NHVSP 2010 Update 8

To the Distant Readers of my Expedition Log,

The white pines reach high into the sky here, their needles covering the forest in a thick coat. The frosted grass crackles under my rubber boats as I make my way across the meadow. The wind howls through the cedars, and the cold bites into the flesh each morning and night…yet everyday the sun warms the earth with the palm of its rays, the frost slowly thins, the ice starts to drip, and the day begins. The Northeast Kingdom is warming in the breath of spring.

We arrived at NorthWoods Stewardship Center, just outside of East Charleston, VT, from our solos on the 23rd and 24th. Ari, Eliot, and Yarrow arrived first and began the setup of camp, our home for the coming month. By the time Erica and I arrived, the main cook tent was set and warm. We all continued the setup of base camp until dark when Paul, Scott, and Oliver tumbled into the tent in time for a late dinner. We spent the night exchanging stories of our adventures, and laughed into the late hours until we fell heavily into the cocoon of our sleeping bags. When we awoke the next morning we continued in the preparation of our camp. We had to set five large, canvas wall tents – a combination kitchen and dining tent, boys tent, girls tent, staff tent, and guest tent - build up a month’s worth of firewood, collect boughs for all the floors, and organize all of our gear and personal equipment. By midday we heard Anna, Kendra, Melody, and Mistral coming up the path and soon our group was whole again. They jumped right into the work and we continued on until dinner. The meal was filled with and everyone told tales of their journey to Northwoods. It was a five-day solo which some of us turned into four days. Each group arrived safe, sound and pleased with their adventure.

When we set out from Heartbeet, we spaced the time between each solo group so as to avoid bumping into each other. We traveled along the V.A.S.T. (Vermont Association of Snow Travelers) snowmobile trails the whole way. It was a total of 56 kilometers with very little elevation change. The trail wound through beautiful farmland, thick forests, and rolling fields. The weather was warm and rained most of the time. We waded through mud the whole way, leaving our skis packed in the trailer. We passed through many small towns and had a chance to talk with the people living there. Yarrow, Eliot, and Ari found themselves on an adventure when they hiked all through the night during the pouring rain, and arrived at Northwoods at 1:30 in the morning, two days early.

Melody, Anna, Mistral, and Kendra spent one night in a barn full of rare, miniature Scottish sheep, sleeping in the hay next to the animals. The barn was warm and the hay was soft and
thick. Paul, Scott, and Oliver’s adventure brought them work hauling firewood for a man on the mountain. Erica and I witnessed the wildlife first-hand as we traveled along, standing right next to a pair of fighting mink and tons of birds. When we left, Misha gave each of the groups the assignment of meeting someone new and telling them our story, and volunteering for a service project for someone in need. When you came across someone who needed a hand, your group would help out without anything in return, just for the pleasure of it. All of the groups got to meet new a wonderful people this way and we all had a wonderful time doing a kind act for a stranger. Solos were an amazing experience for us all, and learning to survive and make decisions in a small group is a skill that will serve us for the rest of our lives.

Now as I write, our camp has been officially set and we can begin to focus on our projects for the spring and the rhythm of our day-to-day life. We wake up and jump into chores like we did in January, back at Kroka base camp. There is still firewood to be split each morning, two people start cooking, water has to be hauled from the stream, and someone needs to take care of our bathroom waste and dump it in the compost pile. During the day we have been organizing all of our winter expedition gear. It has to be separated into what needs to stay for the canoe trip and what needs to be sent home. All of our skis have been waxed and our poles and boots put away; our spring boxes have been pulled out and combined with our winter boxes in this unusual weather, one day hot and one day freezing cold. We are washing all of our clothes in the stream. We also have to finish up our individual Big Job work as we prepare to switch into new roles for the spring. Then we will be presenting our Big Job overview from the winter trail to each other.


