MCC KREW

MCC Immersion Rap

2011-07-05T12:16:00.000-07:00

Written By Nicole an SCA at Big Prairie, Bob Marshall Wilderness

There is a group called MCC

Which possesses diversity

Strong and wily like a mule

Cheery as the Christmas Yule

They make trails pretty and neat

They’re groovy as Madonna’s beats

Though Sheba eats Marshmallow fluff

There is no doubt that she is buff

Every morning watch them stretch

Iron stomachs, they never wretch

Foxy females and fine men

As for hotness they’re a ten

Cheery just like Santa Claus

Ceaseless work, they never pause

Pitchin’ tents in uniform

See how nicely they conform

No alcohol or heroin

Keeps them focused so they win!

Oh MCC a rockin’ crew

Fixin’ trails is what they Doooo!

On a Scale from 1 to 7

2010-09-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

Sunday, August 29th, 2010
The D. Swingers’ seventh hitch started out at the Old Post in Missoula, eating bomb burgers. The most popular was the bacon and bleu cheese burger, which I think we would all recommend. Then we were on the road to Thompson Falls with a mission: to figure out whether or not Jim is lactose intolerant. To complete this goal, he insisted on drinking nearly a gallon of milk on his own, in the car ride to the trailhead. Luckily, he is not lactose intolerant, but realized that drinking an entire gallon of milk will make you sick either way (duh). Travis also learned something on the car ride: how to text properly. After receiving a text over the break that said, “4 u on scale 1 to 7 7 bing the hghst how much do u lik celary,” something had to be done. After a long discussion about how much each member of our crew does or does not lick celery, I think it is safe to say that Travis will be sending text messages that at least include the vowels.

Monday, August 30th, 2010
After warming up with some tai chi during stretch circle, our crew hiked into Cabin Lake. After doing some retread, our sponsor and his ponies brought in our food and two wall tents. We spent the next several hours setting up the wall tents, with a stove in each one to keep us warm at night. It all had a very old timey feel, chopping wood for our stove in the tent where Jim reads us The Hobbit every night.

Our crew sets up one of our two wall tents.

Tuesday, August 31st, 2010
Our crew started out the day thinking we would be working on a reroute around an incredibly steep section of trail. Right as we got to the worksite our sponsor called asking us to hike over to the old reroute to blast rocks in our other trail. YAY! Rocky, Ernie and their friends from the Ranger District showed us how the blast rocks using fireline explosives. The explosions were huge, and after pushing the button to set one off, Tom “Man God” Brangers explained to us all how he has thunder in his finger tips…his ego was otherwise unaffected.

DYNAMITE!! Before….

After!

After blasting and redigging the trail, filling in the giant holes that were left, the D. Swingers hiked the long trail back to cabin lake in the rain. Returning to camp with 9 miles under our belt and soaking wet and cold, the only thought on everyone’s mind was to make a fire in the stove, warm up, and relax while listening to Jim read The Hobbit. After getting the fire going, it was noticed that the tent was leaning a bit. The rest of the events happened rather quickly:
1. Jim asks Kevin and Tom to come out of the tent to see how much its leaning, Tom turns him down saying he’ll hold on to the chimney, but really thinking he’d rather take his boots off and not go back outside.
2. Travis and Ashley come out of the kitchen tent to help, but instead hear Jim yell “Get outta there!” and they see the tent go down. With Tom in it.
3. Despite the shock, the entire crew jumps to it to get Tom out from under the tent, which everyone thought was going up in flames within a few minutes. Tom claims he wasn’t screaming like a little girl, but in the chaos I suppose we’ll never know the real truth.
4. Tom gets out, as well as the stove, and we were left with a wall tent on the ground just as we were all going to go to bed.
5. Two hours later, the tent is back up, everyone is still wet, cold, and exhausted, but we can finally go back to bed, although we spent the rest of the week being a little paranoid every time there was a strong breeze.

Wednesday, August 31st, 2010
Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain, Cold Cold Cold, Hail Hail, Thunder Lightning
Thursday, September 1st, 2010
Sunshine!

Ashley, Tom and Kevin enjoy the view and the sunshine after the terrible weather the day before.

The weather turned (thank goodness), but I don’t think it was as successful as raising the crews spirits as our sponsor was when he brought us bacon and sausage. Yummmm….meat! Well…raising everyone’s spirits except for Travis, our crew’s vegan. After announcing that the smell of bacon makes him vomit, our sponsor, Steve, dared him to go in the tent and smell it while it was cooking. Travis did it, and despite a lot of hacking, coughing, and ghagging, he successfully did not puke.

The crew’s excitement for some real meat.

Travis smelling the bacon.

The rest of the hitch went as normal as it can, with the few highlights being discovering a cool echo Friday night. We all enjoyed yelling characters from Lord of the Rings to have the mountains echo them back to us. Of course everyone went a little loopy on the last day, with Kevin headbutting and tickling Tom etc. We had an extra member join our crew for our last day, Jim’s friend Drew. He was great and was up for digging trail in the snow with us after driving all night and hiking in.

Tom “Man God” Brangers catching snowflakes on his tongue.

Workin’ in the snow, and a little loopy on the last day.

SNOW!!!

Well…another hitch down, only two more to go, and our crew is as good and as strange as we’ll ever be, minus one major person of course. We missed you everyday Vicky! And will continue to miss you the rest of the season!

