Mission Accomplished!! (again)

Well it’s finally over, the project that is, we built nearly 4 miles of fence in 3 ½ weeks. Toughest work we’ve come across so far, but we hunkered down and handled it like champs, even finishing it in significantly less time than allotted (5 weeks). We saved a stream and some fish and we mostly did it with smiles on our faces and limited cuts from the razor sharp barb wire. And believe it or not between all this we managed to plant close to 10 thousand reeds and swamp grasses in a wetlands area that is practically in our own back yard. We came together as a crew even more than expected and stayed peaceful even as hot 10 hour days and early morning rises bared down on us. Though the hard road to greatness was not always the easiest, it was what made it difficult that made it magnificent. That’s all I have to say about that.
- Jake Arnfast , CD CM

Oh, what a hitch!

This hitch seemed to last forever, yet I can't believe it's over. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to quit, ...but we pushed on and hiked 10 miles a day on top of trail work for 9 days straight! It's been a long time since I've pushed myself this hard physically, and mentally. It was exhausting, but absolutely worth it to see what we can accomplished as a crew. We dug well over 2,500 feet of trail and felt every bit of it. It was tough to get up in the morning with an achey body and know what work was ahead of you for the day. But we encourage each other all the time, whether it be with a hug, a silly joke, or a ridiculous song! "These lops are made for loppin', and that's just what they'll do..." My crew members have become my best friends! I will never forget this incredible experience.

"Thus situated, many hundred miles from our families in the howling wilderness, I believe few would have equally enjoyed the happiness we experienced. I often observed to my brother, you see how little nature requires to be satisfied? Felicity, the companion of content, is rather found in our breasts than in the enjoyment of external things." --Daniel Boone

Jen Haas

ROI Value - Jon Luthanen, GY

To my disdain in college, I was required to take a number of business related courses due to my choice of major. Several times, in classes ranging from microeconomics to accounting, the concept of ROI value, or return on investment, was discussed. In its basest terms, ROI calculates how much one makes back from an initial buy in amount.

You may be asking yourself, how the hell does this relate to MCC?! We swing pick mattocks, get dirty, all while living the lifestyle of a nomad all summer long maintaining trails and getting awesome t-shirt tan lines, and then wrap up our term of service.

Well, I’d like to consider my MCC experience on the whole as an example (though it’s still underway). After a rough layoff in early 2009 and faced with the perspective of joblessness during economic hard times, I invested many hours researching potential job leads on the internet. After filling out an application for the MCC, and taking about 30 minutes of my time for a phone interview, I was hired! The time investment wasn’t all that rough - certainly not as daunting as the financial investment in gearing up for what would be an amazing season. For someone still making car and rent payments at the time (living off of unemployment funds), getting some solid camping / work gear was stretching my financial limits. Renting a moving truck cross country was yet another financial hardship, but things just kept falling into place to allow me to make moving to Bozeman a reality.

So, last season happened shortly thereafter the move. When I came in as a crew member in the Greater Yellowstone region in late May 2009, I immediately faced adversity: financially, physically, emotionally, and many other ways. The season was not ideal by any means … constant schedule changes due to stimulus monies changing sponsor needs, interpersonal turmoil between members of my crew, feeling homesick and missing friends / family, the loss of several family members during the season, and so on. In short, life came at me unrelentingly throughout last season whether I was ready for it or not.

The Ah Ha Moment
So, how masochistic must I have seemed to have pursued further employment with MCC after last season??? Well, amidst all the conflict last year, there was a point in time where I turned a corner in my life. The proverbial ‘Ah Ha’ moment – the realization that I was actually being paid to camp out in some of the most remote, beautiful areas in the lower 48 all summer long while fulfilling a desire to serve my country and help others from a volunteer perspective – came to me in Grey’s River, WY while on hitch. My crew had hiked up a section desolate, unused and hardly accessible trail and stumbled upon an alpine lake in the most beautiful area I have laid my eyes on to date. To think that this gem was ‘my office’ for the summer woke me up inside. It’s been my experience that things as beautiful as what I witnessed that day have a way of altering a person ever after. It was during that time that I knew I wanted to pursue work for the MCC in any way, shape, or form past my crew member experience.

I had the skeletal foundation of what this program was, and just how big of an impact it can make on someone’s life as a crew member. I wanted more … I applied and was accepted in a crew leader position for GY 2010. Enter a few months break from outdoor work, and the crew leader season began in mid February. After several hardcore leadership workshops, a weeklong wilderness advanced first aid training course, some backcountry / chainsaw training, and several projects later, I began to piece together my crew member experience through the eyes of my leaders last season. Another Ah-Ha moment came forth – just why exactly did they do what they did and said what they said in those situations??? Everything came full circle for me during those trainings and totally fleshed out the skeletal view I had of the MCC. That Ah-Ha moment left me viewing the program in nothing but the most positive light … MCC is truly a life changing experience, with all the potential in the world of breaking you down to the most fundamental you and then building you back up into something way more than you were before.

