AmeriCorps: Week One

In the space of this past week, there have been many little adventures. The first week as an AmeriCorps member is now complete and I feel as though my head just might explode from the wealth of information I keep cramming into it. I mean this in the best way possible. It’s a good kind of explosion, if you can have a good one. I think everything will be less overwhelming once we get into the field.

The job so far has been great! I’ve never served with AmeriCorps before, but I imagine our project is different than most depending on the AmeriCorps program one is a part of. I alluded to the type of work I might be doing this summer, but now I’ve got a little bit of a better hold on it. 

Arrowleaf Balsamroot

So here’s what I know: The project I will be helping with is based out of the Research Associates Branch of the Great Basin Institute (GBI) working in collaboration with the Nevada Division of Wildlife (NDOW) to gather baseline vegetation and habitat data for the Greater Sage Grouse across Nevada. So what that means for me is identifying A LOT of plants, mostly consisting of a few different types of Sagebrush, Pinyon Pine, Utah Juniper and various types of grasses, forbs and wildflowers. Hopefully what this data will provide are varying locations that might be considered suitable habitat for Greater Sage Grouse.

In the past few days, I’ve been inundating my brain with plants, plants, and more plants! I think I’m beginning to get to know some them now, at least the common names and a few Latin names. I’m getting there. By the end of the summer, I’ll have them down pat! 

Though the job is focused mainly on vegetation, there have also been other pertinent training modules, such as field skills. It may seem like a bit of a no brainer since the blanket skills are the same, but it was still necessary, taking into account that none of us crew members were familiar with living and working in the field in Nevada. I was very appreciative of knowing what kinds of critters I might encounter (snakes and scorpions, especially!) in addition to the wide fluctuations in temperatures throughout the day—I may be purchasing a warmer sleeping bag after the first spike, we’ll see how cold I get!

It was also great to become more familiar with off-road driving. I’ve done it a little, but not on a mountain-side or in a huge truck. I was stopped by the Nevada police just yesterday while doing my training because they saw us coming back over the hill and thought we might be dumping hazardous materials or chemicals on the other side. It seems to be a common activity as well as using old TVs for target practice….

In between plants and getting grilled by the police, we’ve also been getting out to do some hiking for conditioning purposes as well as to help acclimate to the change in elevation and ID a few plants. A few of us on the crew (myself included) were branded ‘lowlanders’ much to the amusement of the some of the GBI staff. My ears have finally stopped popping with every slight change in elevation. Great strides, I tell you! The few hikes we’ve done have also been very good as far as I’m concerned, lowlander or not. They were enough to let me know I’ve got some work to do this summer! Not only that, but they afforded some of the most spectacular panoramic views I’ve seen, much to my continual amazement.

My crew members and I were fairly successful this past weekend. We’ve moved on from Harrah’s (they just couldn’t handle us anymore!) and found a decent apartment, still fairly close to downtown. The amusing catch to the apartment we found was that we didn’t have electricity for a few days (we do now, though). We stocked up on some candles and had a grand ole time hanging around the candle on the floor of the apartment playing cards the first few nights. We’ve nicknamed the apartment “The Space” since it no longer looks quite like we’re squatting.  

When we weren’t laughing at our rustic existence, we took advantage of other cultural opportunities and checked out a Turkish Festival going on downtown, with good music and amazing food to sample. I don’t think I’ve ever had baklava as tasty as I did this weekend! 

Was anyone able to see the eclipse?! I’ve never had the opportunity to view one, but was able to this past Saturday. There was a gentleman nice enough to lend me his ‘glasses’ to see it. I wish I’d been able to take some photos!

Mount Rose

I know I mentioned it before, but I will again. I am really enjoying Nevada so far; so much more than I originally thought I would, so this came as pleasant surprise. It’s so different from any place I’ve ever had the opportunity to visit and explore (or rather on par with Iceland)! Sometimes I’m reminded of Montana, with respect to the mountains.

 [Random tidbit: Nevada has 314 mountain ranges—314! That’s crazy!]

 Ah, mountains! It’s so great to look out and see snow-capped Mt. Rose in the distance and then knowing that Lake Tahoe is just on the other side of it. It’s somewhat difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that even though Reno is quite an urban place, there are so many great outdoor opportunities within easy reach. I’m hoping to take advantage of some of them as much as I’m able, especially now without the aid of a car. I’ll find a way…

So, while I figure out just how I might do so, I’ll reap the benefits of being in the field.

Greetings from Nevada!!