Hitch 7, by Isaac Miller, Wester Wildlands

2010-09-15T10:44:00.001-07:00

Our 6th and 7th hitches were radically different than the previous 5. Front country is now the new norm, as are Chain Saws, Pion Jars, Brush Saws, and Dynamite; all features unbeknownst to the first 5 hitches. Such queer and alien features, like the Swedish made Rock drills called Pion Jars, were approached by all of us with mixed feelings. Some felt eager and excited, others felt discomfort and disdain, but I’d say the predominate feeling among the crew was willingness to get the job done and step up to the daunting task of digging 4800 feet of new connector tread. At least I was (while I was secretly tricking myself into believing our crew was hand-picked to do this job).
Our 6th and 7th hitches started out similar: packing up tools, group gear, and bodies to hit the road down Wild and Scenic highway 12 around 8:00ish in the morning. We stay on the windy road headed WSW for about 120 miles until we reach Lowell, Idaho, population. 24, scratch that, 23 people, elevation 1224 ft. If there was any sleep on the drive to Lowell, there would be none of that from there on out. After a brief pit stop at Cougar Canyon, Big Red and the crew make our ascent up to Cool Water Ridge.
After finding Coolwater Ridge Rd, we promptly rise at an avg. grade of 562 ft. per mile. After 8 miles of climb, we reach Idaho Point turn off, where we will have risen 4500 ft. At that point we have to look forward to an extremely treacherous ride on an unpaved 5 mile ride lasting about 2 and ½ hours (which led to periodic engine stoppages, coffee spills, and inadvertent head bangings). After having gone through 3 of these trips (2 up and 1 down) the rig started to show signs of damage with the camper detaching from the bed (later forcing us to walk the 3/4 mile stretch to the worksite). Feeling that the hard part is half over, we then set up camp and got ready for work.
After hiking the ¾ of a mile, we reach our worksite on the eastern slope of Coolwater Ridge. But along the way, a Black Bear is spotted along the western side chomping down on the season’s berry harvest. Looking east, we are greeted once again by the rocky Selway Crags peaks and, on clear days far off in the distance, El Capitan peak. In the foreground of the Crags, we see Ghost Mountain, which, together with Coolwater ridge, flanks a former lake bed-turned alpine meadow down below. A gently rolling stream runs through this area. A cow moose together with her calf were spotted refreshing in its waters one sunny afternoon while working. After 3 minutes in our sights, the pair quickly scampered off into the trees, presumably after the first subtle sign of danger.
As our presence was heard more and more each workday, wildlife spotting became more and more scant. Crew member Michael (aka McSpace) immediately began drilling rocks into the first bluff on the trail. A brush saw was used to clear bushes along the un-dug trail path, and chainsaws were used to cut and de-limb trees for firewood. All of this, though, certainly did not keep away deer from scampering wildly close to our tents at night.
In summary, the work done on the 7th hitch was pretty similar to the 6th but with the major differences being lower temperatures and more precipitation, and consequently, having a wall tent. The first night it rained all night leading to flooded tents, sleeping bags, and sour moods the following morning. The second day, the rain turned into hail eventually, causing us to cut our workday short and have an engaging Place Lesson. The third day of work resumed with better weather and brighter spirits. Good weather continued up to seventh day when our forest service sponsor arrived with dynamite. That snowy afternoon saw 2 blasts, including a 16-stick dynamite blast into the main bluff, instantly shredding or cracking thousands of pounds of rock (then pried out with rock bars). The 8th morning we were greeted with breakfast and a lesson on chainsaw use and maintenance (and another MCC vehicle damaged by the ride up to the campsite). That afternoon, we then rode back 1 day earlier than we previously would have due to re-gravelling of the first 10 miles of the road. All-and-all, the hitch was good. Even though we’ve completed around 600 feet (2500 ft. behind schedule) we still feel accomplished for building brand new quality trail and thus making history.

Montana Conservation Corps--A Dad's Perspective - Bob Coughlin

2010-09-10T11:23:00.000-07:00

My daughter Carolan has worked as an MCC (Montana Conservation Corps) crew leader this summer and has lived in the Bob Marshall/Great Bear Wilderness. This past hitch she was near Inspiration Point and Sunburst Lake, rerouting and maintaining trails. I found this out last evening when she called me from the Spotted Bear Ranger Station. During the past ten-day hitch, she and her crew have lived in tents; in fact, they have lived in tents most of the summer. Most of the summer Carolan, Adam, and their crew (Lemmy, Evan, Elisheba, Barry, and Mark) have lived and worked near Strawberry Creek, just west of the Continental Divide. At times they camped by Sabido Cabin, and other times near a branch of Strawberry to the north of Sabido. If I understand correctly, Sabido is about 20 miles from Schafer Meadows Ranger Station, which is about 14 miles from the Morrison Creek/Skyland trailhead, where Carolan has parked her car most of the summer. In other words, she and here crew have lived a 2-day walk from what we in the "real world" (Carolan's words) think of as civilization.

As a Dad, I glory in the stories and photos that have come back our way to Northeast Ohio. I love that her food and mail come via mule train. I love the way these six young people have learned to live and work together. They have done such good work in the Wilderness, a service to the state of Montana, the United States of America, and even Planet Earth itself. Presuming to speak for all these entities, I'll say, "Thank You!"

In the beginning of my daughter's MCC adventure, I worried about grizzly bears, mountain lions, black bears, grey wolves, and all the wild things that can potentially harm a person living in the wilderness. Turns out that they haven't had many encounters with dangerous wild animals, and when they see one they feel lucky, blessed. Carolan and her companions won't forget that rare glimpse of a grizzly browsing along Strawberry Creek. So I have stopped worrying so much about bears and mountain lions (still worry a little, I admit).

I've also worried a bit about their health. Say they broke a leg two days from help; or someone suffered a burst appendix or a thousand other health emergencies, big and little. So far they have escaped major medical problems. But I'm sure they've lived with a lot of minor problems, colds, headaches, sore throats, stomach aches, etc. These guys are tough hombres, who can't run to the medicine cabinet or doctor for every complaint.

Every day I check the weather in Carolan's vicinity, using the Weather Underground website. Of course there usually isn't a weather station right nearby, so I end up researching the weather in Hungry Horse or East Glacier Park or Choteau or someplace like that. I've noticed that fall is approaching in the Montana mountains and that night temperatures are often in the 30's (and these guys are usually in tents!). I guess the next hitch they will be sleeping at Spotted Bear, in cabins. On actual mattresses, for God's sake!

Another thing I do is study maps and handbooks about trails in the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex. I also use Google to find images near where her crew works. I've even located some videos on Youtube that help me picture their work and living environment (there are several videos of small planes landing at the Schafer Meadows airstrip). I do other things, like check in with the MCC Krew blog, http://mcckrew.blogpost.com (which I think is so interesting and wonderful that it should be published as a book), and go to the Glacier National Park website and look at their many webcams. These images are not exactly what Carolan is experiencing, but she is not far away from these places.

My wife and I have discovered two mystery novels set in The Bob, near Schafer Meadows. One story, by Beth Hodder, is called The Ghost of Schafer Meadows; the other, just out, is called Stealing the Wild. Beth and her husband worked for the Forest Service for many years, living at Schafer Meadows and working throughout The Bob and know this landscape intimately. These books have also helped us understand my daughter and her crew's working and living environment. In a strange coincidence, we have discovered that Beth Hodder and I both grew up in Euclid, Ohio, and graduated from high school the same year. The website for her books is: http://www.grizzlyridgepublishing.com.

So I have vicariously followed the adventures of Carolan and Adam's wilderness crew. And once this summer my wife Linda and I were able to visit the MCC office in Kalispell and then actually meet up with Carolan for a day at Glacier National Park.

All in all it has been great fun, a wonderful trip!

[Bob Coughlin, Chardon, Ohio]

Seventh Hitch, Green Team collaboration edited by Trevor Dietz

2010-09-10T09:43:00.000-07:00

We had our first snow of the season this hitch and Trevor had a lot of trouble finding his tent every night. One gruesome night Trevor stepped in the latrine while looking for his tent which was a quarter mile away. Everyone farted a lot from Ashton’s cooking. All ten of us (Plus three from the Forest Service Crew) huddled nightly in the wall tent to keep warm. Freezy warm freezy warm in a cacoon. Good hitch, lot’s of work accomplished. Coffee good, wall tent made me happy. I don’t think Trevor brushes his teeth [He might brush his cat’s teeth]. Sometimes the gravity hang froze! And we didn’t always have enough water for the day; oh no! Coffee at lunch on the trail equals crazy trail workers (Especially Tony) with lots of energy. During our break, we all (Minus one) burned our time away smoking cigarettes. It was hilarious when Quirt (Packer) drank all of Peter’s (Forest Service Crew Leader) root beer (Expect to Peter) Quirt is hilarious. This where the steady cam pans away from the Green Team. The final shot of the movie is rested outside of the wall tent where the Crew Leader Paul is on his knees washing everyone’s dirty dishes (Where he belongs). The camera slowly fades to black and an overture (Featuring Daft Punk’s Faster, Stronger, Harder) plays. Fade to black.
CREDIT SEQUENCE
Crew Leader One……Jen Bullis
Crew Leader Two….Paul Twedty
Forest Service TA….Noel
Cocky Crew Member….Tom Bourelen.
Team Ox……Tony Lawrence
Disgruntled Crew Member….Kila Weeks
Mild Temper Woman……….Ashton
Forest Service Crew Leader…..Peter Baver
Olympic Woman…….Alisa
Rain Man………………..Trevor Lyons Dietz