We are writing thank-you cards to the many wonderful people who have helped us along the way, and writing main lesson pages on the myriad things we have learned on trail. For example, we have been studying trees since the beginning of our trip and now each tree we have met will get a page in which it is drawn in detail, along with natural history information. We are also doing pages on our experience of making shelters, all the first aid training we’ve learned. All of these will be bound together at the end of the semester into a main lesson book that people can read for years to come and each of us will get a copy. This way all the great things we’ve learned can stay with us for the rest of our lives.

As soon as our workload has settled down some, we will begin with our spring projects. We will be pounding ash for pack-basket making when Chris and Ashira Knapp arrive, then we will make our pack-baskets in two days. We will be building a canoe with Rollin Thurlow of Northwoods Canoe in a weeklong period of time. We will then begin paddle making with Ray Reitze, mentor and Grandfather to Kroka. Our time here is filled to the brim and there is lots to do. Every minute is filled with joy.

As I mentioned before, we will be switching Big Jobs soon. The spring awakens, as does a fresh new voice of our journey. I’ve told all there is for me to tell, and now I pass the pen on. I wish I could put to words how being the semester scribe has affected me. I wish I could write some elaborate ending that flourishes and leaves you thinking hard, but I’m not sure that’s my style and I’m not sure that’s how I want to end. I’d rather tell you it’s merely the beginning and the good part has yet to come. So thanks, thank you for listening to our tale. The river awaits and so begins the second chapter.

Truly yours,

Iyla Therese

NHVSP 2010 Update 7

To the Far Away Readers of My Traveler’s Log,

I write from rolling hills and spring breezes, from the far side of a tumbling stream, my toes tucked into the sun-warmed mud, from the tall back of a cedar’s trunk, from the sun-kissed fields of farmland, from a thriving community of the heart.

We arrived here, just outside of Hardwick, VT, on Tuesday the 16th with our ski boots caked in mud and our skin glowing red from the spring sun. The dust from the road clung to our skin, and salty beads dropped from our brows as we climbed along the winding dirt road. Soon the trees parted and we found ourselves in open fields. We had arrived at our final layover.

We are staying at Heartbeet, a “Lifesharing” community in the style of Camphill Villages, where workers, volunteers from around the world, and adults with special needs and mental disabilities live side-by-side in large community houses. Life revolves around community living – every day we witness the care and devotion of this thriving heart. Having come from such a tight-knit community, we can look closer into the well-oiled joints of this larger group. There is much to learn from them and we have a great deal of respect for all the members who contribute.

Heartbeet is 160 acres of farmland. All dairy is fresh from their hand-milked cows and sustains the entire community. Much of their produce comes from their extensive gardens and root cellar. In our short time here, we have already jumped into community projects. Each morning and afternoon two of us help with barn and farm chores, with Anna, Anne, and others milking cows by hand. On Wednesday our group split in half, one half learning wet felting, the rest of us learning needle felting. Thursday we did a few hours of service work for the farm – Oliver, Yarrow, Erica and Scott repaired tools and replaced handles; Paul, Mistral, Melody, Kendra, and Anne raked the driveway and filled in the potholes; and Ari, Anna, Eliot, and I mucked out the chicken coop, which had been building up manure since last spring. It felt good to work, and we enjoyed returning a favor to Heartbeet for their extreme generosity toward us.

Wednesday we also had the great pleasure of meeting and listening to Keith Morris as he gave a presentation at Heartbeet. He talked about Permaculture – a holistic concept of ecological design and food growing – and looked closely at human impact on this planet and how we can transform it in positive, constructive ways. He had a wonderful and unique view of things, and we all left the discussion with a new perspective.

