An Ode to South Dakota Farm Boys [Preceded by Contemplative Ramblings]

Hi. Guess what, I haven't posted in some time. My bad. Life is busy up here in the Northwoods, for me at least. Let's just pretend that I've been constantly blogging though.

I just got back from my most recent trip two days ago, and since my return I've entered and remained in 'zombie mode' - something that has become a post-trip habit. I go out on the water, guiding groups into the wilderness, offering myself as a source of strength, endurance and moral, and we have fun. I love time in the wilderness and time with interesting and fun people. And yet when I am responsible for peoples' well-being a good 16 hours a day (and in the sun about that many hours a day) the inherent stress that comes with that amount of responsibility gradually takes its toll. And I come back and crash. (Thank goodness trip leaders have an automatic day off scheduled in the day after returning from a trip!) Friends at camp ask, do I want to go for a canoeing outing now that I have a day off? Uh, ... no. How 'bout a movie, a cold beer and a dash of leave me alone for awhile. (I like to think that I'm not actually that rude, though...)

In my last post (What? Over a month ago? My apologies.) I mentioned enjoying times of silence and reflection. I also mentioned not missing things like the Daily Show, movies, or YouTube. Here's the latest update: What I have learned about myself this summer is not that I thrive in solitude and in perpetual reflection. I have now grown to realize that I thrive in experiencing contrasts. Coming from working in a middle school and spending lots of time with friends, time spent in solitude and reflection was welcoming and needed. The wilderness provides and excellent source of recreation after spending time in a city. And so it goes. But after making a summer career of nature, solitude and reflection, I've discovered that sometimes I just need to sit in a dark room inside and watch movies; listen to loud music (e.g. Rage Against the Machine) at high volumes; enjoy simple pleasures in life without having to deconstruct them/figure out how I feel about them/wonder where the deeper meaning lies...

I think I've always known this about myself. I have often said that my favorite season is the current season (unless it's been going on for over 2 months, in which case my favorite season is the upcoming season). I love summer because every few weeks a different fruit ripens and thus becomes my new pancake filling/topping of choice. I now have more music in my collection than my 80GB iPod can hold, but it still seems bland without my constant discovering of new recording artists.

Not to say that I need constant change in my life. Despite the ever-expanding music collection, every re-listen to Radiohead's The Bends brings satisfaction and new appreciation... It's more that I find contrast helpful in appreciating the many aspects of life. Summer helps me remember the joy of fresh vegetables and shorts, and winter reminds me that there are times when mosquitoes all die... and that fireplaces are the best things ever. Similarly, prolonged periods of contemplative thought make me long for some darts, some board games and my dude friends. So it goes.

[Begin transition back to Trip Leading/South Dakota Farm Boys. Go.]

I am currently in day two of vacation (due to a particularly crazy week for all staff + various staff families visiting we get 3 days off this time), and I am still a zombie. Yesterday I was even more of a zombie. Why the extra zombiedom? As it happened, I was recovering from not one but two back-to-back canoe trips. Two Thursdays ago I headed out on a family Father-Son trip for four days, returning only to clean up and pack for another early morning departure with a youth group. Stress levels high - danger! System overload! Thankfully both groups were great and made the situation as good as it could have been.

IN FACT, the second group - a group of 5 older guys from a larger visiting South Dakota youth group - was so great that it almost a vacation from trip leading in itself, despite that fact that I was trip leading. Upon further reflection, I decided that my time with them was worth of a blog post. (Actually, I had already begun composing the post the second morning out on the water, as they packed up camp in record time...)

On the morning of our departure I wasn't nervous or apprehensive, but at the same time I had no idea how this trip was going to go. Having just returned with a different group, my guys had been oriented by other staff and I had only briefly met them late the night before. As I drove to the drop off point in the camp pick up truck, Jon - one of my guys - joined me in the cab. We talked of his life [He's now graduated from high school and attending a nearby technical college with ambitions of taking over the family cattle farm.] and of vegetarianism. Here was a young lad on a walk of life very different from mine, yet on many levels similar to me (note camping activities about to be described), with a good head on his shoulders, a good heart and full of interesting thoughts. I was encouraged.

We hit the water on a rather large lake, and paddling (it became apparent) was going to be a bit of a struggle. First, I realized I had inadvertently paired the two weakest paddlers together (quickly remedied by a little mid-lake swapping), and furthermore many of these guys were still learning the rudiments of stern paddling (aka - steering). I began to offer my routine 'unsolicited advice' (my euphemism for constructive criticism), and I was very impressed with their positive response to it. Then came portaging.

Having already taken three groups out on the water, I had come to dread the first few days of portaging. Inevitably, even if a group was good at the actual portaging process (the carrying of packs and canoes between lakes on designated trails), efficiency would quickly become a concern. One canoe would pull up to a landing, cautiously step out, carefully arrange life jackets and paddles, take their time extracting packs from canoes, and take drinks from water bottles, eventually pulling their canoes out of the water... all while the remaining canoes in the group sat idly in the water. In response to this phenomenon, I began developing and tweaking an on-the-water 'Portaging Efficiency' curriculum (essentially, land, packs out, canoe out, then deal with other stuff while the next canoe unloads). When I tried out my experimental lesson with this group at the first portage they got it! No questions asked or further directions given. And from the next portage on if I was in the last canoe these guys would be disappearing down the portage trail before my canoe even got to the landing! Wow!

Another challenge of trip leading lies in getting group members to help with camp chores. Often the tendency upon arriving at a campsite is to want to fish, not set up tents. Not so with this group. We arrived at our first campsite hungry and with rain clouds looming. I proposed setting up tents before lunch in case it did rain. No questions asked. Boom, the tents were up. "So are you guys ready to eat?" Sure, but shouldn't we set up the rain fly first? Well, yeah but... wow, I love you guys. When it came time to complete other camp chores, the guys were eager. I showed one guy how to operate the water filter and not only did he gladly complete the task, he continued to volunteer to pump water throughout the trip before I ever got the chance to suggest it again!

In the morning, when it came time to get packing, I got the guys up fairly early. No problem. Up they rose, getting most of their things packed before I had finished making breakfast. [Another note: on the morning we left base camp, whereas I usually have to rouse groups that have overslept and prod them along to get packed, I came to check up on my group to see if they were awake. Not only were they awake, but they were heading down the hill 10 minutes early, bags packed, AND they had found the extra time to take showers that morning.] They were officially - by far - the fastest group I had ever led. On our third and final morning they were standing around with packed packs, bored, waiting for me to finish packing. Good work dudes.

When it came time to play, these guys played just as hard as they worked. Whether I joined in or just read and let boys be boys they were well-behaved, concerned enough for their own safety that I didn't have to worry, and creative. Activities included searching for crawdads, pine cone wars, building fires, skipping stones, swimming and playing with canoes, berry picking, and evening games of pinochle. (To be honest, when they started having pine cone wars, I was jealous and longed for my teenage years.) What fun. Truly a vacation from 'hard work' (my original goal in coming up here this summer). Even during evening discussions, they contributed genuine and thoughtful ideas, including many perspectives I had not even considered.

By the time it was over (an all-too-quick 2.5 days later) I was simply in awe. Whether due to lifestyle, geographic location, parental upbringing, or simply individual personalities these guys were a pleasure to guide. They were helpful, respectful, and were great with taking initiative, be it with chores or play. Would that we all take note of their example in these things. (And let us never forget the joy of skipping stones.)