Fish Creek, by Josh Lawrence, Western Wildlands

2010-09-02T11:53:00.000-07:00

My first hitch was the wettest (so far). It was pouring rain non-stop, I put on wet clothes in the morning and ate wet granola at lunch. I hadn't learned to pack very well and had a lot of weight in my pack, but we were car camping so it was okay. The weather directly affected the mood of the crew. When it was pouring rain, we just didn't really talk much, but when it stopped and the sun poked through the clouds, everyone was grinning. I ended up shattering the distal tip in my finger on day 3, and got driven back to town on day 5 because it was looking worse and worse. Hitch 2 was much better, the weather had cleared up quite a bit, and the crew was just generally happier. We do a lot of brushing. The brush is THICK out in Fish creek, so it's quite a treat when we get to work on structures, and carry rocks around.
Sometimes the mountains don't give us the rocks we want, but it's still fun carrying them. I especially enjoy using the rock Austins, and carrying really big rocks with other people, it reminds me of the work I did for "Randy's Stone Polishing and Repair," which was my father's business. I hope there's more chances to build crib walls in the future. I think the crew has taken to doing push ups during stretch circle in the morning because there's only a few jobs that work our arms out there. Lugging stone, using the pion jar, chainsawing, and using our picks.
There's been ups and downs, but overall I love my job. Being out in the woods is great, when it's dry. We've seen a badger, a black bear cub, and a moose. We've interacted with a family of mice, which showed up at camp at 8:00 sharp each night to search for food. They've hidden in our clothes for warmth, and once one of my team-leader's pulled all six of them out of her day pack in the morning. They've lost at least one family member, a baby that walked into our camp and collapsed not ten minutes after I pulled a stick out of his brother's eye, which was hanging down by it's cheek. As far as we know, the one-eyed rodent is still alive, but the one that collapsed definitely died. There may have been another fatality, after a corps member threw one out of his tent, but who knows.
Each hitch gets better and better, and the upcoming one is going to be in the best camping spot so far. And that'll be the last time we work at Fish Creek, the next spot is supposed to be extremely beautiful, so it looks like we've got a lot of good experiences to look forward to.

A collective effort, Moose Creek crew, WW

2010-08-31T12:17:00.001-07:00

10 toes 2 feet hurt cut bloody dirt sore Epsom salt moose
‘Twas a glorious hitch. We learned much from our new Forest Service technical advisor, Murphy.
We built what some may call a crib wall, and got a surprise from some visitors.
Murphy is a redbeard. Our old Forest Service technical advisor was a redbeard too.
Redbeards are cool. We stayed at “Future Camp” for 6 nights. We were all getting antsy staying at one campsite for that long.
We were surrounded by loud squirrels and kept us up at night and woke us up in the morn.
They recruited owls and deer in their campaign against us.
Eventually they won and we left.
We headed down to Rhoda with Lina, Jena and Harry (all MCC crew leader visitors) they were dedicated to make the hike to Moose Creek.
The next day we hiked back to Moose Creek, 12 fairly easy miles. Andy made it back first because he is burly.
Within a few minutes of arriving we saw Paul (gasp), another MCC leader. He braved the Selway trail and brought us ice cream!
What a man. Looking back on this hitch, we realize how quick the time is going. It seems like just yesterday that we came to Moose Creek.
We could not have planned a more action packed, on the tip of your toes, full of love summer.

Adios, Vicky

2010-08-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

Last week consisted of a lot of tedious and time consuming lopping of our trail, the fun part of that was that I found out just how large of a tree I could cut down with a pair of loppers. There was a very fun part of the week though, our sponsor brought up a Pionjar, for those not in the know that’s a gas powered rock drill/jack hammer, to drill holes in some large rocks that our crew could not move. The plan is to blow them up next week, which should offer us a few hours of excitement. The rest of the week was spent doing retread, we have finished close to 1,500 feet so far and only have about another mile left to go. The sad news of the week was that it was Vicky’s last week, she’s moving on to greener pastures, she has landed herself a job in Spain teaching English. Well Vicky, Adios and good luck!

Tom Brangers

We Heart Bear Hangs - Julie Hunt, GY

2010-08-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

Day Two began with a one mile hike to our nearest source of water… our source of life! We each filled a 5 gallon jug of water, plopped the jugs in our backpacks and like a group of pack mules proceeded to hike a mile back to camp… with 40 lbs of water strapped to our backs. This water would last us a few days until (yes) we would need to return for more.

We then hiked two miles to begin work (that’s a 4 mile total hiking so far...) We cleared brush for about ¼ mile, when our lookout tower sent word that another crew member was about to hike to our camp (yes, the lookouts look-out for us! We mostly communicate with lookout ‘Whitehawk’ though we know his real name is JT). According to policy, we cannot hike alone, so two crewmembers placed the brush work aside, ventured down the trail, and two of us were left to continue working.

Left behind, my crewmate and I decided a two-man clearing team was far too inefficient to continue. Instead, we decided to return to the stream, filled another 5 gallon jug of water each and again completed our pack-mule routine.

6:30pm. We prepare dinner for the three crew members still hiking back to camp, and wait… wait… wait… until about 8:45pm they finally arrive – panting, sweat glistening in the rapidly sinking sunlight. We eat a quick meal, then sleepily prepare our three bearhangs just as we are losing light, exhaustedly thrilled that we are moments from snuggling into our sleeping bags after a long day of work and hiking.

9:30pm. I run to grab my headlamp as none of us are prepared for darkness. As I stumble in the darkness back to the bearhangs… SNAP. OOF! THUD. The rope of bearhang #1 snapped, sending the three bodies that had been heavingtumbling backwards in a heaping cluster. The bags on the opposing end came smashing to the ground, shattering a jar of marinara sauce everywhere.

9:45pm. The sun is now gone. By the light of our headlamps, we sop up the garlic-tomato mess, and redistribute weight to other bearhangs.Bearhang #2 slides up the tree as we throw our body weight (and trust) into our rope-pulley system. CREEEK. The branch of Bearhang #2 bends under its new weight, and our bags slowly slide to the end and slip off, down, down, down, THUD.

10pm. We have now lost 2 bear hangs, only one remains. Tossingnalgene bottles attached to rope, into trees, in the dark, we attempt to create new bear hangs. Ever heard that Nalgene bottles are indestructible? Us too. Nalgene #1: lid-loop snaps apart on 3rd toss. Nalgene #2: first toss, bottom blows out on unknown object in the tree. Still no new bearhang, Nalgene myth busted (literally).