Along with the projects, we have had to squeeze in time to prepare for the last stretch of our winter journey. We will spend the last leg of this trip traveling in small groups, without our teachers for guides. Kendra, Anna, Melody and Mistral will be traveling together. Oliver, Paul, and Scott will be traveling as a group. Ari, Eliot, and Yarrow will go together, and Erica and I will be travel companions. Martin, who has had to go home sick, will not be with us and will be greatly missed – we look forward to his recovery and return to our group. This last leg is only five days, but it will be a true test of all of our knowledge and learning so far on the trip. We will be camping under tarps, and using outside fire for all of our cooking. The largest group (four) will be carrying a small tent and a stove. We will all be traveling the same route, though going at different paces, taking care of our own food packing, navigation, expedition planning, and safety. Our instructors Nate and Anne will travel behind us, staying out of range but checking on our campsites and collecting weather-proofed notes we will leave every morning along the trail. When we arrive at NorthWoods, we will rejoin as a group and spend the days preparing our winter base camp.

This past leg has been the most challenging and most fun so far. We were blessed with the joy that Hans and Lisl brought with them as we dared the challenging terrain of the Bolton-Trapp Traverse. We reached our highest elevation of the trip at the summit of the Bolton-Trapp Mountains. We ascended them in one day, and then camped in the thick of the trees, away from the trails of the mountain. The next day we continued to ascend until we reached a summit, then we traversed between the two peaks and arrived at the second peak. From there we could see for miles, looking at all the mountains we had crossed. It was an incredible view, and the wind was strong. We bundled up and were careful not to take off our skis, so as not to fall into the deep snow. We spent the rest of the day descending into Nebraska Valley. Lisl and Hans showed us the joys of extreme cliff skiing while tumbling all over the place. I stood by and watched as they took turns skiing off a huge snow cliff and falling into the thick snow below.

After we bid adieu to Lisl and Hans and thanked them for their wonderful teachings and joyful presence on the trail, Misha returned. Also joining him was Violet, his border collie. When Misha arrived he came in the thick of our illness, a 24-hour virus of unknown origin. I was the first one down. It hit fast. You start by feeling nauseous, and half an hour later, up comes your snack mix. The sickness struck every one of us and it was a difficult experience for us all. Some of us got it early on, while the rest didn’t get it for several days. White rice, lemon tea, and rest nursed us back to health, one by one. It was hard to travel while some of the group was sick to their stomachs, but after a day of rest and recovery we had to continue on. It took a lot of strength and will power to make it through the days.

Once things settled down, we began testing skills we had learned throughout the semester. We had to quickly and efficiently set up the tent, distinguish wet wood from dry wood and softwood from hardwood, sharpen our knives enough to shave hair, orient a map with a compass, identify all the trees we’d learned, and correctly tie the knots we’d been shown. Everyone hurriedly prepared for the testing and spent time reviewing. Everyone passed all the tests and it was a great joy to see how much we have learned.

As the days counted down to Heartbeet, Misha and Nate came to the conclusion that our group should continue on to Heartbeet on our own. We traveled through lush farmland, walking most of the way due to no snow, and met up with Misha and Nate again after we climbed over Mt. Elmore. When we arrived at our rendezvous, Misha treated us to a wide range of locally-made foods from the tiny general store. Four pints of thick ice cream, jugs of apple cider and milk, fruit and pickles, fresh jam, and tons of locally-produced bacon. After we had royally stuffed ourselves and were giddy with laughter, we waddled to our skis and prepared for a long day of travel. The sun was beating down and we pulled out our cotton t-shirts. Traveling together, making our decisions together, learning how to facilitate daily tasks, camp preparations, meals, and group well-being – this has been our greatest test, our test of community.

The days are warming up here and it seems as though spring is right around the corner. The grass is warm and the soil is cool to the touch of my bare feet. The icy brooks are breaking up, and the birds are singing louder than ever. We’ve been watching the geese coming home, making their way north and I hope to see them when we reach our northerly destination. The northwest wind has blown in clear skies and the blue stretches forever across these rolling mountains. I watch the warming sun touch each crest with its fingertips and travel so lightly the trail we ourselves are traveling, the trail of the mountains, the trail of the land, the trail to the wilderness.

