, very, very...), complete with dark-brown wood paneling, brown shag carpeting, avocado and gold-detailed floor tiles, a dusty ceiling fan that hums, a deck that hosts nights of cigarettes and conversations (me only enjoying the latter, don't worry, mom!), mismatched living room furniture including a light-blue, pleather La-Z-boy (really? lightblue pleather?). Like true 20-somethings, we have stocked the freezer with frozen pizzas. Our living room was host to an epic arm-wrestling competition, first the right arm, then the left, and there is talk of hosting pretend American Idol auditions in the near future. Being removed from television, internet, and cellphone reception sparks such creativity (and fun!)

"It's just a 6 mile Hike"

I have been guilty of diminishing the struggle that is a 6 mile hike to "just" a 6 mile hike, until a friend kindly (and forcefully) reminded me that 6 miles is nothing but "just." If I really think about it, the hike to our campsite was quite challenging. Heavy breathing, slight pinching of muscles under the weight of backpacks, the need to drink an entire gallon of water in one day. For you yoga-naysayers, I would like to share that when I focus on the kinesiology of my body, and use all of my muscles, especially my core (abdomen), I am able to emerge from a 6 mile hike and 10 hour work days pain-free.

Living in the woods is "not an Alternative Lifestyle!"

Here are a couple of our favorite things about our alternative lifestyle:

#1: Being the weird people at rest stops.
Yes, often lacking showers and clean clothing, 5 of us piling out of a white suburban with tools and propane tanks piled on top, we are humbled into a category "people you try not to stare at because they look strange." It is one of our favorite things.

#2: Dinnertime.
Whether we are eating dehydrated beef stroganoff from a bag, or challenging each other to eat more grilled cheese sandwiches (the standing record is 4), dinner is a time for us to share food, swaps stories from the day, and continue our never-ending conversation-topic, "what will you do when you get back in town?" Our warm, communal environment at meals reinforces the notion that a kitchen, even among trees, bushed, deerflies, and spiders, is the heart of a home.

"I'd like to be a catcher in the rye..."

One of my favorite pastimes in the wilderness (and in my cable-less apartment) has been reading. Reading for pleasure. After hours of research and reading for class in graduate school, the last thing I wanted to do in my free time was read more. How wrong I was...! I am enjoying every word I read, every thought, every emotion.

Books I've read in the backcountry: Pope Joan, To Kill a Mockingbird, the Red Tent, Dandelion Wine, Catcher in the Rye and You Shall Know our Velocity! A mix of classic, contemporary, and historical fiction. I love them all - especially Mockingbird, Dandelion, and Catcher.

If you are sentimental and nostalgic, like, you have ever saved dried, dead flowers from senior prom and cant seem to part with the crinkled, brown petals, or you have a rock on your desk that you know you plucked from the ground from a meaningful place... but you can't remember where... but you know for sure it was monumental in your life... Dandelion Wine is for you.

If you seek inspiration in humbling, quiet places, and your dreams, though you try to reign them in, burst through stubborn reality into a Utopian Heaven-on-Earth, Mockingbird will blossom in your soul.

And finally, if you have ever lost control of neurotic thoughts, those that judge others harshly, labeling the world as less than deserving of your presence or perhaps as "phony" compared to the brilliant inner-workings of your mind... or have ever been drowned by questions of purpose or meaning, please, indulge in a little Catcher in the Rye.

As for historical fiction - I simply love reading about courageous female characters, breaking bonds of tradition. Pillars of the Earth and World Without End are still my two favorites. And if you've never read Dave Eggers, start with Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - you won't regret it.

Recommendations?? Assume I fit the above descriptions...

Until next month...

Take care, learn something new, and have an adventure today!

-Jules

HITCH #1

I am currently sitting in one of my favorite coffee shop sipping on a chai latte, enjoying a rich, fluffy quiche, wearing makeup and contacts… a long way from where I’ve been for the last 20 days! Difficult to choose a starting-point… so I’ll just jump right into it.

Our Trail near Idaho City

We spent the last 20 days working on a trail in the Boise National Forest near Idaho City.