10:15pm. Bats are now swooping at our headlamps, delighting in the swarms of bugs attracted to the light. Stars are out, watching our mess.

A rock is now tied to the end of the rope as a tossing device… seems to be logical at this point. Victoriously (it was all crewleader, Ben) we (he) successfully tosses 3 new bearhangs in the dark. Up the bags go into the tree. Garbage bag snags on the way up... PLOP. There goes the peanutbutter. PLOP. The olive oil falls next. Where is the lid to the olive oil? Will a stick plug the lid?! Duct tape! Duct tape fixes everything.

10:45pm. Olive oil secure. New garbage bag. All bearhangs successfully hoisted into the trees. Up since 6am. Several miles of hiking. Down a jar of marinara. 2 broken nalgenes. Hundreds of exhausted giggled... at least the mashed potatoes at dinner were amazing!

Fears in a Tent
One night, as we were returning from work, the wind picked up and dark clouds rolled in from every angle of the big, wide, Idahoan sky. We struggled to hang a tarp above our 'kitchen' (proving to be more of a sail than a sheild...). I started cutting cheese for our favorite grilled cheese dinner when the radio revealed the impending storm: quarter-sized hail and 60 mph winds, "seek shelter away from rivers and streams." We packed away the cheese for another night, ate some instant rice, and packed everything away - under rocks, in heavy bins. We were about to retreat to our tents when the skies cleared and the sun shone brightly. Too tired to take down the bearhangs (because we've been down that road before...) we sat under our flimsy tarp, painfully laughing at our miserably memorable situation.

Later than night, the storm finally hit. Hard. The lightening was terrifying. The rain and hail sounded like it was slowly chiseling away at my rain-cover. I imagined it piercing through the sheer material, landing on my face, filling my tent, drowning myself and belongings. I can smell the forest fires in the distance (there were 4 simultaneously in our area – we were never in danger, but the smell of the smoke was still freaky).

My mind always imagining the worst, "Lightening just struck the tree next to my tent... and now it’s on fire... what am I doing out here?!” Tiny animals crawl under my tent, seeking shelter and warmth from the storm I guess, their scratching noises keeping me up all night. (Photo: taken near Bozeman - yes, that is a forest fire next to the road... No Julie's were injured in the taking of this photo, and the fire has been controlled since this was taken).

Other nights, each noise outside of my tent sounds like a giant grizzly bear plotting my death. My crewmate snoring is the snorting of a big, bad wolf. A creaking branch is an elk about to trample my little yellow tent. Defenseless, I try to put my headphones on to relax… but the gentle voice of Ben Harper is even more terrifying because I can’t hear my impending doom outside. Ha. The mind plays tricks, and I always emerge safely from my tent... slightly tired, but always safe =)

Bye, Bye Blacktail - Sara Griffith, GY

2010-08-27T08:28:00.000-07:00

We have completed our final hitch on the Blacktail bridge and I must confess I feel a mixture of sadness and excitement. Over the past two months, our MCC crew has grown close to the Yellowstone NPS trail crew. They are great dedicated people that I truly enjoyed working with and will miss. But, at the same time, I feel a sort of relief that we are changing locations. Maybe my feet are just feeling the need to wander.

During this hitch, we poured new concrete for both of the sway cables on the south side. The cables are anchored on the side of a slope on either side on the bridge. To transport the mixed concrete to the pour site, we rigged up a high-line and zipped buckets of it down the hill. The system worked surprisingly well most of the time.

We excavated around the sway cables on the north side and then chipped away the old concrete with Hilti jackhammers. Forms were then built and put into position to pour new concrete around the cables.

In order to jack up the north side of the bridge, a support system was created. Two C-channels were used to brace the I-beams of the towers. The C-channels were sandwiched around the I-beams and then secured in place with bolts. In order to make the holes in the steel, a magnetic drill press was used. When the magnet is activated, the drill can be attached sideways to the steel beam. A pretty cool trick, so long as the magnet stays engaged. Under the C-channels, support towers were placed as well as an "x" shaped brace. The bridge was successfully raised about half an inch, enough space to replace the concrete under the towers. New rebar was cut, shaped and tied into place for the concrete under the towers. The front "u" shaped concrete structure was also poured.

For my last night at the Blacktail bridge site, I sat on the bank of the Yellowstone river. My feet in the water, I allowed myself to marvel at the place we were leaving and all the work that had been accomplished.

For a final thought, I've decided to quote the lyrics from a song called "High Hopes" by Paolo Nutini. It seems fitting to me.

"Oh, I've got lucky in life. I've had plenty to eat. And I saw this world as one big pool of opportunity."

The Shoshone; My Place - Trista Garrity, EW

2010-08-24T14:26:00.000-07:00

One of our first PLACE lessons was about defining your sense of place.
A definition describes "place" as "the specific portion of space normally occupied by anything".

My original thought was along the lines of "I'm a military brat, I've had tons of places that have meaning to me. The Moose River Bow Trip in Maine, the spooky tree in Ohio, a mountain overlooking my neighborhood in California and the creek down the road from my house in Alabama."

After six months with MCC, my outlook on a sense of place has changed.

It's more about a feeling of belonging in an area and the satisfaction I get making a difference there. It's the crew I'm surrounded by and the folks I encounter on a daily basis. It's the homesickness I feel in between hitches when I'm forced to return to civilization for food and clean clothes. It's being so in love that you want to breathe in everything around you so you can be a part of something so beautiful.

This is how I feel about the Shoshone National Forest. Riding my horse out every morning I know I have an amazing day ahead no matter how many rock slides we have to fix or streams to re-route. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be and I've never been so proud of the work I do.

wooooo.

Squirrel. Chris Magee, Western Wildlands

2010-08-22T13:49:00.000-07:00

21 years old and still my command of the ground squirrel language remains undeveloped, how embarrassing. I could not at first understand why it would be myself and an elite team of 6 others chosen to act as ambassador to this, the noblest of burrowing mammals, especially when my experience in the field was so minimal. Sure, at first I was skeptical, the price would have to be right for me to join, but less than minimum wage, all the foodstamps I can eat, and some education award I'm probably too lazy to use, yeah that sounded about right. I wasn't sure how easily being absorbed into the GS (ground squirrel) community would come at first, I couldn't even be positive we would see any, but sure enough our base camp was silly with em. They quickly helped themselves to our rations and ate their way through our tents as a sign of friendship, this was a good sign. Some of the more eager crew members had no problem at all adopting these social behaviors and could be seen munching through the tough unpleasant fabric of my rain fly hoping in earnest to steal my nutty trail mix. It did not come so easily for some of us. Ostracized, pushed to the outside of the community we became GS outcasts, paraded in front of elite underground society as a less fortunate, underprivileged, and awkward lower class. The liberal party jumped at the chance to help us and after a series of charity functions we found ourselves in possession of no small sum of GS currency, (dirt, toe nail clippings, pinenuts, etc.) Well turns out there's not a bank on earth that will exchange this for any other form of currency and so most just went into the trash or a series of well sealed zip lock bags scattered amongst our rig. But all good things must end and without any real documentation, scientific, or otherwise, we went away empty handed back to town. Some people will remember the food, some the grueling work required of any adult GS, but I will remember the simple life, slowly passing days of dirt, decomposition, mundane and unintelligible conversation, and peace that really showed just how much we have to learn from our closest relative in the animal kingdom, the ground squirrel.