Return
What did I come away with, you ask? From last season alone, my self awareness level has gone out the roof. I have never in my life been so perceptive of just who I am and what fabric composes my being … what makes me tick, to what makes me ticked off.

I will come away from this program with the financial savvy to weather any storm that may come my way. I’ve never lived so cheaply in my life, but dually never needed so little to be happy. This was one of the best perks of working for the MCC – I’ve honed my money management skills to a fine point. All the college courses in the world that attempt to prep you for the ‘real world’ couldn’t have had the impact that being an AmeriCorps national volunteer has had on my life, and this impact will directly affect how I live long after my time with the MCC.

I feel confident in my ability to work with anyone doing anything after my experiences in this program. MCC hires such an eclectic group of people every season from all corners of the US, and the personality types that you encounter are so vast – the company of these people throughout the course of a summer in as an intensive work / living environment as we face will leave no alternative but to rub off on you.

Physically, I’ve never been in better shape in my life. The loss of forty pounds last season spurred on a health check in myself that has filtered all the way down to my daily diet. The active lifestyle that I now pursue outside of work is a direct reflection of self betterment that has come with my work in the MCC.


So, some time, a few dollars, and a big move across the US resulted in a life forever altered. Sounds and feels like to me that my college education paid off – the return on investment of time spent working for the MCC is immeasurable.

Looking good, feeling good, looking good, safety; safety fourth - Ingrid Johnson NRock

The week was spent in the Koonenai National Forest, Libby Ranger District, restoring 2 historic buildings built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930's. Scraping and sanding lead based paint from the historic structures; straight out of a scene from E.T., head to toe one piece Hazmat suits, breathing masks, face shields.

Back on Black Tail - Sara Griffith, GY

Our second hitch in Yellowstone brought new challenges from a more technical perspective. We learned how to build rock water bars and steps. It was the sort of situation where you alternate between cursing and pleading with the rocks to work. Ultimately, what seemed to be going nowhere fast, ends up looking really nice and the frustration thankfully fades into the background.

To dig the holes for our structures we introduced a little gas-powered muscle in the form of a Pionjar. Working the Pionjar is like bouncing a fat, temperamental baby up and down. You hug it up, show it love and hope the two of you can communicate on the same level. Difficult, but fun.

We also completed some additional trail maintenance work. Our crew widened another section, de-rocked others, cleared drains and just generally sought out trail perfection. Which reminds me now of something Cager (Yellowstone NP trail crew) was talking to us about on this hitch. The work we are doing has a lasting impact, not just on the trail, but on the people who use it. Hopefully, our trail helps them find what it is they are looking for. Whether it is just a fun story to tell or a part of themselves they didn't know was missing.

Our last day of the hitch was all about the helicopter. At times there were two of them dropping off loads of supplies that we will use to fix the Black Tail bridge. Unloading the pallets of supplies was a rush. Everyone worked together to quickly move the supplies from the drop zone and stack them in another location. Unfortunately, the helicopter work had to be stopped early that day because of wind. I can't wait to return to Yellowstone and see all of the project supplies that were brought in after we left.

July the seventeenth, 2010. 22:10 - Eric Milliken, GY

Today is a day off. We have completed three of the first of five scheduled two week hitches. We have been taking a lot of pictures, but there is just nowhere to upload them. My Forest Service radio doesn’t seem to have any USB ports and I can’t seem to MacGyver my headlamp and water filter into a hotspot. I think I may be close, but I think I used the red wire when it clearly should have been the blue.

Misguided nonsense aside, I am still sound of mind and minus a few scratches, dents, and a missing toenail, and what I think is a fabulous beard (we’ll have to see what the gf thinks), I am sound of body.

We are a day short of 40 into our central Idaho adventure. It was a clear day on the 7th of June when we were escorted (a day early) on to our ride to the Frank Church. A 12 seat smoke jumper pleasantly and epically covered in red and prominently displaying the word fire. I’m not going to lie, I felt pretty cool. We flew in early on the heels of weather concerns. The planes can only land on the backcountry airstrip in V.F.R. conditions, that is, the pilot needs to be able to see runway because there is no equipment to guide in a plane, with the exception of a wind sock. Maybe runway is too strong a word. It is an alarmingly hilly, horse plow maintained dirt path in the middle of nowhere.

So our adventure started at Indian Creek Guard Station with a hurried offloading of our plane, and us staring at our mound of gear in amazement. Did I really need to bring a down coat, fleece jacket, and two pairs of long underwear?