About 1.5 hrs from civilization, we set up camp: our individual tents plus we are fortunate to be using a huge army-style tent (photo), complete with a little tin fireplace and tin-tube chimney. We share our meals in this great big tent every night – stir-fry, burritos, grilled cheese, chili – we eat surprisingly well in the middle of nowhere! Each morning we would hike 1-2 miles up and out of our little valley (complete with an ice-cold, snow-melted, mountain creek) into the mountains of the Boise National Forest (photo below: view during our hike to work). Each day we would work further along the trail, making the hike a little longer every day. Somehow our bodies were able to keep up and stretch the distance. The trail was in poor condition. Water runs down the trail and scoops out the bottom leaving it narrow and deep – terrible for walking and horseback riding. We widen the trail, build drains and water bars to avoid future erosion, and cleared brush/trees out of the path. Our crew of 6 covered almost 3 miles of trail in 20 days, and we are now old pros =)

Hot Springs

During our “hitch” (as we lovingly call our 20 days out in the wilderness), we get 3 days off for some R&R (it is much-needed!) One of those days we ventured to Lowman in search of Hot Springs.

Being a Midwestern flatlander, this was my first encounter with hot springs. After stumbling along a rocky, ice-cold river shore while simultaneously scaling/climbing the rocky side of a mountain, we finally found the sulfur-enhanced, rust-colored hot spring waterfall – smelling slightly of rotten eggs and rushing streams of hot, steamy water. We found a small pool to sit in, the warm water crashing and splashing all around us. This was an un-established, natural hot spring which, for me, was the best first encounter. There are more formal hot springs – complete with live bands, beverages, and lots of company. I foresee wandering to one of these establishments in the future…=)

Mice in my tent

Though I’m still in the honeymoon stage of this experience, it’s not all romantic in the woods. For example, one day I made the rookie mistake of not zipping my tent entirely closed, leaving a couple inches of zipper teeth separated. When we returned from a day of work I unzipped my tent to find the book I was reading (Pope Joan) had been nibbled all along the edges and there was a faint smell of what I grew-up knowing as ‘hamster cage’ fragrance – unpleasant indeed! After disinfecting some items and trash-bagging others, I nestled into my sleeping bag for the night. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rustling… coming from inside of my tent… scurrying from one corner of my tent to the next… to the next. (Photo: view from my tent)

Frantically I reached for my flashlight, which I soon discovered had a dead bulb – no amount of new AA batteries could save it. Still listening to the scurrying in the darkness, totally defeated, I zipped myself back into my sleeping bag, cinched the top as tightly around my head as possible, and forced myself to close my eyes and rest peacefully… one with nature. On the bright side, my new furry roommate didn’t chew a hole through my tent. I kicked him out the next day.

We’ve come to find that mice are our biggest problem in the wilderness – not bears, wolves, coyotes, elk, moose – no. Tiny, surprisingly destructive mice. At night, we watch their tiny little shadows crawling over the tops of our tents in the moonlight. When they are outside, I don’t mind them. In fact, their miniature outlines on my tent are almost cute… in a Disney Princess kind of way.

Bear-bait

Yes, you read correctly. Bear bait. One day, as we were meandering down the mountain back to camp after work, a kind gentleman in a white pickup pulled over and offered us a ride. Thankfully, we hopped in the back of the truck. Immediately we knew this kind gesture would have been better rejected. A thick waft of the most horrific, manure-like stench radiated from every inch of the truck bed. I assumed this man must be fertilizing and I calmly stuck my nose in my sweatshirt for the remainder of the ride.

Back at camp, the one lucky crew member who sat in the front with the driver informed us that the crude substance in the truck was not fertilizer. No. We had been sitting in remnants of bear-bait (animal intestines and such). The man in the truck was a bear-trapper. The smell clung to our clothes which I immediately bagged and put in the suburban. No bear-bait smells in my tent – the mice are bad enough!

Baseball-sized hail

I’ve had this entire week of – I will get to enjoy Independence Day, then we leave Monday for another 20 days. It has been a great week – I tried Bikram yoga for the first time (yoga in a hot room), I’ve been tearing through Dandelion Wine (a summertime must-read), and enjoying the quaintness of our town. During my relaxing week, however, I was introduced to the Armageddon-like weather apparently standard here in the summer. While on a run, I noticed some disturbingly dark clouds rolling towards town, so I decided to cut my distance and return home.