I made it…finally!!  After an eventful (and worrisome) ride out west, I finally made it.  I’ve taken many a road trip in my little car (Indiana, Canada, and numerous trips back and forth between MN to WI), and with this trip I expected things to go along just as smoothly. However, the one lesson I’ve learned from this road trip is not to underestimate the possibility of planning for unexpected events to happen. 

Mo mere and I set out as planned on Sunday morning and made it all the way to Cheyenne, WY the first night, no problems. All through Minnesota, Iowa, and Nebraska there were cows, hitch hikers, more cows, lots of fishing holes, and lots of rosaries on the review mirrors of people’s cars. I joked about the rosaries at the time, but about half way through the road trip I wished we’d have had one on mirror or the card of St. Christopher. Come the next morning, we set off again, no problems. Or so we thought…

We didn’t get much more than 100 miles from Cheyenne before the temperature gauge on the car’s dashboard shot above the red zone. I looked behind me a short while later to see steam or smoke (we couldn’t tell which at the time!) started billowing out of the hood of the car. I pulled over and the two of us scrambled to get everything out of the car in case it was smoke. 

We were in the middle of nowhere, on the side of the road, with a steaming/smoking car. And what to do? 

All too often I take for granted that we are fortunate to live in such a connected world. I often spout off how I wish I could chuck my phone into a lake or a river or that living in a cabin in the middle of woods is where I want to be. While both of these are true, I also enjoy the fact there is some measure of connection. Even before we made a call on the cell phone, someone else passing by on the freeway (probably a trucker) called into dispatch and not more than ten minutes later a state trooper was pulling over to assist us.

About an hour later a tow truck was on its way and carried us to Rawlins, WY where we spent the next 24 hours. The radiator in the car fully needed to be replaced and there was the possibility of even more problems, but those couldn’t have been detected without the radiator being fixed. At the time, it felt as though the end of the world (or something close to it) was near. No transportation and ‘stranded’ for lack of a better word. First-world problem. 

It definitely was not the end of the world as it turns out. While we were impatient at the time because of the time crunch and for not having control of the situation, there was absolutely nothing we could have done to make the problem resolve itself any faster. And resolve itself it did…though not after making a large dent on funds. 

We were soon on our way again. 

Utah was beautiful to drive through. I’ve never explored the state but if I can swing it, I’d love to see more of it. As we drove by the Great Salt Lake it reminded me of the Aegean Sea. It was between a medium blue tinged with a light green. Driving by, I also saw lots of Black-Necked Stilts, a really neat shore bird with long and thin red legs found near open shallow water. They were some of my favorites from working at the zoo last summer. The salt flats were also quite a sight, at least for someone so accustomed to lush, green landscapes. After Salt Lake, the flats stretched for almost 70 miles!

Nevada is also beautiful, a lot more so than I originally thought it would be. We drove across northern Nevada, where most of the work I’ll be doing this summer will be located. A lot of Sagebrush. Of course there is much more than Sagebrush, but from the car window that was the most of what I could see.

Likewise, Reno is also a beautiful city, vibrant and glittering with all the lights from the casinos at night, views of snow-capped mountains to the south and the Truckee River flowing right through the heart of the city. There will much to do and take advantage of while here for the summer—recreation, food, and culture-wise J I’m still looking out across the valley trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I’m back in the mountains! 

My fellow technicians and I are currently taking part in the ‘culture’ aspect by staying on the 20^th floor of the Harrah hotel and casino. The Harrah is almost like its own self-sufficient little city with all the amenities you’d ever need inside the larger city. It’s not quite our style, but the views are amazing. The three of us are going a little stir-crazy being in the city, but tomorrow will be our first hike in the mountains to help condition and get acclimated to the higher elevation. There are two lowlanders (myself included) on this crew! I’ve already had a bloody nose, which is always attractive! No more since though!

There will be more to come. For now, sleep is beckoning even in this 24-hour city.

Preparation for the Great Migration

I had a bit of an “Oh $#%T” moment when I got back to Point last night (and am still continuing to have it, mind you!) after bringing home a bunch of stuff to keep there over the summer. 

I’m still finding it a little overwhelming and hard to believe that in a less than I week, I am going to be westward bound, hot on the trail to Nevada. It is one of those surreal moments where you think this can’t be quite right. However this opportunity found its way to me, I’m glad of it. I am beyond excited, albeit it’s a quiet excitement, at least on the outside. 

On the inside, well now, that’s a different story. I’m flipping out!  So much to do, so much to organize, who are these people I’m going to be living with for the next three months, will I be the odd person out, are we going to mesh together ok…???? And still so many people left to make last minute visits to. 

