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