Safely inside, I sat in our barren living room, watching the dark clouds inch closer in our large picture window. The wind gained strength and was soon bending trees like flimsy prairie grass. Suddenly, snowball-size hail started falling from the sky. Staring, stunned, I heard the glass shatter nearby and tripped my way into a hallway closet. Special thanks to my poor mother for taking a call from her shaken 24 year old, huddling inside of a closet (you are never too old to call mom… or to hide in a closet). Unfortunately my car did have some damage – along with the rest of the town. Everywhere I go there are broken windshields, massive dents, missing headlights, damaged siding. The window I had been next to in our living room has spiderweb cracks running though it. Yikes.

Baking at altitude… and failing…

One of my favorite pastimes is attempting to bake – cookies, muffins, etc. I say “attempting” because it is not one of my God-given talents. I burn cookies, misread recipes, drop pans, cause smoke detectors to come to life and often need several fans to recover. There is no logical reason why I continue to bake, other than I love it.

Since I moved here, however, I have managed to burn everything I place in the oven, including my banana muffins, which are one recipe I can usually manage. I asked for advice about baking at altitude. I have been informed that higher altitude causes undercooking, not overcooking. Ugh. It’s now either the oven or me. Either way, I am on a baking hiatus and will settle for making puppy chow… until I decide to resume my irrational love affair with baking.

20 more days beginning Monday!

Yes, our crew is going back out for another 20 days beginning Monday. So far I am loving this experience. The mission statement of the MCC isn't to build the best trails (though we do high quality work). No, the mission is to develop young leaders through civic engagement and active citizenship. Everyone is required to do service work outside of trail work and attend city meetings. This is what I love. I'm planning to apply as a crew leader next year, nothing has scared me away yet!

Until next time -Jules xo

Bear training, Trail-blazing, and an Exclamation point tent

(This will be my last blog entry for 20 days....)

Last week was "How to work and survive this program 101." My crew of 6 loaded up our 'burban with supplies for a few days, and went to the Beaverhead National Forest for a test-run - to see what life will be like for 20 days during our real hitches.

We arrived at the trail, knowing only that we would stop hiking once we saw other people on the trail. I didn't realize that we were about to hike up and over a mini mountain with pickaxes, shovels, and other tools I can't quite yet name. Though we were all and winded, we stuck together as a group and slowly trudged up the steep incline. It felt great, getting the heart pumping, blood flowing - a bit more physically demanding than grad school =)

We reached the top, and then I saw it... snow.

Definitely the highest elevation I've ever been! We saw the other

crews off in the distance and joined them. We were helping forest rangers dig a new trail as the other one had suffered serious water erosion (apparently it hadn't been built properly in the first place). So yes, we were "blazing" a new trail - basically, removing top soil for the rangers to later shape and fill. We probably "blazed" slightly less than a mile - ended up on a hill filled with sage brush which we had to hack our way through - literally. It smelled like an herbal spa after a while.

After hours of work and some sore muscles, we stored our tools under some loose brush (since we would return to work the next day) and proceeded back down the steep trail to camp, way down in the valley. I have a love-hate relationship with gravity, hate it on the way up, but love it coming down.

Have I mentioned that it had been raining the entire day? Cold... wet... but really, no complaints.

Our tents were set with surprising ease (mine is the one with the exclamation point, shocking...), and we made a huge pasta meal at our site - complete with alfredo, yum! It rained all night - it was exciting... almost romantic listening to the light floops of water bouncing on my tent. Fortunately, I stayed dry throughout the night, but I cannot say the same for my fellow campers... =)

The next day we hiked back up and over the same small peak and completed a few hundred more feet of trail (many hands make light work). We retrieved our tools after lunch and once again hiked down to the valley - for bear training! Oh my. We basically just learned the differences between black bears and grizzlys (Grizzly bears = bad, Black bears = giant raccoons). We all practiced spraying bear spray (the wind changed toward the end of the line... giving some of us the sniffles). I feel pretty good about it, though - no worries. I am going to purchase my first dry-bag to put food/toiletries in to hang in the trees away from our bear-friends.

Gone for 20 days:

Yup, I leave tomorrow for 20 days in the Boise National Forest. We have purchased about $400 worth of food for the first 10 days and make a trip into town to re-load for the second 10 days. I know we will mostly be working on trails - more than just removing top soil this time =) It will be warmer in Idaho than Montana, and I can't wait to get into the hot sun!

Until the end of June, hugs all around,

Julie