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Back in Minneapolis for the second time already this summer. We're put up in the lovely Richfield Inn, formerly the Hampton Inn, and will be returning to Bemidji tomorrow with the rest of the staff.
Thunderbird is just how I remember it...and better. The people, the place, and the bar all have the same intangible magic that made me love T-Bird last year. And, yes I called it magic. As cliched as that is there is no other way to explain this place.
I saw a quote today. Something along the lines of "Life is a book, and those who do not travel only read a page." Everyone at TBird travels to a certain extent, and among them the Trip Leaders travel the most, both during camp and during the winter. The general sentiment among the trip leaders is that being in camp is fun, but there is nothing that compares to being on trip and being the in backcountry. There are far too many people in this country who have the means, but not the motivation to experience the wilderness. This makes a part of me a little upset, but a larger part of me is happy that they stay away from the backcountry.
Danger Zone
"No knives, no lighters, no matches, no forks. For the rest of the trip you are banned from anything not soft and rounded." These, or something like them were my words to our camper who officially became known as Danger Zone on our final day in the backcountry. Although it was only on this final day, after weeks out on trip that the name became official, Danger Zone had been earning it since the first day of our very first backcountry trip.
"Driver...Kolus...he broke his leg or something!" I could not believe what I was hearing. We had literally been in the backcountry for 6 hours at most, and I was already faced with a nightmare scenario. Of course, arriving at the scene of the injuring, we quickly assessed the situation and realized that the 7in long and on average 1/4in deep gash on the back of Danger Zone's leg was far from a fracture of any kind. The mechanism of injury? A sharply broken branch sticking off of a downed tree that was being used as leverage in an attempt to break firewood. This was something we could handle. Apply some pressure, clean the site, apply bandages...no problem. Of course, after day three of repeating this process twice a day it was slightly annoying. Thus, I will admit, there was a certain amount of guilty pleasure that came from announcing that "this should not hurt at all" before grazing over the open wound with an alcohol swab..."oops, just kidding. I meant this is probably going to hurt."
When we returned to town after the final day of that trip we took Danger Zone to the local ER, just to be on the safe side. There his wound was looked over by an EMT who could not have been older than 14, and we were told that it looked fine. A doctor gave Danger Zone some painkillers just in case...which I threw away on our way out...and on we went...in search of another way for Danger Zone to hurt himself.
It was only a few days later that Danger Zone, looking out for the safety of his peers, suffered his second self-inflicted wound. Noticing a camp stove perched precariously on the edge of a picnic table, Danger Zone suggested that they turn it off and move it to a more stable location. The flame goes out, Danger Zone reached for the stove...and grabs the top...the burner. To his surprise, the metal coils that moments ago had been engulfed by a small blue flame, were still hot. The result: a world class blister that required popping and dressing twice a day.
"You know what? This trip went pretty damn smoothly." What a stupid thing to say. I sat next to my c0-worker on a bench, looking out on a peaceful mountain lake. This was the final day, of our final backcountry trip. Unfortunately, neither of us had the foresight to knock on wood, and moments later we were jolted by a commotion in the woods to our right. Coming toward where we were seated were several of the campers, and behind them in the woods was what appeared to be a large ball of fire...and what turned out to be a flaming bear box. Apparently, one of the fuel bottles had leaked inside the bear box. While deciding how to handle the situation, instead of simply asking for help, one brilliant 15 year old made the joking suggestion that Danger Zone light the leaked gas on fire. Danger Zone, thinking himself clever, decided to scare the others by flicking his lighter near the fuel. The lighter was itself out of fuel and thus Danger Zone correctly assumed that it would admit no flame. What did happen as his thumb flicked the small wheel on top, was that a tiny spark jump from his lighter to the white gas cover the interior of the bear box. The result was that the highly flammable gas almost instantly engulfed the metal box.
The flame itself went out relatively quickly after the fueled was burned off. What was left in the box were a serious of heavily burned garbage and food containers, and the melted and charred skeleton of my day pack. In the aftermath, the name Danger Zone became more than official, and eventually my day pack was replaced...by a much nicer REI model...
"Driver...Kolus...he broke his leg or something!" I could not believe what I was hearing. We had literally been in the backcountry for 6 hours at most, and I was already faced with a nightmare scenario. Of course, arriving at the scene of the injuring, we quickly assessed the situation and realized that the 7in long and on average 1/4in deep gash on the back of Danger Zone's leg was far from a fracture of any kind. The mechanism of injury? A sharply broken branch sticking off of a downed tree that was being used as leverage in an attempt to break firewood. This was something we could handle. Apply some pressure, clean the site, apply bandages...no problem. Of course, after day three of repeating this process twice a day it was slightly annoying. Thus, I will admit, there was a certain amount of guilty pleasure that came from announcing that "this should not hurt at all" before grazing over the open wound with an alcohol swab..."oops, just kidding. I meant this is probably going to hurt."
When we returned to town after the final day of that trip we took Danger Zone to the local ER, just to be on the safe side. There his wound was looked over by an EMT who could not have been older than 14, and we were told that it looked fine. A doctor gave Danger Zone some painkillers just in case...which I threw away on our way out...and on we went...in search of another way for Danger Zone to hurt himself.
It was only a few days later that Danger Zone, looking out for the safety of his peers, suffered his second self-inflicted wound. Noticing a camp stove perched precariously on the edge of a picnic table, Danger Zone suggested that they turn it off and move it to a more stable location. The flame goes out, Danger Zone reached for the stove...and grabs the top...the burner. To his surprise, the metal coils that moments ago had been engulfed by a small blue flame, were still hot. The result: a world class blister that required popping and dressing twice a day.