Our pack animals had been delayed indefinitely; high water and impassable trail somewhere scores of miles from where we stood. Buying over 100 pounds of cheese was hilarious to me in the Bozeman Costco - the prospect of carrying it decidedly less funny. I am exaggerating a little. We had our food broken up into five resupplies so with us we had only 14 pounds of cheese. But we also had hordes of cans, dozens of apples, hundreds of tortillas, and a spice kit that weighed over 20 pounds. All of this was ok, with the promise of mules. Not great when the mules are myself, my co leader Laura, Savannah, Jeremy, Ehrin, and Tyler. Not to mention we had well over 100 pounds of tools, and tons of group gear.

To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.

We spent our first four days based out of Indian Creek, eating all of our can-intensive meals. We covered the first five miles of the trail in this time. Not everything went smoothly. I was teaching Jeremy and Savannah how to use a crosscut saw to cut a tree out of the trail. I had a momentary lapse of attention. In this brief time the wedge holding the cut open popped out and our saw became hopelessly bound. Think of a tree lying across a stream supported by both banks and only air under it in the middle. If you make a cut in the middle from the top of the log, the tree will close the cut and trap the saw as gravity tries to bring it to the center of the earth. Both sides of that tree would push against each other with all of their weight, making sure that saw stays exactly where it is. We were cutting a tree lying on the crown of the trail, but the same principle applies.

Now I of course let this happen as a teaching tool, being the infallible mountain man that I am. I not only wanted to teach them crosscutting, but also axemanship, and how to chop a tree in half. Anyone who has split wood with a maul knows the relative ease with which it gives way to your mighty stroke. Well, that is, cutting wood with the grain, cutting against it is much, much harder.

My brilliantly planned and aptly timed lesson took about one hour of chopping at the end of a work day. The good news: we got the saw out unharmed, removed the tree from the trail, and my crew members still talk to me.

After clearing five miles it was time to move down the trail. We were on a national wild and scenic river corridor, protected because it is gorgeous and because it is a spawning ground for ocean going salmon. With that designation come a handful of restrictive rules to protect the river, the pertinent one being no pooping within a quarter mile of the river. To get 1320 feet from the river would involve walking over a very impressively steep and high ridgeline. Generally out of the question if you have to do it every day. We would spend as much time pooping as working.

Being a solutions oriented person, our Forest Service sponsor provided us with a steel constructed 10 gallon toilet designed for rafters that was even heavier than it sounds. Not only do we get to carry all of our crap that my body deemed excessive, we also get to carry our means to poop too, literally. Thank you so, so, so much Andy Bonn, that really made my day. Remind me to write him a thank you letter.

We got through it, more than that, we embraced and even enjoyed the challenge. We moved camp on our own again, without park support retrieving our food from Indian Creek, taking it to our campsite, and then another four miles to the rapid river trailhead. We were without mules for almost a month. It was wonderful, honestly. The bonding created by challenge is awesome. It almost seemed like cheating when the mules showed up.

To this date, we have made the entire length of the Middle Fork and Rapid River trail passable, over 20 miles. We are going to spend the remainder of our time making the trail stick to a hillside that very badly wants to visit the river far below.

There are two sections of trail near our campsite that pass over sections that have slid recently. They are currently about 70 degrees and cover vegetation-free slopes plunging into the pristine river. They are impossible to go around, so we will be building inside and outside rock retainers to keep the trail precisely where it is.

Wish us luck on our dry stone masonry. All is well in the River of no Return. Oh, Ehrin and Tyler would be upset if I didn’t mention this: They both caught over 20 rainbows and cut throats in a three hour period on fly rods on the Middle Fork of the Salmon. Jealous? You should be.

Take care, all my MCC friends. Hope your seasons are amazing and your toils fruitful.

All for now from the Frank Church.

Ode to Moose Creek, by Kaylin Wilson, WW Immersion Crew

Being on the wilderness immersion crew is truly a unique experience. How many people in this country can say they have lived in one of the most remote areas of the country? No lights, no motors, no stores, no radio, no ice cream, no stress. A friend once told me: “Bliss is in abundance in the wilderness and so easily lost on return to the land of the normals.” I never knew what he meant until I came out here. I had bread for the first time in a month yesterday and that was bliss. I pushed my body till every muscle was burning, and I was gasping for breath, just to get a view from the top of a mountain and that was bliss. Lying in my hammock and watching the sun set over the ridge is bliss. I have found more happiness and meaning to my work in one month here than all previous experiences combined. Our work here is worthwhile. We are preserving historic trails and a forgotten way of life. It is so easy to get caught up in modern society and forget that there is a simpler way of life.