Building Bridges, by Christie Propst, Western Wildlands

2010-08-16T10:10:00.000-07:00

I didn't know what to expect when I got dropped off in Montana with a few things and no place to live. I had recently sold my car to buy everything I thought I needed to work and practically live in the wilderness. What was I thinking accepting a job that involved me backpacking (of which I had no experience) in a state I had never been to (and was on the opposite side of the country)? After convincing my family that I would in fact not fall off a mountain or get eaten by a bear I realized that I didn't quite know what I was getting into. After the first hitch of rain, cold, and unbelievably sore muscles I was certain that I had made a mistake. This wasn't quite the experience I had in mind. I was miserable and cold and my crewmates felt the same way. We all stood around the fire we had managed to keep going in the rain and then running to our tents to sleep in way too many layers and wake up and put on the same pair of wet carhartts in the morning. Being from Texas I wasn't used to the terrain or temperature, nor was I prepared. Luckily our crew leader, so brave and strong, somehow kept us going. Hitch number two was full of excitement. We had to hike in 7 miles and figure out how to cross a river waist deep, rapid, and freezing. Watching two of our pack animals get swept away, then our crew leader go downstream we all faced a dilemma. How do we get across safely? Well, we figured it out and after taking the rest of the day to dry out our tents, clothes, sleeping bags, and such we decided to call it a night. It has been two and a half months since we started and 15 miles of trail is now cut and cleared of hundred of downed trees, 3 puncheons have been built (why don't they just call them bridges?), and 70 feet of turnpikes have been added to the trail. Our crew has had it's ups and downs, surprises, and our fair share of cake. Delicious dutch oven cake. We finished the trail this past week and ended the hitch with a greoup slumber party under one big tarp. It poured rain that night and the crew found it fitting that we began and ended the project with rain, and then hail! We are all happy to be moving on... to dynamite! This has turned out to be more than just a job. It has been a welcome change, it has been challenging, and quite the adventure.

The latest from Moose Creek, by Rachel Zeitler, Western Wildlands

2010-08-16T10:05:00.000-07:00

Hitch #4 is finished! The puncheon bridge is nearing completion. Everyone really enjoyed the process of building the bridge- from felling the trees to drilling through the curbs. We built the rock walls which was pretty hard work. You have to be patient and not get upset if you drag a rock over to set, just to find that it actually doesn’t fit right. It is quite rewarding to get it finished, though. There was much picture taking. Our crew is very proud of our work. We worked hard and got great results.
I find that our crew morale is rarely low. We love our work. Of course there are frustrations every now and then. When the work day is done we each have our own ways of unwinding, whether it be going down to the little beach or writing in a journal. The greatest time on hitch- and I think I speak for all of us- is dinner time. It’s always a joyous occasion. There’s food (usually), and lots of laughs. It’s a time of rejuvenation. We refuel our bodies with food and appease our spirits with each other’s company. It’s a great preparation for the next day of work. It’s what keeps us going. Some may think working nine day hitches seems like an arduous undertaking, but when surrounded by good people and beautiful wilderness it’s bound to be some of the best days of your life.

What would Kobe do?

2010-08-16T08:26:00.000-07:00

Seeley One Kobe Blog 08/14/2010
Recently some of the members of Central Divide regions Seeley crew got to take part in the most important job they have ever had, or ever will have. Picking deadly and invasive Knap-weed from areas in the Rocky Mountain Front, as part of their yearly community weed pull. After three days of roadside weed pulling, we met up with our sponsor Mark and several hundred Choteau community members. Together we embarked on a race against time, to rid the area of the invasive devil along the highway. Hours passed and hands grew sore, but we pulled through, and managed to pull eight hundred pounds of Knap-weed. There were prizes to be won, and MCC members cleaned house. Taking home two plaques for longest root and most pounds pulled per group, and a very stunning camouflage hat. But the real prize of the day was one that had been pined over and longingly studied. This prize was a five foot beauty of American engineering, a shovel to put it simply, complete with tempered steel spade, and fiber-glass handle. The crew members of MCC wanted that shovel, no needed it. One member in particular talked about this shovel all day, claiming he would win it. Then beyond all odds, and reason, that faithful number was called...seven....seven....four....eight, and the shovel became part of Montana lore for all of history.
The shovel, properly secured on top of the rig, was returned safely to Helena, where it received a heroes welcome. Trumpet's rung out, and confetti rained down, and Greg Ross wept at the sight of such glorious bounty. He proclaimed the shovel should be set in gold, and transformation was one of majesty. Now back to Seeley Lake the crew went, shovel in tow, to finish some turn-pikes and the community canoe trail. The day's passed mostly uneventfully, and the crew grew tired and worn-down, they needed a boost of spirits. One faithful afternoon, while the members enjoyed lunch and recharged, a man came before them. At first the crew made no notice of this towering man, and went about their lunch as before. But soon the man was drawn to a shinning gleam in the gravel pile, a fleck of gold in the sunny afternoon. As he approached the pile, and neared the crew, they realized this was no ordinary man. But a man of myth and legend equal to that of the shovels, this was indeed destiny at work, and the god's were watching Seeley Lake that day. The man was no other than NBA All-Star Kobe Bryant, he was transfixed with the shovel, and pleaded with the crew to allow him to endorse this shovel with his signature. How could they deny such a historic meeting, they jumped at the opportunity. As Mr. Bryant, or Kobe as we have grown to call him, paddled slowly away with his family, he was seen glancing back longingly towards the gleam of gold in the gravel pile. And a slight reflection of light bouncing of his face, maybe the sign of a single tear slowly rolling down.
Needless to say the shovel was careful rapped in the garbs of the crew, and stowed safely atop the rig. In made its safe journey home, and sits under lock and key in a house on a hillside nestled away in Helena. The legend has taken on a life of it's own, and spread far and wide across the great treasure state of Montana. Children stop by often to inquire about the shovel, and beg of a single glance, sports fans and connoisseurs of celebrity signed yard tools have made countless offers to buy it. But a prize like this is earned not purchased. Surely this can't be the end of this shovels journey, the tale has only just started, but if you find your self awake at night dreaming of what's next for the stunning spade. Just ask your self, as we find our selves asking, 'What would Kobe do?'.