OK, just breathe…I really shouldn’t be this wigged out. I’ve gone numerous new places for an extended amount of time without incident. Why is this any different? Can’t really explain that one.

I’m trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to stay focused for the remainder of the week. I’m taking all of my final exams early in order to get out to Nevada on time, so it is major crunch time! Then what’s she doing here…? I know, I know…There are simply too many thoughts swirling in mind that I’ve got to get them out. 

I just spent the last two and a half hours finishing up my last paper for my outdoor writing class, so I needed a little breather…I’m rather proud of this paper too. This time I wrote a natural history article about the preservation of the Quetico-Superior Wilderness in northern Minnesota and along the Canadian border. I very loosely covered its geology, wildlife, unique distinction as a transition zone between boreal and hardwood forests, and the human elements, of course, including Ojibwe settlement, the fur trade, white pine logging, and iron ore mining. This is all culminated in the “crusade for conservation” of natural resources of the region and ultimately its preservation as a designated wilderness. Pretty neat stuff!

It seems I’m still channeling Sigurd Olson. I can live with that.

When I’m not channeling Sigurd Olson, I’ve been nose deep in everything else, frantically trying to finish up a few assignments, study for exams, pack up the rest of my room and coordinate housing with my fellow technicians. Still haven’t got that last one figured out yet. Working on it though! 

I also managed to snag time with a few friends I haven’t seen in a while, play with two of the most awesome toddlers at our end of the year barbecue (my arms and neck are still feeling that one!), and do some good old-fashioned manual labor turning my grandma’s compost, in the rain (still feeling this one too!) All of these things added up to be great therapy just to let go of all the little things, if only for a little while. 

Having these moments keep me grounded, and for that, I couldn’t be more grateful.

Profile of Sigurd Olson

So here it is: the long awaited profile I wrote of Sigurd Olson. Mind you, it is not the most riveting piece of writing, although I did enjoy writing it. I stand by my recommendation last time of encouraging anyone to read some of his work if they haven’t. If you’ve never had the opportunity to experience the North woods, after reading an essay or two of Olson’s, I can almost guarantee you’ll want to! Enjoy!

Of Time and Place: A Profile of Sigurd F. Olson (1899-1982)

Sigurd Olson

“Simplicity in all things is the secret of the wilderness and one of its most valuable lessons.”—Sigurd Olson

               Simple joys. A way of life. A corridor into the past. A hope for the future. This is what Sigurd Olson sees as he sits on an outcrop of Pre-Cambrian greenstone jutting out from Listening Point, overlooking the south end of Burntside Lake at the border of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. He peers thoughtfully at the glassy surface of the water with one knee pulled up and an arm resting on it, a pipe casually held in his hand. 

               Olson spent the better part of sixty years conveying the importance of wilderness preservation. Nature and the wilderness were never far from his mind or his reach. Hunting, fishing and trapping were regular activities of his childhood in northern Wisconsin and later, teaching, guiding, reflecting and writing at the edge of what became the Boundary Waters Canoe Area became the norm. It was through his quiet wisdom and intimate relationship with the natural world that Olson arguably became one of the most influential and active conservationists and nature writers of the twentieth century.

               The middle of three sons, Sigurd Ferdinand Olson was born in Chicago, Illinois in April of 1899 to Lawrence J. Olson, a Swedish Baptist minister, and Ida May Cederholm. When Sigurd was seven years old, the family moved to Sister Bay on the Door County peninsula where his father’s job was to modernize the practice of the Baptist faith by introducing English language services to the congregation. From there, the Olson family moved to the small logging village of Prentice, Wisconsin before finally settling in Ashland on the shores of Chequamegon Bay. 

Sigurd’s passion and attachment for nature and outdoor recreation began at early age. With the exception of his grandmother, Olson later recalled for the Minneapolis Star that “nobody understood why on earth I had to be running off in the woods all the time.”  His father and mother held little interest in the outdoors, except to fish or picnic occasionally. And unlike his brothers, Olson’s childhood days were passionately filled with fishing, hunting, exploring, and running trap lines, a phase he termed his “Daniel Boone Days.” 

In the summer after he completed his degree at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Sigurd began to reacquaint himself with the north woods after spending the previous summers working on the farm of his future father-in-law. He was offered a job teaching animal husbandry, agricultural botany, and geology at two neighboring high schools in northern Minnesota. As soon as classes let out for the weekend he packed his camping gear and took off into the woods. 