“Take the wilderness challenge” we were told when we got here. This is the call to use our own physical resources rather than relying on technology. A cross cut vs. a chain saw. A double-jack vs. a Pionjar. The Wilderness Act calls for land untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor that does not remain. No roads (except for administartive purposes), and no mechanical transport. So here we are taking the wilderness challenge, trying to work in extreme conditions using primitive techniques. At times it can be frustrating and overwhelming. But then I remember that people like me are going to use the trails. We are creating opportunities for solitude seekers. People who need an escape from the overcramped society we live in, a place to go to, to reconnect to our human nature. It’s so comforting to know that these lands we are working are federally protected, that at least a small part of this country is safe from being paved over and turned into a parking lot or housing complex.

Our days of working are spent clearing fallen trees, doing retread, cleaning water bars, and brushing. I’m not going to say that brushing is boring and tedious, but there is a reason that I listed it last. The days are long, but being able to see our progress at the end of the day is motivation.

The days off are spent hiking and lounging. You would never expect there to be a small city in the wilderness, but that is essentially what the ranger station is. It is a hodge-podge of people cramming together from across the country for the common cause of this pristine land. Our bond is that we acknowledge the beauty and worth of this land and our work here. I look forward to the rest of the summer and the rewards in store.

The Soggy Bottom Boys - NR

We’re MCC Youth Crew Leaders and We Wear Carharrts!! - Chris Chambers/Alisa Hoven - EW

(Contents of this post should be read aloud in a deep, southern accent, with a sense of toughness and wisdom. It also resembles the Levi Strauss promotional technique of listing real accomplishments and then telling you they wear Levi Strauss). Here goes...

We’re MCC Youth Crew Leaders
We’ve...
-Driven over “gumbo” clay roads and survived
-Killed 899,672 mosquitoes and counting
-Watched purple fire sunsets
-Stood under the biggest sky in America
-Pulled out eight miles of old fence (older than your grand pappy’s diapers)
-Watched the wild bison of the great prairies graze freely
(and we ate one…in the form of a burger)
-Trudged through soaked prairie in a thunderstorm
-Pulled 28 consecutive 13 + hour days
-Walked through mud up to our thighs
- Cleared out 90ish drainages (check our project accomplishment sheet for more accuracy)
-Cut down 30 potential deadly trees from the trail
-Name a trail structure, we’ve either built it or looked it up in our manuals
-Sighted/befriended six moose or meese…whatever
-Sung lullabies to six teenagers daily and they liked it
-Instilled a good work ethic in Montana youth to be leaders of the future

We’re MCC Youth Crew Leaders and we wear Carharrts!!

The Plains Crew Chronicles

Whoooaaa- building trail is like totally awesome.

What a day this week has been. The Plains Crew set out once again on a path that knows no end. After celebrating the fourth with explosions, s'mores and wonderment we saddled up again for what we had hoped would be our last installment of our switchback-crazy, trail-building extravaganza. Sore muscles made us cry, blistery feet made us whimper, and good food made our tummies grumble. It's all part of the job, and we're rising to the challenge quite nicely if you ask me.

Good news. We're cozying up even more with our sponsor, Steve. What a totally awesome, super fantastic, stellar dude. He even comes out and melts with us in the hot hot sun.

Other highlights include the CCIRCUSSSSSSSSS! Holy cow it was amazingggggggggg.

We also had to pull weeds on two of our 5 days off. Really MCC? One of our less fortunate members had to do it for 4 of hir 5 days off. They didn't even bring us any gatorade or those nice ice cream sammiches that they know for a fact that we like! Whatevs, MCC, you know you got us coming back for more.

Vicky Anderson

It’s called an “Immersion Crew” - Lemmy Breault, NR

In the MCC, it means that you abandon civilization to live and work in the wilderness of Montana. Most MCC crews are based out of cities like Kalispell or Missoula, but Immersion Crews - of which there are only a very few – know no city, and are in fact hundreds of miles from… well, anywhere really.

To be fair, all crews spend time in the woods, the mountains, to anywhere that the trails bring them. Quite simply that is usually where the work is. We all camp. We all hike. We all cut tread. The difference is found in how we spend our off-time. Most crews go home when the hitch is over. But an Immersion Team finds no such distinction. We are already home…

It is a great sacrifice, to be sure. Living in the wilderness means exactly as it sounds. We are minus most every convenience of man; northing lights up, mothering microwaves, and nothing drives. Your bathtub is usually a river or stream, your toilet a hole in the ground that you dig yourself. Your own two feet are the means with which you get from Point A to pint B, even when Point B is a distance 20 miles away that must be traversed in a single day. And the nearest people in your neighborhood are not people at all, although it’s you who would be considered out of place.

