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.

NHVSP 2010 Update 5

Dear Friends and Family,

I write home to you, telling you we have made these woods our home. In the whispering wake of dawn, we skirt effortlessly in the midst of the forest, telling the trees our tale.

Where the wind whispers I find home.

Where the waves collide with land I find safety.

Where the stars burn brightest, my heart aches to be.

Ever slipping through the woodland, like the shadows of the night,

I find my home in a fresh wake, never touched by my eyes before.

The road is my companion and its shifting hills my home.

Ever changing is my home.

Ever growing is my home.

Never shall I return home, always I shall go home.

                       

These past two weeks we traveled towards, over and among the Green Mountains.  We set out by foot from our notch in Marlow and soon descended into the Connecticut River Valley.  On day three we crossed the Connecticut River and began our trip up to the spine of the Green Mountains.  We stayed along snowmobile trails for the most part, slowly gaining the strength and skills to travel farther distances each day.  By day eight we reached the Catamount Trail upon which we will ski most of the way to Canada.  On day nine we turned in our waterlogged boots for our skis, and Chris Knapp switched in for Misha.  We broke camp that day with a fresh load of food, a new smiling face, and our skis wobbling beneath our feet.

 A typical day on the trail consists of Yarrow and the daily cooks rising at five a.m. Yarrow must light the fire early so it’s warm for cooking.  The rest of us wake after five to a cozy warm tent.  We begin packing up our sleeping bags and getting our gear out of the tent and into our packs.  Before breakfast we find ten minutes for quiet contemplation as we watch the day dawn.  Then Anne orchestrates hand-washing and we funnel into the tent for a hot breakfast that feeds us and warms our blood.  Before we put on our ski boots, Melody helps us attend to medical issues like blisters, cuts  bruises.  We then grab our snack bags and enter the whirlwind of nomadic activity.  The stove must be dismantled and the coals emptied into the snow. Once the stove is out of the way, everyone starts untying the tent, folding it up and packing it away. into Scott’s backpack.  Lastly, we spread clumps of boughs around the woods making small burrows for the snowshoe hares.

  We travel for most of the day. In mid- to late afternoon we search for a suitable campsite along a river or beaver marsh.  When looking for a campsite, we take into account shelter from the north, flatness of the site, amount of boughs and firewood in the area, and closeness to water.  Once we locate a good site, we must quickly and efficiently set up camp before nightfall.  We chop poles to hold up the tent, cooks start cooking on an outside fire, firewood is collected and chopped, and the stove is set up.  Yarrow has taught Eliot the careful steps of assembling the stove.  Eliot passed his knowledge on to Anna.  Anna and Eliot have been setting the stove up, and will soon be ready to teach others. Once the tent is up, people begin laying down fir and spruce boughs on the snow inside. From outside you can hear laughter and merry singing as people lay a thick layer of branches to keep us warm that night.  After everything is prepared, we pull off our wet socks and envelope our sore feet in warm mukluks.  We bring our wet boots and socks inside for drying. We lay out the sleeping pads and are finally able to sit down for dinner. Our bowls are filled with a hot meal and seconds are always cherished.  When everyone has eaten, we have an evening discussion and divide up chores for the following day. Below is a typical night in the tent, as described by Anne:

“Ari is vigorously licking our serving soup spoon which is caked in cheddar from our white potato and sweet potato butter soup.  Elliot is singing a Tom Lehrer song to himself with his headlamp illuminating his nose.  Erica and Martin are sorting biscuits into bags, Paul is washing spoons, and Yarrow is passed out at my side, mukluks crossed, head almost out the tent.”

When we finally crawl into our sleeping bags, we can hardly imagine something more wonderful than sleep, and our heads are filled with the wonders the woods brought us that day. We stoke the fire one last time.  We sit in our bags and listen as Chris reads us The Education of Little Tree.  Then our heads hit the boughs and we are out like lights.

Occasionally we have a “liveover day” when we set up a camp and stay there the whole next day.  This gives us time to wash our clothes, sharpen tools, and catch up on journaling assignments.  Kendra helps with sewing advice and Oliver assists with gear repairs.