"You know what? This trip went pretty damn smoothly." What a stupid thing to say. I sat next to my c0-worker on a bench, looking out on a peaceful mountain lake. This was the final day, of our final backcountry trip. Unfortunately, neither of us had the foresight to knock on wood, and moments later we were jolted by a commotion in the woods to our right. Coming toward where we were seated were several of the campers, and behind them in the woods was what appeared to be a large ball of fire...and what turned out to be a flaming bear box. Apparently, one of the fuel bottles had leaked inside the bear box. While deciding how to handle the situation, instead of simply asking for help, one brilliant 15 year old made the joking suggestion that Danger Zone light the leaked gas on fire. Danger Zone, thinking himself clever, decided to scare the others by flicking his lighter near the fuel. The lighter was itself out of fuel and thus Danger Zone correctly assumed that it would admit no flame. What did happen as his thumb flicked the small wheel on top, was that a tiny spark jump from his lighter to the white gas cover the interior of the bear box. The result was that the highly flammable gas almost instantly engulfed the metal box.
The flame itself went out relatively quickly after the fueled was burned off. What was left in the box were a serious of heavily burned garbage and food containers, and the melted and charred skeleton of my day pack. In the aftermath, the name Danger Zone became more than official, and eventually my day pack was replaced...by a much nicer REI model...
Summer '07 in Brief part 2
Jackson, WY-three days of climbing in the Tetons
-several campers crank out a 15oft three pitch climb on our last day
-running lights, blinkers, and jack all break on our trailer
-take trailer to get serviced and find out that the axle is broken...
Jackson, WY to Boise, ID
-cram all our gear into the two vans and head for Boise
-stop in Idaho Falls to pick up the new trailer
-almost die at the hands of a low flying crop duster
Boise, ID
-crash the Shaine residence, turn the back yard in a refugee camp
-apparently the house still smells like the combined odor of 19 fifteen year olds-Kate and Matt are introduced to the good and the bad of my co-workers
Eagle Cap Wilderness, OR (8 days backcountry)
-8 day trail service project in the Eagle Cap Wilderness of the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest
-incredible region, very diverse climates in a small area
-one group evacs the backcountry early due to a camper/toilet paper/ear incident
-leave the backcountry one day early due to forest fires
Into the Canadia!
-on average the Canadian rockies are less tall than their American counterparts, but they are much more impressive...more glaciers, lower tree line...and fewer Americans around
Kananaskis, AB (3 days backcountry)
-Kananaskis Wilderness is in the heart of Peter Lougheed Provincial Park
-spend two nights at the same camping area
-day hike up to Haig Glacier where the Canadian Olympic Nordic team and many other train
Mt. Robson, BC (5 days backcountry)
-Mt. Robson is the tallest of the Canadian Rockies at 12,972ft tall
-5 days trip around the base of the mountain
-included a day hike to Robson Glacier, a swim in Berg Lake, and trip to Emperor Falls
Long Drive Back to Bemidji!
Summer '07 in Brief part 1
Depart Bemidji, MN on June 23rd headed for the Badlands of South Dakota-arrive at Badlands sometime on the 24th, also make a brief stop at Waldrug reenact famous photo from childhood-->
Badlands to Lander, WY
-camp out in Lander City park, get harassed by townies
The Wind River Range (5 days backcountry)
-spend three days camped out on Upper Silas Lake
-camper...we shall call him Danger Zone, manages to put a nice 7in long gash on the back of his leg
-two day hikes, see pictures
Return to Lander, WY
-tents attack by townies while we are in them...police officer suggests that one of us stay up all night to watch the camp...I mentally tell the officer to blow it out his ass...
Lander, WY to Jackson, WY
-beat it out of Lander after receiving some free tent repair assistance from the NOLS headquarters in town
Jackson, WY
-spend the night at a campers vacation home in Jackson, photo is view from the living room
-5 nights in Jackson, including 3 days of climbing in the Tetons
...to be continued
Cowboy Orchestra explained
So, after several requests to collect the stories of the summer of 2007 in one place I have finally caved. I'm going to do my best to retell the adventures and misadventures of my '07 expedition and will from time to time post updates as my 2008 journey gets under way.
Cowboy Orchestra: In 40 days last summer we logged nearly 5,000 miles in two rented 15-passenger vans. We traveled through seven states and three Canadian provinces, and did not get pulled over once. Three days into the trip we decided that our behemoth vehicles could no longer simply be the white and the gray vans. A magazine belonging to one of our campers, containing a fold out photo spread of "Burt Reynolds," saw the christening of the gray van as Burt Reynolds. And, after a stop at the famed Waldrug of South Dakota, the gray van was named in honor of an animatronic (not sure on the spelling there) band and became "Cowboy Orchestra featuring the Chuck Wagon." The name was more than fitting as the white van was also hauling a beastly white trailer. Eventually, after the death of our original trailer, the name would evolve to "Cowboy Orchestra featuring the Corn Palace formerly known as the Chuck Wagon."
Cowboy Orchestra: In 40 days last summer we logged nearly 5,000 miles in two rented 15-passenger vans. We traveled through seven states and three Canadian provinces, and did not get pulled over once. Three days into the trip we decided that our behemoth vehicles could no longer simply be the white and the gray vans. A magazine belonging to one of our campers, containing a fold out photo spread of "Burt Reynolds," saw the christening of the gray van as Burt Reynolds. And, after a stop at the famed Waldrug of South Dakota, the gray van was named in honor of an animatronic (not sure on the spelling there) band and became "Cowboy Orchestra featuring the Chuck Wagon." The name was more than fitting as the white van was also hauling a beastly white trailer. Eventually, after the death of our original trailer, the name would evolve to "Cowboy Orchestra featuring the Corn Palace formerly known as the Chuck Wagon."
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