Being completely severed from the outside world means that your only human companionship for months on end is found in the other people with whom you share service. My crew is a rather strange population of diverse characters that does somewhat manage to ease the sting of isolation. We work well together, get along with one another and fill the pieces of a very complex puzzle whose picture does not become clearly defined until all of them fall into place. It can be stated unusual, even frightening how quickly we have managed to come together and find solace within each other through our common goal of survival. Barry has suspended his college education partway through in order to participate. Originally from Israel, his heart is still of that country and beckons him to return with every summer, and I think it appropriate to speak for all of us when I give thanks that Barry chose to remain here this year instead. He’s jovial, has an easy going personality, and is interesting. I identify personally with Barry because he is the closest to me in terms of humor and outlook, and his dark shades help me to remember every day that The Matrix was an awesome movie. Thank goodness for Barry and Keanu Reeves.

Elisheba. The name alone sparks interest, and like her name, she is one of a kind. Elisheba has traveled the world, in a sense, having lived in places like Germany and Japan, but at her core she considers Tennessee her home. She also considers Tennessee to be part of the East, but we forgive her. Elisheba brings a much needed common sense and rationality to an otherwise off the wall, Looney Tunes type manifesto… as well as a slight Southern accent, which we enjoy in a guilty sorta way. She is perhaps the most down to earth of the bunch, which can be a surprise given that her very nature speaks to the wilds; rafting, rock- climbing and skiing are counted among her hobbies, which suggests a wilderness of the soul that makes her an ideal person to share the season with. I identify with her because we are probably the only ones who don’t need tobacco to survive, and I am generally thankful that she can put up with me. I pick on her the most!

Evan could very well be the most excited to be here. A Wisconsin native, Evan joined up with the MCC to bust free of the confines of 9 to 5 city life to seek out more wide open spaces. Big sky country is perfect for him because it allows him to breathe in the wilds and revel in a life outdoors. Big Sky Country also allows for Evan to stand up straight for the first time ever. 6’2’’ and built like an ox, Evan is as an intimidating figure as the mountains themselves. His great size, however, belies the even greater size of his heart. Our beloved pack mule, Evan is always the first to carry extra weight or even just lend a helping hand. He is known to offer an encouraging comment when the chips are down, not wanting for any of us to forsake the adventure that lies ahead of us. I identify with him because he does his best to be a friend to all of us, as I do….

Mark is the wild card of our deck. Before joining the MCC, Mark hiked the Appalachian Trail from Maine all the way to south Virginia, so as a hiker he may be the most experienced. But so far as everything else goes the one work that may best describe this ban is “chill”. Mark is remarkably chill, composed and relaxed in everything, on the clock or off, making him incredibly easy to get along with. He has a unique slant on life that makes him interesting to converse with, and as a bonus his long dreads make him look like Tarzan, which just makes him fun to look at. I identify with Mark because he knows how to roll with the punches and live life… so long as he’s kept away from the Swiss cheese.

We are all led in our quest by our beloved team leaders, named Adam and Carolan. Adam is a tall, lanky individual (that is so Montana-bred that he is rumored to be the offspring of two mountains.) A child of the wild, Adam likes to fish and climb when the days off roll around, but when it comes to trail he is all business, his authority accentuated by his experience with the outdoors and a general fairness in all things. With his cool cowboy hat and a burning cigarette, Adam is our smoky Marlboro man of the Bob Marshall, and no matter what happens I will expect to see him leaning his back to a pole as he takes a drag, tips down his hat and sings us a southern ditty when the hike is over. And we will follow him into the sunset.

Carolan is a different sort of leader. From dawn until dusk, she beams with happiness and positivity to the point where it is contagious. It’s as though she has the sun and two scoops of raisins trapped in her head, as well as every catchy song ever made. Are all people from Ohio like this? Carolan will work straight alongside us until she is caked in dirt and mud. Her dedication to her team and the job are beyond reproach, so she is quite impossible to hate.

And of course, I am Lemmy. That is all you really need to know… Until we meet again!!

Ode to the Pinedale Wilderness - Heidi Stro, GY

We swing a mean tool
We’re a rough and tumble bunch
Until that vision---

Shanty stick blue tent
By that one thing on the hill--
Could it be sasquatch?

Well, we all got Aubed
‘Cause all our minds were-a-blown
A real shape shifter!

Oh my, Cow-bear-bush
Illusive and mystify-
ing you blend so well

Will we ever know
Your cowish bushish bear ways?
Oh sacred cow-bear-bush

Forever we pine
For your musk, moo’s, and branches
Send us a signal

Cowbearbush.

"Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there." -Will Rogers

The Long List - Erin Hamilton, GY

A long list of what we Ioved or learned to deal with during our first 10 day hitch in Pinedale, WY:

Long car rides with a Jersey driver, amazing views, south park quotes, mosquitoes, hot days, enormous rocks in the middle of the trail, pb&j every day, mosquitoes, teddy grahams, story time around the fire, mosquitoes, developing a language only our crew understands (‘my water has Narnia’, ‘ you’ve been aubbed’, and ‘cow-bear-bush’), questions of the day during stretch circle (if the world ends in 2012, how would you hope it happens? If you could shrink any animal down to Chihuahua size, what would you chose?), mosquitoes, realizing no one remembered bug spray, falling and bucking trees with cross-cuts, crossing cold streams, pack mules, Josh surprising us with bug spray and twizzlers, fire hardened trees, bent picks, broken wedges, nicknames for everything and everyone (gonzo, she-hulk, aubination), the sound of the grouse, inside jokes, mosquitoes, and lastly the great feeling of accomplishment after a long days work.

Credo - Brady Wiegands, GY Expedition

People talk about that one experience in life that changes them forever. They tell the stories of their hardships and trials that made them the person they are today. My MCC experience would defiantly qualify as one of these life altering moments. I met so many great new people and built memories I will cherish for years. I developed a good understanding of how to respect wildlife and preserve it. At times I didn’t know if I’d make it but I persevered and will never forget my experience. The morals I have built during my season will last me till I’m old and gray. I have been taught to always be aware of my surroundings weather it’s during the middle of crosscutting or just bouncing up trail. This program has given me so many life lessons that I can hopefully someday teach to future generations.

The Senses - Brady Wiegand, GY Expedition

I see a trailer and our rig. I see the outdoors the way they are suppose to be seen. I saw a woodchuck on the way to the bathroom a few moments ago. He just stared at me and as I stared back I felt…good

I can feel the roughness of the ground that I sit on. My Carhartts are warm and worn and feel almost like leather. My shirt is a part of me. I don’t even notice it touching my skin.

Flies buzz around my head as a bird squawks in the distance. The creek can be heard but I have been habitualized to its constant roar so I normally take no notice.

When I close my eyes my nose can smell the fresh clean air of the wilderness and if you try hard enough you can even pick-up your own stench.

My taste buds are consumed by the gram cracker that I just ate. If I try hard enough I can detect the faded trace of the chili-mac we had for dinner.

Fish Creek Trail - Becky Haug, WW CM

When asked to describe our first hitch in one word, the first word that came to my mind was ‘eventful.’ We started the hitch with 7 crew members (and even had an 8th person when Adrienne, our project liaison, joined us for the first few days) and ended with 5. Josh broke his finger on the second day so he was the first crew member down. He was a real trooper though because he didn’t even complain about the pain. His finger was getting worse rather quickly so Adrienne brought him back to Missoula when she returned on the fourth day. A couple days later, Robyn also had to return to Missoula. Besides losing a couple crew members for the last days of this hitch, we also had a few tool difficulties and unclear specifications about the trail until we talked to Tim, our Forest Service sponsor. Most of this was resolved by the end of the hitch, however, and we were still able to get some quality work accomplished.

Even though we had all of these hardships, our team morale stayed high throughout the hitch. Nobody complained about the difficulties we experienced. One large reason for this high morale was that our location couldn’t have been better- Fish Creek Trail No. 2240 in Clearwater National Forest in Idaho. Fish Creek, a raging river, ran along the entire length of the trail that we worked on throughout the course of the hitch. It was so peaceful to fall asleep to the sound of the rushing water.

We have only been immersed in the woods for 9 days so far, but I think each of us was feeling incredibly comfortable there. After a brief break in town, we will be ready to return to the natural areas of Idaho to work on more trail. We can only hope that our future hitches will run more smoothly than the first. Even if they don’t, we will still have fun along the way.

Let's Do the Time Warp Again - Andrea Martin, EW YCL

One of the most awesome but also frustrating parts of a program like MCC is that no one who isn’t in it will ever truly understand everything this job entails. When I mentioned to the bored-looking gas station attendant who was selling me a weak cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup--and charging me an extra 30 cents for creamers--in Lovell, Wyoming that I was working in the canyon (Bighorn Canyon) for 2 weeks, with six teenagers and just one other adult she leaned forward and told me plainly that she would require hard liquor and not weak coffee to make it through such an experience. While there were moments I felt like just climbing into my tent with the package of oreos Dylan (my Co) and I had successfully hidden from the crew, those moments were few compared to those moments where I was laughing or swapping stories or building some pretty sweet structures with a group of amazing people.