hitch summary

2010-08-16T05:28:00.000-07:00

The D-Swing went nomadic this past week. During their eight day hitch they camped in three different places. First along the Clark Fork River not too far from Thompson Falls. Then at River Fairy Falls near their trail head. Finally, with the help of two horse friends, Smoky and Bridger and one mule friend, Farmer, they moved up the way of Cube Iron to a nice wild spot near their work, say thankya. Their work being two re-routes of a mostly recreational hiking trail leading to the Four Lakes Region and Cube Iron Mountain. The slope of the terrain was a less severe, but still formidable version of a nearby avalanche slide of fallen trees and rock. Layers of Cube Iron's age stood between the D-Swing and thier trail, but not for long.
Good work and satisfaction was in the brushing stage thanks to Kevin's fixing of the brand new saw's trigger spring. After, it screamed two full days true, that chainsaw, and when it was done, a path of destruction and chaos stretched 850 feet laying out the second re-route. It was four dead logs deep in places and always wrapped around a stump, which was anchored around a rock which has been sleeping in the bear grass since the Flintstones. Making an estimate on how long it was gonna take to finish was the game they played on Wednesday night. Saying two more days for 700 something feet was Tom Branger. That gotta laugh from some, and a look from others. Either we're loosing touch, Crew Leader Ashley thought, or becoming a true trail crew. She also thought M&M's...like... a lot. Not even just craving 'em too. She thought about them like they were the popular kids at school, asking her to sit with them and be cool. Asking her what she thought about stuff. Asking her to "be an M," whatever that means. She talks when she swings folks, she says it eases her mind, and I listen, cause that woman’s got troubles that‘ll make the Mad Hatter shut up and stare. Not to mention mess with your idea of what dessert is, or isn’t. Yeah, we’re half way through the season folks, and the lines are blurred. The luggage has been lost and so has any inhibition.
Anyway, a true trail crew they were becoming. In the next two days they pooched out the trail rough, and by the end of the third it was done nice. What a sight it was seeing that trail pooch clean? What was once a river of mayhem was now a stock worthy walk. The D-Swing got their licks and their kicks and all that was left to do was a bit of brushing further down the trail and a hike to the next site to wet our tongues. It’s a beautiful site of lakes and meadows. It’s a nice spot for some digging.
Long Days and Dirty Nights,
D-Swing

Montana Just Got Served, Jane Duncan, Western Wildlands

2010-08-09T14:48:00.000-07:00

PPE, check.
Gas, check.
Bar oil, check.
Air filter, check.
Spark plug, check.
Sharp chain, check.
And yet you do not start.
I pour gas and love into you daily, but all you do is cause me pain.
This relationship is beginning to feel onesided- three sharpenings in one day just seems excessive.
I've met someone new, someone who doesn't constantly roar at me and blow smoke in my face.
That's right, I'm leaving you for a cross cut saw, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Thus far our crew has had a chainsaw heavy summer, but our next hitch will be in wilderness with a capital W and we are excited to try our hands at the age old cross cut. Our last hitch turned out to be quite the adventure. On day seven of our hitch (planning on hiking out nine miles on day eight) we hiked up Dome Shaped Mountain on Sawmill trail to cook a macaroni and cheese dinner that would go down in history. There was rumor that a secret ingredient (capers perhaps?) and beautiful sunset would be in order. Instead, we encountered smoke as we climbed up the ridge and upon summit could see a quickly growing fire just a couple ridges away. The radio informed us that a fire was burning about six miles away and was only a ground fire. We were comforted and began to cook....until....the wind picked up, causing the fire to become a crown fire (yes crowning the tops of 50+ foot trees) that was moving very rapidly in our direction. Dinner was promptly canceled, and we began the hike the I can proudly say is the longest I have ever done, AND it is the next day and I can still walk. We scampered the five miles back down Dome Mountain, packed up our camp, and commenced to hike the further 9 miles out to our rig. At midnight we had hiked 19 miles with no dinner or injuries. Montana, you just got served. Oh yeah, we managed to build 50+ water bars too, ahead of schedule. I'd like to see you TRY and erode now Sawmill trail. Booya.

Konnar and Amanda Save Grass Shoot - NRock

2010-08-09T08:55:00.000-07:00

Konnar and Amanda pushed on past the lake, MCC loppers in hand. They had been hiking the Alpine 7 trail for three days, cutting braches and pine trees to clear the path for other users. They rounded a corner and suddenly a giant tree confronted them, blocking their way with its tangled branches. Determined trail workers that they were, they knew they would have to climb over the tree to continue their job. They hoisted themselves up onto the trunk and began forcing their way past branches. As they navigated past each branch, the foliage grew denser and they lost sight of the path beyond. After several minutes of battling twigs and leaves, they emerged into a small clearing in an unfamiliar forest with only their packs and PPE.

Feeling somewhat disoriented, but by now used to strange adventures in the woods, they hastened to take note of their new surroundings. At the edge of the clearing was a cluster of strange trees the two had never seen. “If only Jedd were here; he would know what this crazy tree is,” Amanda mused. Konnar hesitantly approached the nearest tree and noticed a bubbling gold sap leaking out of the trunk. He began to lean in closer to investigate when a bee flew in front of him towards the tree. Suddenly, a jet of golden sap hit the bee in midair. The bee flashed neon purple, emitted a high pitched squeal, and was vaporized. “Woah!” Konnar exclaimed, jumping backwards. He and Amanda began running through the forest, hoping to return to a familiar path and escape the range of the trees. They crashed through brush and jumped over roots, hardly paying attention to where they were going they were so preoccupied with dodging the flying sap.

Their luck could only hold out for so long. As he clambered over a tall pile of rocks, Konnar caught a blast of sap on his arm. He screamed and tried to shake off the goo for several seconds before he realized that he had not vaporized. Amanda stopped running and stared in amazement at the still-existent Konnar. A butterfly wafted in with a breeze and landed on Konnar’s arm. It paused to lick the golden sap. Again there was a flash of neon purple light and a shrieking noise as the butterfly disappeared. Konnar and Amanda realized that the sap was only deadly if it got beyond the skin, so they donned their gloves and safety glasses, inserted their earplugs, tied their bandannas over their noses and mouths, and continued their crashing course through the trees.

Up ahead the two glimpsed an opening in the trees and ran for it. Amanda tripped right at the edge of the clearing and went flying into the center of the glade. Brushing herself off, she saw that she had stumbled over a broken pair of loppers. She also noticed that the trees with the golden sap were nowhere to be found within this little circle of trees. She and Konnar tried to put the loppers back together, figuring they might be a good weapon against the trees, but they were missing a nut. Amanda was looking around for a non-evil tree that might offer some good sap for sticking the loppers back together when, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement. She jumped and grabbed the broken loppers, pointing them ahead of her. Konnar looked up and saw only an old stump. “It looked like a person for a second,” Amanda explained, uncertainly.

The two approached the stump and saw silvery glitter sap trickling down the side. Taking one half of the loppers, Amanda poked at the sap, intending to see how sticky and useful it might be. Konnar stood back a bit, remembering well his near-death experience with the golden sap. “Tee hee, that tickles!” the stump giggled. Suddenly, instead of an old stump, there was a forest nymph sitting in front of the stunned MCCers.

“However did you make it to my enchanted glade?” the nymph queried. “Enchanted glade?” they responded, surprised (though perhaps unjustifiable so, considering they had just run for their lives from trees shooting jets of golden sap). “We were just lopping like good MCCers when we got lost is this crazy forest.” They explained their struggle and the nymph, who introduced herself as Sylva, told them that the forest had been impassable for ages due to the presence of the Sap Spouters and Vile Vines. Konnar and Amanda glanced at each other at the mention of another danger that they had, so far, unwittingly escaped. “How do we get out of here?” they asked, not wanted to be trapped in a glade with a nymph-sometimes-stump forever. “All we have is this broken pair of loppers.”