 

On days when we set an early camp, we have time for learning.  Chris has started teaching us ways of identifying trees and about the many uses they have.  We now fill our cuts with fir pitch, which prevents infection and helps speed the healing process. We also enjoy spruce, hemlock, and yellow birch tea frequently. “Everyone has learned to appreciate the wonders of spruce gum, and a few of us are keeping careful eyes open for more.  It is amazing stuff to chew on for long periods of time” (Oliver).  We learned to quickly and efficiently start a fire in the snow with the resources at hand.  One day we all set out for an hour-long solo.  We lit our own fires and kept them going while we roasted bread on a stick. “I never thought that flour, butter, and salt could taste so good,” said Martin, after eating his warm bread from the fire. We have also learned to travel safely on ice using our eyes, ears, and a stout stick to evaluate its strength. 

After the rigors of trail life, we were all ready for this layover at Farm and Wilderness.  As I sit here and write, the people around me are hurriedly repairing gear and organizing their big job work. Mistral is in the kitchen whipping up gourmet treats. We spent the night filling our bellies with apple roasted pork, cabbage salad, fluffy biscuits with salty butter melting in streams between their pores, roasted squash and potatoes seasoned with thyme, and thick chocolate cake with caramel layers and apricot frosting, generously brought by Martin’s parents.  Martin has been editing and uploading all the photos he’s taken along our journey.  Scott and Ari are planning the second leg of our journey.  Anna is organizing our stay here and repairing our tents, and Erica is beginning to get the food for our second leg in order. 

 

 So we’ve made it this far.  Our hope has only grown stronger as has our will. Who knows what drives the fire in each of us on this journey?  But together the power comes from each other.  As one, the miles seem less, the mountains not as steep, and the river not so wide when we realize there is, and always will be a strong hand there. “After a long day of travel, we’re home together.” (Melody)

Yours truly,

Iyla Theresa

Martin 

NHVSP 2010 Update 4

February 2, NHVSP 2010 departs from Kroka's base camp, 300 miles lie ahead of them

To the readers of far away lands,

Before the morning light can waken us with its shine, we shall set foot to the road. When his rays finally reach for us, father sun will find nothing but shadows -- we’ll have slipped to the northbound woodland to slide into the rhythm of our journey. Piece by piece we’ve laid the stones of our expedition’s foundation, and now, as I write, we’ve laid the last stone. We’ve departed.

It was a stressful week finishing up the last of our preparations. We spent every spare moment catching up on projects. On Monday we piled into the van for a trip to the local Nelson Contra dance. This weekly contra dance is filled with townsfolk enjoying a night out. We enjoyed ourselves immensely and came home dizzy from swirling, brightly colored dresses still filling our eyes. Laughter illuminated our dwellings into the wee hours of the night, until finally the coals burned down and we laid our heads down, side-by-side, smile-by-smile.

Erica, Melody and Iyla

We put the finishing touches on our mukluks and gators. Kendra helped out a great deal, staying up late into the night to show us, stitch by stitch, the correct way to sew. We each had to finish our big job preparation and still, there was much more to do.

Sheets of rain fell this week, rushing down the stream like a swarm of angry bees. Our camp was flooded, and everyone could be seen from miles away in their bright orange rain gear, each of us looking like lobstermen lost at sea. The day after the rainstorm, some brave souls dived into the icy river. The current briskly ushered them along and it wasn’t until they were swept to the bridge that they could pull their shivering bodies out of the chilly water. As their bodies met the air, you could watch the steam curl ripplets into the biting air. Their skin tingled in the fresh breath of the morning.


On Wednesday we prepared and packed all of our food. We spent the entire day organizing our meals for each leg of the journey. Erica had worked hard organizing everything, and with her careful guidance we soon had our food bagged and ready for departure. It was a long day, but we filled the food room with our joyous voices, humming and whistling, eager to pack hearty meals for the trail.

When Friday rolled around we organized our personal gear. We brought our wooden boxes into the Big Yurt and separated our expedition gear from our layover gear. We put all of our spring gear in separate boxes which gave us a better idea of what we needed to give back to parents. On Friday night we watched the Wolf Moon raise its head over the mountaintops, streaking the sky with its golden light. I looked up at the moon and stared into its lolling light with unblinking eyes, dazed by its perfection. I felt alive with the wind. There was a stir in the air that swept the land with a changing breath.