The next summer in June 1921, Sigurd embarked on his first canoe trip into the Quetico-Superior wilderness. This trip left a profound effect on Sigurd and he documented it fairly extensively.  In one entry, the draw of the land on him is immeasurable: “This is beautiful. Everything is as God made it, untouched by man. My dreams have come true. I’ve seen wild country and have not been disappointed.” This first canoe country trip seemed to lay the foundation for a new phase in his love affair with the wilderness as well as sow the seed he felt for writing. Shortly after this trip, he published his first feature article for the Milwaukee Journal with the help of his brother describing his trip. 

After his marriage to Elizabeth Uhrenholdt in August 1921, Sigurd resumed teaching, although his thoughts rested mostly on spending more time outdoors and more time writing. To assuage his need to be outdoors, Sigurd decided that returning to Madison to become a field geologist might be the right decision. Even though his instructors left a lasting impression on him, Sigurd dropped out after one semester, likely after discovering his impending fatherhood.

Sigurd returned to teaching once more in February 1923, not because he enjoyed it, but most likely because it was a stable source of income. He and Elizabeth moved to the edge of the wilderness in Ely, Minnesota where Sigurd began teaching at the high school. It was in his outdoor classroom where Sigurd was in his element; where he could convey the sense of wonder he felt in experiencing nature first hand. 

To compensate in the summer months, Sigurd took a job as a wilderness guide, becoming intimately acquainted with all the major canoe routes, the best camp sites, the best places to fish, and the whole of the Quetico-Superior. He often turned the trips he led into more than just fishing expeditions. To him, they were opportunities to teach about the lay of the land, its geology, the flora and fauna, and its cultural history. Despite hectic summers spent as a guide, Sigurd began to find a new meaningful purpose and a sense of peace and contentment through his trips into the wilderness. To him, “wilderness is a spiritual necessity, an antidote to the high pressure of modern life, a means of regaining serenity and equilibrium.” Time spent in the outdoors became an elixir to maintain simplicity and balance in his life.

The year of 1925 marked Sigurd’s entry into the realm of conservation activism, which continued until his death in 1982. The U.S. Forest Service proposed bisecting the canoe country with roads to ease the movement of people and equipment in the event of forest fires and local business owners wanted to boost the tourism sector. Though there were areas of the region designated as wilderness areas, roads were subsequently built, opening the door for more development, considerably shrinking the American side of the Quetico-Superior Wilderness. 

In 1947, after resigning as the dean of Ely Junior College, Sigurd decided to pursue writing full-time and become a professional conservationist. In the years leading up to this decision, Sigurd had written numerous essays and articles reflecting on his life in the wilderness, the nostalgia of a bygone era, plant and animal life, and most importantly to Sigurd, the need to preserve the wilderness. In the years following 1947, Sigurd rose prominently as a writer and as a conservationist leader. The skills he had  gained as a wilderness guide and an educator also proved to be advantageous in his years as a leader of the wilderness perseveration movement, especially in defusing tension between strong-willed Congress members and environmentalists. He served as vice president and president of both the National Parks Association and the Wilderness Society and was instrumental in drafting the Wilderness Act which set the stage for the Wilderness Preservation system in the U.S. In 1978, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area was granted full wilderness status, fifty years after Sigurd’s first efforts to protect it. Throughout these years, he continued to publish many articles and essays in addition to nine books outlining the wonder and awe of nature and the wilderness. 

In the few years leading up to his death, Sigurd had been in poorer health, having undergone treatment for colon cancer in 1979 and never fully regaining his strength. At the time of his death in 1982, though, Sigurd felt well enough and decided to go for a hike on snowshoe. It was during this hike that he suffered a fatal heart attack. He had just completed his ninth and last book, Of Time and Place, published after his death. 

Sigurd Olson spent the better part of sixty years expressing the importance of wilderness preservation and simple beauty of nature itself. Through his quiet wisdom and intimate relationship with the natural world, Sigurd became one of the most influential and active conservationists and nature writers of the twentieth century. His last typed words embody the very pioneer spirit he advocated and the sense of wonder he felt at the turning point of his life. Before he left his cabin, he wrote that, “a new adventure is coming up and I know it’s going to be a good one” and that “as long as there are young men with the light of adventure in their eyes or a touch of wildness in their souls, rapids will be run.”

Quotes, timeline of events, and vision of Sigurd Olson referenced from:

Backes, David. Wilderness Within: the Life of Sigurd Olson. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1997. Print.

Backes, David and Sigurd Olson. The Meaning of Wilderness: Essential Articles and Speeches. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2001. Print. 

The Wilderness World of Sigurd Olson. Video