Sylva explained that there was a Golden Nut that would fix the loppers but that it had been lost years ago. “It has to be somewhere in this glade, but there are just so many sticks on the ground, I’ve never seen it,” she lamented. “Oh, don’t worry about sticks,” said Amanda. “We’re experts at picking up sticks.” She and Konnar quickly began clearing the glade, tossing sticks to the side until they had a big pile. They had been working for an hour and still hadn’t found the Golden Nut. There was only a small patch of sticks left and they began to suspect that perhaps Sylva just wanted something to clean the glade for her. Finally, under the very last branch, Konnar spotted the glint of the magical hardware. He snatched up the nut and hastily attached the two halves of the loppers.

Konnar and Amanda shouted their thanks to Sylva over their shoulders as they dashed back into the forest, golden loppers in hand. Konnar managed to lop only a few branches off the nearest Sap Spouter however, before the Golden Nut (which had not been tightened properly) popped off and went rolling into some brush. Almost immediately a strand of Vile Vine appeared from the canopy and twined itself around both Konnar and Amanda’s legs, flipping them upside down and hoisting them into the air. As the vines crept further and further, they vainly attempted to slash them with the broken loppers.

Out of the corner of her eye Amanda saw something move in the brush. A mouse emerged from under a branch with the Golden Nut in his mouth. Konnar and Amanda motioned wildly, trying to coax the mouse towards them. Strangely enough, the mouse seemed to understand them, for it ran to the nearest vine and scampered up. Konnar grabbed the Gold Nut, screwed the two halves of the loppers together tightly, and cut himself down from the Vile Vine. He freed Amanda too and the two of them ran, lopping their way through the forest. Gradually the groups of Sap Spouters and Vine Vines thinned until they reached the edge of the forest.

They paused to catch their breath and noticed that the mouse had followed them. When he saw them staring he squeaked excitedly. “Hi there! I’m Nibbles! Some adventure we just had, eh?” He spoke quickly and in a high pitch that was almost painful to the ears. “You have saved the forest from the Sap Spouters and the Vile Vines! You are heroes. I must take you to the King. He will surely want to reward you.” Not being in any way opposed to rewards they felt they had earned, Amanda and Konnar agreed to follow Nibbles to the King.

Nibbles led them on a rather circuitous path through fields and over streams. “Don’t you think there has to be a faster way to the King?” Amanda whispered. But they didn’t want to offend their only guide in this strange world, so they kept their concern to themselves. After what seemed like hours, Nibbles led them up to the base of a tree. He squeaked something unintelligible and three other mice cautiously crept out to meet Konnar and Amanda. Nibbles introduced his wife, Yum-Yum, and his two children, Munchers and Snackers. He then began recounting their adventure in the forest, naturally giving himself a larger role than he had actually played. Amanda and Konnar listened bemusedly. When Nibbles go to the part about going to the King Yum-Yum interrupted, “You mean you told them you were going to the King and instead you led them all the way here and are making them sit around listening to you babble? Take them to the King as quickly as you can, my silly husband!”

They waved goodbye to Nibbles’ family and set off on a much more direct path to the King. Soon the castle was in sight as they neared the border of the town. All of a sudden, they saw a group of wild men coming down the hill and Nibbles hurried them off the road to the side of a bridge. The band of masked men passed them noisily and they saw that one man carried a small child in his arms. Nibbles explained that they were the Blithering Bandits who periodically raided the castle and terrorized the townspeople. When the got to the castle they briefly explained their story to the guard and were granted an immediate audience with the King.

King Treevine seemed a bit distracted, but he thanked them heartily for their services. Then he noticed the logos on their shirts and gasped. “Are you the MCC?” Amanda and Konnar nodded. “Well then no wonder you saved the forest! There has long been a prophecy that a great pair would arrive to be heroes in our land. In fact, we have something for you. Follow me.” He brought them through twisting hallways and up secret staircases to a small room at the top of a tower. He opened a cabinet in the wall and took out two gleaming golden hardhats with the MCC insignia encrusted in precious gems. “Don’t worry, they don’t weigh a thing,” King Treevine assured them. Next he pulled out two pairs of gloves, “made of the finest new synthetic material, sure to keep you hands warm and dry.” Finally, he unlocked another cabinet and revealed two incredible weapons. First, there was a silver sword engraved with the word “Thunder.” Konnar stepped forward to receive it. Second was a magnificent bow with a quiver full of multicolored arrows. “Made from the arc of a rainbow,” King Treevine said to explain the strange way the light played across the bow. “Well, I guess that’s for me,” shrugged Amanda happily.

“Now that you have received you due, I was hoping that you could help our realm with another problem,” King Treevine proclaimed. “Sure,” Amanda said, figuring they might as well keep working as long as they had no idea where they were. “You see, those blasted Blithering Bandits kidnapped my son, Grass-Shoot, this morning. I imagined they will soon make a ransom request. Please, could you get him back? I would be willing to give you two white mares for reliable transportation.” When Konnar asked where to find the bandits, King Treevine explained that they lived hidden in the Horrible Hills, though he couldn’t say exactly where. “But, there is one man who knows. He has a long name that no one can ever quite remember, but they call him Jedi. He swings on trees and sleeps on a dolmar. He lives in the Cavernous Caves at the base of the Menacing Mountains. He wants to build a raft but, because of the Sap Spouters and Vile Vines, has been trapped on the other side of the forest, away from all the good raftwood.”

The next thing they knew, Konnar and Amanda found themselves outside the castle walls. “Well, what do we do now?” Konnar asked, realizing that the King, in his worry over his son, had neglected to give them much useful information. “Don’t worry, I know where we can find some good raftwood,” squeaked Nibbles as he scampered along the horse’s saddle to lead the way.

When the three got to the raftwood forest they were surrounded by sturdy, tall, straight trees, perfect for building lake-worthy craft. However, they soon realized they had a significant problem. Their golden loppers were too small to tackle the trees and ever Konnar’s Thunder sword was no match for them. In addition, one of the white mares stopped running and refused to move any farther. They couldn’t get her to start no matter what they did. Just when they were beginning to despair of ever getting raftwood for Jedi and of saving King Treevine’s son, Amanda glimpsed a hint of blue through the branches. “That must be Pessimist Pond,” she suggested as they dragged the horse to the edge for a rest.

Like any MCCers on a hot day, they couldn’t resist sticking their heads in the cool pond. As Amanda reached into the water to brace herself, her hand caught on something small and hard and sharp. When she brought it to the surface they could see that it was an oyster and, curious, they set in on the ground before them. It began to grow until it was as large as Konnar. It opened and a woman stepped out. “Son of a biscuit, I’ve been in there a long time!” the Lady of the Oyster stated. “Thank you for freeing me. But however did you get to this pond? The forests have been impassable for ages!” Konnar quickly filled her in on their battle with the Sap Spouters and the Vile Vines, and explained that now they were trying to get some raftwood. Overjoyed that the forests were once again safe to roam, the Lady of the Oyster pulled out a beaver saw and offered to help Amanda and Konnar cut down some raftwood. Soon their cart was full of wood and Konnar, Amanda, Nibbles, and two refreshed horses waved goodbye to the Lady of the Oyster. “I guess we should change the name to Positive Pond now,” Amanda joked.