On Saturday our parents came to visit and our spirits seemed to lift higher than the sky. Laughter filled every corner of the dwellings and food came in abundance beyond our stomachs’ capacities. We all rejoiced with our families and the opportunity to meet and mingle with each other’s families. Chocolate came in armfuls and we stuffed ourselves as if it were Thanksgiving. We were all so thankful to be with our families in the warmth of the fire, preparing to embark on a journey with those we hold close to our hearts.

Eliot and Ari entertaining parents

We spent the last day packing and cleaning. It was quite a chore but we organized everything for our return in the summer. We finished projects, loaded gear into the trailer and put Brita, our horse, to work pulling logs for our work when we return.

So the days whittled down to hours, the sun continued to tick-tock across the sky, and we carried on methodically with nothing but our goals in sight -- preparing for the unknown with many new skills and hope to carry us onward.

"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset." (Crowfoot)

Yours truly,


Iyla Therese

NHVSP 2010 Update 3

To our far away readers,

I write to you as the sheets of rain play melodies on the slate roof of my dwelling. I listen closely and hear the ballad unfold, its tempo ever changing with the wind. Soon the wind joins in with its sorrow-filled howl, and it’s not long before the trees are swaying to the music of the rainstorm. So I sit here, in my wool sweater, with my feet tucked under the stove, and I unfold to you the beginning of our journey.

This week we filled the days with sewing our anoraks. We spent four days following careful steps and now we all look sharp in our forest-green uniforms. Thick fur wraps around the hoods of some, rich acorn-brown trim around others. Each of us took the time to make our coat unique. Jane was an amazing help, and never lost hope in us. She was there for every stitch, and we now have beautiful anoraks thanks to her.


While half the group sewed, the other half grabbed their axes and piled into the van for a full day of logging. We needed to cut spruce saplings to build a new lodge next spring. We drove to a grove of young spruces and were soon busy chopping. We took the time to carefully select the right kind of tree, making sure that we were only cutting down the ones that weren’t getting enough sunlight, or trees that were blocking the sunlight of younger ones growing around it. As the day ended and we prepared to leave, we clasped each other’s hands, bowed our heads, and raised our voices in a song of thanks to the forest.

One night as we finished our meal, Lisl announced that we would be taking a trip to the bakery to watch Noah show us the art of crafting loaves of delicious bread. Half of the group went, and the other half stayed behind to finish projects. It was a late night and everyone crowded in to watch Noah. The bakery was warm and cozy and you could smell the dough as it rose and simmered in the oven. Noah stayed up late telling stories as we circled around him. Back at Kroka everyone had piled into the Big Yurt and made a huge nest of sleeping bags. Soon we were all laughing and rolling around on the floor.

When we finally finished our anoraks and logging, we met Misha for a long cross-country ski across marshlands. We spent the day trekking through the marsh and trying not to break through the ice. We spent the day examining tracks, skiing off huge rocks, and laughing at the simplicities of life. Many of us filled our back packs with as much as we could muster to experience what it would soon feel like on the trail. The ski filled up the whole day. We returned to base camp to relax and wash up.




On Saturday, the tenth grade from The Lake Champlain School came to visit. We helped them set up camp and then played games and shared stories with them. They spent the night in Palugo, and we girls piled into the lodge with our semester boys. Once the tenth grade left, we settled back into our regular routines. Now that our group is more acquainted, we have started a nightly long share. One member of the group gets as much time as she or he needs to talk about her/his life up until now. We have learned so much more about each other from these and I eagerly await the rest of the group’s sharing.



On Sunday we skied with Noah to his bakery. We skied on snowmobile trails and got a better idea of how our trip may feel. When we reached Noah’s we had a filling meal of his bread and then helped him make picnic tables. Once we had completed the tables, the boys and girls took turns in the sauna. We relaxed until we couldn’t take the heat anymore, then chopped a hole in the ice and jumped in the pond.





Life has continued on busy as ever and just as wonderful. We have learned an abundance of skills already and we still have much more to learn. Pack out day is approaching and there is still so much to be done. Our relaxed moments seem to be shortening as does the time to our departure. All of us are looking forward to getting on the trail and it seems like the days aren’t rushing by nearly fast enough. The open road awaits us, destination Northwoods, departure one week. “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” -Robert Frost

Yours Truly,


Iyla MacArthur, Semester Scribe


Below is a poem written by Kendra about her knife.