Your scribe, Iyla

NHVSP 2010 Update 6

To the Followers of our Wind-Traveling Group,

I write to you all scrubbed raw, wearing slippers, and sitting on the bed in a condominium. The blanket replicates that of hotels, the ones with nineteen-fifties floral patterns. Looking out the window, past the matching floral curtains, I can just see the tops of red maples poking their heads over the back of the condominium development. Red maples’ fingers reach high into the sky, palms embracing the blue. Shifting back and forth with the breeze, they dance side-by-side, unaware of anything else but each other.

We arrived here yesterday afternoon and have been oh-so-busy ever since. We have all of today and half of tomorrow before we set out again. For our last layover, at Farm and Wilderness, we had the same amount of time, but we did community work and had a guest teacher come in. We helped Farm and Wilderness by spending several hours on a mountainside in a sugar grove helping re-line the taps. We worked with an old-time sugarer, Silas. He explained the mechanics of how sap is harvested and the process of making maple syrup. When finished, we returned to our house and continued with gear repairs and our Big Job work. Later that day we were privileged to listen to tales brought by Marry Stewart, an accomplished local storyteller. She came to tell us stories from far away lands and distant cultures. We made our offerings to father fire, and then cuddled up to listen to her captivating tales. Marry brought the gift of stories, an ancient art, to our group, and since then we have been telling each other tales every day.

When I last wrote, we were in Plymouth, and now after only two weeks of travel we’re currently in Warren. Here at the condo, we do not have any guest teachers coming or volunteer work to do, giving us a little time to relax.

These past two weeks have been wonderful with Chris -- we have learned so much from him. Not only has he taught many outdoor skills, he has taught us of the land and its life, of a deep breath in the morning wake of dawn, and the joy of simplicity. We have spent these last two weeks cherishing the wilderness with Chris. It has been such a privilege for all of us to spend this time with him. From the bottom of out hearts Chris, thank you. Your wisdom will stay with each of us for the rest of our lives.

One of the many skills Chris taught us was how to build a lean-to shelter. One morning, we learned how to make a two-person shelter. We each spent the rest of the day building a shelter with a partner. We spent that night in our shelters, without sleeping bags if we chose.

Eliot and Ari built a shelter together. They crossed the beaver flowage we were staying on and made camp along the opposite shore. They built their fire up and spent the night inching away from the roaring flames. Yarrow and Scott built their shelter nestled in a thick grove of evergreens. They spent the night out and returned the next morning covered in soot from head to toe. It took quite a good deal of persuasion by Chris to convince them not to stay out a second night. Melody and Kendra built their shelter close to a running stream. They spent the evening stoking the fire high and returned the next morning completely exhausted and overjoyed by the night. Mistral and Anna, with Anne helping for a little while, built their shelter in the thick of the trees. It was nearly impossible to weave your way through the thicket, but when you finally did, you came across their shelter huddled up against the roots of a great tree overhanging them. They spent their night very warm and returned the next day very content. When it came time to take down the lean-to the next day, they were sad to part with the shelter they’d grown to love so much over the course of the night.

Oliver and Paul built their shelter
close to the shore of the beaver flowage – it featured a very well designed wind protector wall in front. They returned the next day eager to improve and try out new ideas. Erica and I built our shelter in the midst of a thick hemlock forest. We came across a fallen hemlock and built our shelter in the protection of its wide branches. We spent the night huddled around the fire, soaking up any heat it would give, and returned the next morning eager to tell and listen to others’ stories.

When building a shelter, there are many different things to take into account. Choosing the spot is essential. You want to find a spot that’s well sheltered from all directions, especially the direction of the wind. Finding trees to support your shelter is very important – ones that are close together are optimal. If you are building a two-person shelter you’ll need two ridgepoles with rafters coming off one side of each pole, laid at a steep angle. After your rafters are laid, you proceed to cover them with evergreen boughs for wind and snow protection. You start at the bottom and lay them up to the very top, like shingles on a roof. When available, using slabs of bark and rocks are very useful tools. We all learned great techniques and learned just as much from our mistakes.