Dylan and I and our crew had the opportunity to work in three different project locations, Bighorn Canyon on the Montana/Wyoming border, Makoshika State Park in far eastern Montana, and in Hayes, MT, on the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation working in the breathtaking Mission Canyon. Our crew was as diverse as the locations we swung tools, sweat through our shirts and watched storm after ominous storm roll into. Charlie, from Missoula, is a soccer player and fan of dinosaurs (but NOT aliens) and kept us all laughing and working hard with tireless energy and good humor. Katy (the sassiest 15-year-old perhaps ever) was quick to whip out a witty comment which generally put smiles on our faces, but maybe not as much as her guitar and beautiful singing. Ellen was our returner and Dylan and I both had days where it just seemed to be the right decision to simply swap helmets with her and let her lead the crew as she schooled us on fencing mechanics again and again. Dante was our musical library, and the phrase “have you ever heard of…?” came out of his mouth at least 15 times a day… most of the time no one knew what he was talking about… Justin had seemingly endless energy and challenged Dylan and I nearly every day to come up with enough activity to keep him occupied as he seemed flummoxed as to what to do with that crazy thing called “free time.” Shakayla joined us a week late, and was terrified of all of us (even though we bought her ice cream about 5 minutes after meeting her) but soon she was teaching us all the slang she used with her friends and the term “yaze” which means “lies” or “you’re full of crap” was floating through our crew like we’d all been saying it all our lives.

Everyday we would all wake up at 6:45 to get ready for work and would return from our various projects at about 4:30 to eat ridiculous amounts of Doritos and Sunchips while playing Maui-Maui or Uno before starting chores. Somehow we managed to make more than enough nearly every night and it seemed like Katy and I were always the ones taking a fourth helping of spaghetti or chile or quinoa or lasagna… there was never extra on mac n cheese night. Then we would do Core where lessons about watersheds and knots generated a lot more enthusiasm than those about leadership… go figure. Around 10, Dylan and I would sigh with relief when the crew finally went to bed and we could sleep too.

In just four weeks this group built an historic corral fence, re-vegetated multiple old mining roads, constructed a major re-route involving three switchbacks, two climbing turns and around 10 rock steps, and cut a quarter-mile of brand new trail which involved a switch back that incorporated at least twelve eight-foot logs and a few hundred pounds of rock, 2 ten-foot rock retaining walls and around 200 feet of sheer rock-face where the only tools possible to use were picks and our one sledge hammer. Dylan and I had the opportunity to watch these young adults hammer in railing in spite of blisters and sore muscles, turn huge rocks into gravel, hike steep hills carrying heavy logs for steps and waterbars and guide and direct each other in the art of trail construction after only a few short days of instruction from us. It was an inspiring experience.

Being back in Billings, I am slightly overwhelmed by driving my own (much smaller) car, or the amount of people in the grocery store, or the simple luxury of eating grapes instead of apples, but I also have this weird feeling like I’ve only been away for a long weekend. How did 28 18-hour days turn into the fastest four weeks of my life? Do I really need to pay rent and my credit card bills again already? Does the season really end in only 6 more weeks? I am very grateful for the awesome people I work with who I have only begun to work out this time warp with. It’s a little sad that such an awesome moment in time is only that: a moment. I guess the upside is that we get to do it one more time, and time warp or not, I’m pretty excited.

Haikus for Hitch Two by Meriden Vitale, Western Wildlands

Begin hitch number two
Food and wool in abundance
Big red is stuffed

Pack support HOORAY
Jess and mule soaked by creek
Two fire rings needed

Cut and run for days
Trees removed and biceps grow
Hike without tripping

Pancakes for dinner
Syrup Oreos SUGAR
Our crew is wired

Mosquitoes abound
Break becomes a time to kill
Who forgot the deet?

Nine days of labor
Back to invade Missoula
Longing for the woods

The Perfect Rock by Ashton York, Western Wildlands

Only two hitches down, and already I am often visited by a single reoccurring dream: Appropriately clad in full MCC attire, surrounded by Ponderosa Pine and bright sunlight beaming through branches, squinting through slightly fogged eye-pro...I look down to see a mound covered in the most vibrant green moss one’s eyes could ever gaze upon. I know in my dream-state that the perfect rock lies just beneath this pristine layer of sunlit emerald tuft. A pick mattock appears in my hands, and I effortlessly pry the perfect rock from the earth. Indeed, the rock is perfect--flat on top and bottom and two sides, edges that will give three perfect points of contact against even the ugliest of rocks...and provide hundreds of years of stability to any wall, culvert, or turnpike. And that is it. The perfect and elusive rock that in my experience so far...does not exist.
It seems that perfection only exists in dreams; so in life, I suppose we must strive for something like perfection through good, old-fashioned, hard work. We sweat, strain, grunt, chisel, dig, pound, and swing for hours on end, and what we end up with is hardly perfect--but all of our labor certainly ends up as something solid and full of purpose. We complete a project knowing that it will last for years to come, through hikers and packers and torrential downpours. We do not doubt our work because we know that we have done good work-- and good, solid, hard work is certainly better than something we may imagine as perfect. So, even though I dream of the perfect rock, I do not value the perfect rock. My time with the MCC so far has helped me to realize that what is valuable is the intensive hands-on experience of resourcing available materials (no matter how imperfect) and moulding them into something practical, useful, and ultimately beautiful.
Also, more immediately than ever before, I am learning the value of proactive teamwork--and the good that can come from utilizing and combining personal strengths in order to complete specific tasks. I see myself and my teammates learning our weakness, and slowly but surely, figuring out how to turn these weak points into strong points. As I sit here in an imperfect world, scratching at bug bites and rubbing sore muscles...I realize that our time in the woods is as close to perfect as one may ever get while in the waking world.