My own two hands

(With the assistance of

Blacksmiths and micro planes)

Made you rough and smooth

I found your curves in a dream…

(Buried in fungus,

Drowning in doubt)

And in that small, forgettable space

You were conceived

Made of wood and undeniable

LOVE

With my own two hands…

Wrapped in leather and filled with beautiful sorts of things…

…Resting (as if a child) on my hip

Here is life made with my own

Two hands.

NHVSP 2010 Update 2

To our far away readers,

I write to tell you we do more than survive here --  we flourish. Tucked away in the nooks of the mountains, we do not witness life -- we live it.  Untouched by the dust of society’s mistakes, we look at the land with a clear eye.  As we grasp each other’s hands and raise our voices in unison, we bow our heads in thanks to the gifts the earth has given us.

The snow here comes in thick layers, frosting the ground in a creamy blanket.  It falls from the sky in the numbers of a child’s wishes, putting the grass to sleep.  We awoke this morning to a new layer, and were soon put to work.  By 6:15am we all were shoveling roofs, snowshoeing paths, sweeping the solar panels, and packing down trails.  After our early start, we jumped right back into our regular chores.

 

With all the work we do throughout the day, mealtime is no small dish.  Piling around steaming pots and pans, we eagerly hold out our bowls for the long anticipated serving -- thick soup filled with carrots and potatoes, seasoned with rosemary and thyme, and an abundance of creamy kasha with melted cheese and garlic.  We are so lucky to always have a hot meal in our bowls.  We never have to think twice about tomorrow’s meal because we know it will always be there.  Here we take the time to remember this.

Counting down the days till we set out feels like we’ll never have enough time to finish our preparation.  Project after project is presented to us, and very rarely do we find ourselves with a moment to rest.  Everyone is busy finishing their knives and sewing the leather sheaths for them.  We all must wax our ski boots four times to cover them completely to get a thorough waterproofing.  We must also wax our skis a few times so that they get maximum glide in the snow.  Among all of these projects we must find time to write all of our academic assignments.  Each of us has been assigned a book about an expedition and we will all be reading them and presenting them to the group.  Our schedules are filled with hub bustle, and every time we prepare to check a project off the list, we are given another.  As the last of us finished stitching up our mitten shells, we dived into the next sewing project.  Jane Barron has come from Maine to teach us to sew our anoraks.  We started today and soon we were on our way to making the front pocket with a zipper.  For the next four days we will be piecing together the very coat that will travel with us the whole way, sheltering us from wind and snow.  The feeling we will achieve from making these ourselves, with our own hands, will be one of great accomplishment.

Amongst all these projects here at Kroka, we are still spending time to learn from many different teachers on many different subjects.  This week, Dick Boisvert, an archaeologist, came and gave a presentation about his work in New Hampshire.  He spoke of the cultural/temporal periods and how to identity which period an artifact came from. There are four periods.  The Paleo-Indian, the Archaic, the Woodland, and the Historic. He has found remains from each period.  Stone is the most common type of artifact you’ll find because it lasts longer then any other material. He spoke to us for a while and answered all our questions.  He also runs a program for students 16 and older to help him in his line of work, and offered any of us a position.  We were lucky to have him.

We also took a field trip to the home of an old-time Marlow citizen named Charlie Strickland.  He told us all about the history of Marlow, and how much it has changed over the course of his lifetime.  Charlie spoke of the time when gas was 20 cents a gallon, and when the forest fire of 1941 burnt over half of the town of Marlow and heavily damaged surrounding towns.  It was fascinating to view history from the vantage point of someone who had lived through the decades and whose memory served him so well.  No textbook could ever provide the historical details he bestowed on us.

Standing from left to right: Yarrow, Noah, Iyla, Scott, Eliot, Ari, Erica, Paul, Martin, Mistral, Oliver; front: Charlie, Melody and Anne. Missing: Anna and Kendra.

Life here continues on with the swiftness of the wind and its lonesome whistle. Each morning we are greeted with peeking tips of father Sun and his radiating warmth, and every night I look up at the stars, with their flickering drops of dew light, reflecting back at me a dream far bigger than this world. As I look up with hope, I know “every little things gonna be alright.”  Bob Marley

Devotedly Yours,

                   Iyla Therese

Kendra would like to wish Anna a happy birthday.