When you sleep in a shelter without a sleeping bag, fire is the most important part. Having enough firewood is essential, and having different sizes is nice. Your fire should be 1-½ feet away from your body and there should always be a green log between you and the fire for protection. Firewood is not cut to length. You place the well-limbed poles over the fire and keep pulling them in throughout the night as they burn. Building our shelters was absolutely amazing and it was an incredible night we spent out. Together with a partner, we journeyed though the night with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and the shelter we had made ourselves with simple tools.

Along the trail we stopped to meet Larry the Logger, also known as Tweeter. He told us many tales of his logging days and explained his job thoroughly. He told us how he’d maintained the forests all over Vermont. He loves the trees and he has devoted his life to the care of them. Though logging often gets a bad reputation, Larry explained to us how he spent his days thinning the forest and providing proper growth room for the other trees. He talked to us about how technology has changed logging. He started out with an axe and horses and now uses chainsaws and skidders. He was a wonderful person and we learned a great deal about the process of logging. I gained a great deal of respect for loggers after talking to him.

We have been blessed with beautiful weather on our trip. Light flurries have been occasional and only once did we get stuck in a snowstorm. That morning, we awoke to the tent sagging from layers of accumulated snow. The temperature was at that difficult point where it was warm enough to melt the snow into a cold drizzle, but cold enough that you become chilled without layers. We packed our gear in plastic bags to keep out as much moisture as possible, but still our stuff got wet. We quickly threw on our raincoats and pulled our drawstrings tight. The snow had been coming down all night and there was a thick new layer on the trails – well over a foot of heavy snow. We set off with a leader vigorously breaking the trail for us. We had a constantly rotating line. One person would break trail with all their might for a minute, then stop and let the rest of us pass, going to the end of the line. This made it possible to travel quickly and efficiently without anyone getting overly exhausted from breaking trail for too long. As the day proceeded, we became saturated to the bone, and had to keep moving at all times to stay warm. When we arrived at camp that day, our hair was soaking wet, and we looked like we had just crawled out of the river. We hustled to set up the tent quickly, and spent the rest of that night drying out our clothes as much as we could.

Reading the weather has been a daily routine for us. As the clouds change in the sky, we take notice and try to determine the weather of the day. Chris taught us about the wind directions and what the wind brings. For example, when the wind is blowing strong from the northeast, you know you’re in for a storm. Looking at the different cloud types has also given us a better idea about the weather to come. This has helped us predict what our weather will be. On the trail, it’s important to always take notice of the sky and its warnings.

As Chris bid us adieu, Lisl returned to our group. Lisl and Hans Mayer, a semester alum and experienced Kroka guide, will be traveling with us for the next week.  Our next leg is 16 days long, and the leg after that is only a week. Soon we will be arriving at Northwoods, the camp where we will prepare for our spring trip home. Time on the trail wraps us up like the silk of a caterpillar’s cocoon. When we skied out of the woods with our soggy boots, it was hard to imagine it’s been two weeks since our last layover. These woods are timeless, these mountains ageless, and the sky is ever changing.

More and more we have been learning to function as a group without constant support from our teachers. Often we are left to make decisions and travel without the full support of them. We have learned to cooperate well with each other. Often, someone will volunteer to be a leader for the day, taking responsibility for keeping us motivated and moving. This position has helped a great deal with the flow, and has given us the opportunity to make decisions among ourselves without teachers stepping in for everything.

So the sun has set, and I’ll say goodnight. The people around me have drifted into a peaceful slumber. We’ve come so far since the beginning of our journey. So much in us has grown. I feel as though we are only just beginning to feel the wakening inside ourselves. Like the Red Maples, we dance side-by-side with one another reaching our palms to the blue, and receiving the gifts of the earth.