Entering Yellowstone - Sara Griffith, GY

The first hitch for our Greater Yellowstone crew sent us far away to southern Idaho and the City of Rocks. We started out as a crew of six: our two leaders, Jen and Terese plus four crew members: Chrissy, Luke, Matt and myself, Sara. Unfortunately, Terese developed and issue with her hip that knocked her out of the rest of the season, so we dropped to five people.

Now, for our second hitch, we were entering Yellowstone NP and the backcountry. We met the the trail crew: Cager, Karla, Dustin, Mary and Steve and spent most of the first day in "fall protection" training. In our upcoming hitches, we're going to be working on a suspension bridge above the Yellowstone River. We covered a wide array of gear that will keep us from ending up in the river if somebody should fall.

Most of our hitch was spent doing trail maintenance. We levelled tread, corrected back slopes and remove rocks the size of ponies from the trail. All of the hikers that went through the improved areas commented on how nice the trail was. The stock users particularly liked the widening of the trail in one section that had previously been a bit tricky. Have to love that positive encouragement during the middle of a hot sweaty day when you're covered in dirt.

During our next hitch, we'll be doing more prep work to get ready to tackle the bridge. Helicopters will be flying in 84,000 pounds of supplies for us!

And, some parting words of wisdom "Don't pee in the latrine".

Pulling Weeds and Digging Trail

All seven of us, Val, Peter, Mark, Ryan, Jen, H, and my self, started off the second nine day hitch by pulling invasive species ( fancy for weeds). On the second day we were awarded “Ghostbusters” backpacks filled with herbicide and blue die, which I later found out was hard to get out of clothes. It was like a scene out of a Vietnam movie all of us in a straight line going down our separate rows looking for what we were told was, the bad guy. We continued this for three days and on Friday we hiked in on the North Fork trail for about three miles and pulled all sorts of thistle, mullen and other weeds. On Saturday the fun stuff started.

We are all here for the same reason…trail work. We had all been anxiously waiting for over a month to get our hands and Carhartts dirty. Finally, as I said, the fun stuff started. At seven in the morning we turned on to Merrell Mountain road had our thirty minute stretch circle and began building trail. On the first day we dug over 400 feet of trail. The second day we dug 150 feet of trail before lunch and after lunch we started installing water bars, which if you don’t know is a structure designed to promote proper drainage on a trail and to prevent erosion, we in stalled three of them. We continued putting in water bars until Tuesday. We also got wonderful news on Tuesday that we had been approved for a backcountry trip that involved a 9 mile hike in.

And that’s where our third journey starts.

D-Swing

The Plains Crew, aka "Dirty Swingers" started off their hitch setting up camp in the rain and hale. It was very wet, and pretty darn cold. Luckily, the crying in their hearts never made it out. Instead, the theme song to Three's Company and other wholesome jingles carried them through taking turns setting up their tents under a tarp while Tom whipped together some Kentucky Yum Yum Din Din.

Sweet sunshine welcomed then in the morning and by the time they hiked up to their site moving dirt and doing work was all they could think about, so that's what they did. Did well too, banged out rugged trail and skinned logs for a switch back all day long no problem.

By mid hitch the Dirty Swingers had finished the upper blaze of Hill 7 , got a decent start on the retaining wall for the switch back, and set their teeth into the lower segment. Ashley brought a digital camera up and started getting footage of their progress, as well as some ...other stuff. Dirty Swingin I guess you might call it.

Other memories include getting published in magazine, a moose waiting in line for the bathroom and locals blasting GodSmack at 2:30 in the morning ten feet from Katies tent. At first she was really pumped, but then decided she'd rather sleep. Kinda lame in most peoples eyes I'm sure, but hey, to each their own.

In the end they did what they set out to do and did it true, say tbankya. Only the matter of what this cowboy is calling Scarlet Fever really hangs unresolved. Love on the trail is a fickle thing, ain't it?

-Long days and pleasant nights from the D-Swing