They headed in what was, according to nibbles, the direction of the Cavernous Caves. He said they would have to pass along the Treacherous Trail to reach the base of the Menacing Mountains. After an hour or more of riding, they barely seemed to be getting any closer to the mountain base. They decided to take a small side trail, figuring it might lead them where they wanted to go since they weren’t having much luck on their current path. After several grueling switchbacks, they came to a small cabin. They approached cautiously, wondering who would live so far into the woods. Amanda took a deep breath and rapped smartly on the door. They waited. No answer. All they could hear was a faint eerie creaking noise.

Konnar knocked again and then slowly pushed the door open. He and Amanda crept inside and followed the noise down a short hallway. There they could see an old woman with flowing red locks sitting in a rocking chair and knitting. “Lord Almighty, how did you two children get all the way up here? Your dogs must be barkin’!” she exclaimed. Konnar explained that they had horses from King Treevine and asked what the marvelous smell emanating from the kitchen was. “Oh that’s just one of Granny Sahar’s thrice-baked pies,” answered, presumably, Granny Sahar. “Sometimes I leave them for this nice boy who lives in the Cavernous Caves. He’s always so sad because he cannot build a raft.” Amanda and Konnar exchanged hopeful glances as Amanda wondered, “That wouldn’t be Jedi, who swings on trees and sleeps on a dolmar, would it?” “Why yes, I think so. What do you want with the poor boy?” Granny Sahar inquired. “We have defeated the Sap Spouters and Vile Vines to bring him raftwood,” Amanda answered. “Can you tell us how to reach the Cavernous Caves?”

“Alright… I suppose I can help you. But first you must prove your worthiness by solving a problem of mine.” Here we go again, Konnar and Amanda thought, but they put on happy smiles and said, “Of course.” Granny Sahar explained that small animals kept getting into her garden. She instructed Konnar and Amanda to build something to keep the wildlife where they were supposed to be. “No problem,” Konnar told her. “We happen to have quite a bit of experience with fences.” Granny Sahar told them to use anything they could find in the old tool shed out back, and the two MCCers quickly put up a sturdy jackleg fence to protect the vegetables. When Granny Sahar saw their handiwork she agreed to accompany them up the Treacherous Trail towards the Cavernous Caves. She wanted to bring Jedi one of her coveted thrice-baked pies.

Konnar and Amanda rode their white mares but there was not a third horse for Granny Sahar. They had to bungee her in in the back of the cart with the raftwood and Nibbles. At first when Nibbles poked his head out from between two pieces of wood Granny Sahar shrieked and exclaimed, “I don’t like it!” Once Nibbles introduced himself and explained his role in the adventure, however, Granny Sahar warmed up considerably. The two became fast friends, chatting intermittently throughout the journey.

They followed the windy path, thick with vegetation. The white mares began to tire and to have trouble on the narrow trail. Nibbles started to hear strange noises coming from the treetops. The next thing they knew he was shouting, “Look out—it’s the Malicious Monkeys!” A group of three dark simians dropped out of the canopy and were soon followed by others. They swooped down and deftly snatched Konnar and Amanda’s gleaming hardhats. A second group swung down on some branches and nabbed the golden loppers. On their return swing they grabbed Granny Sahar’s thrice-baked pie right out of her hands. Thinking quickly while trying to hold on to everything of value not already stolen by the Malicious Monkeys, Amanda shouted, “Konnar, open your daypack!” Realizing the plan, Konnar reached into his backpack and withdrew what would turn out to be the ultimate monkey weapon: a four day old peanut butter and banana sandwich.

As soon as the monkeys caught sight of this delectable treasure, they swarmed for the attack. One daring monkey jumped onto Konnar’s horse and snatched the sandwich, screeching in excitement. He leaped off the white mare and went to devour the loot with his companions. Within minutes every last Malicious Monkey was lying flat on his or her back, whimpering in gastrointestinal pain. Konnar and Amanda hurriedly reclaimed all the stolen items (except, of course, for Granny Sahar’s thrice-baked pie).

Belongings recovered, the group continued on its way up the Treacherous Trail. It began to rain and then to pour, soaking them through as the wind dashed the precipitation into every crack in their well-worn raingear. By the time they reached the Cavernous Caves they were tired, wet, and quite cranky. They huddled in the large opening to what appeared to be a vast network of passages. “Hello? Master Jedi? We have traveled far to bring you raftwood,” Konnar shouted into the dark recesses. A faint echo of his words was the only reply, though Granny Sahar assured them that this was the right cave. In the meantime, they busied themselves with attempting to make a fire. After twenty minutes of fruitless efforts as lighting sodden logs and a spent box of matches, the group was getting extremely frustrated. After a particularly ridiculous attempt, Amanda had had it. “Mother’s fudge!” she roared. The others froze in stunned silence.

Suddenly, from the very depths of the Cavernous Caves came a growling voice, “Who dares to enter my home, awaken me from my sleep on the dolmar, and steal my line?” it thundered. A figure emerged from the shadows and Amanda addressed it with as much calmness and respect as she could muster, under the circumstances. “Master Jedi sir? We have battled the Sap Spouters and Vile Vines. We have freed the Lady of the Oyster and met Granny Sahar. We bring you the finest raftwood in all of the land in the hopes that you might tell us the way to the Blithering Bandits’ hideout. We want to rescue King Treevine’s son, Grass-Shoot.” “Did you say raftwood?!” Jedi’s eyes grew wide and he looked around hopefully. “Why yes, I’m only sorry those darned Malicious Monkeys stole my thrice-baked pie,” interjected Granny Sahar. “Raftwood! Most excellent!” Jedi yelled.

With the exciting news, Jedi grew ecstatic and agreed to help Konnar and Amanda with whatever they needed. They decided that a fire was a good first order of business. Jedi quickly assembled and lit a pile of kindling. He coaxed the flame into a roaring fire using a magical technique that he called the “diamond of power.” As they began to feel warm again and to dry off, their mood improved. As their spirits lifted, so did the storm. The last traces of rainclouds dissipated as Jedi excitedly rambled off plans for his raft. Before he ran off to the lake, he told Amanda and Konnar the way to the Blithering Bandits’ hideout. “It lies in the Horrible Hills at the end of the Perilous Path. To get there you will have to be strong, brave, and not a little ingenious. You must cross the Roaring Rapids, traverse the Facetious Fields, and scale the Malevolent Mudslide.”

Konnar and Amanda thanked Jedi and said farewell to Granny Sahar and Nibbles who had decided to stay at the Cavernous Caves for a while. They set out on their white mares towards the beginning of the Perilous Path. They hadn’t been riding more than fifteen minutes when they heard a distant rushing sound of water flowing over rocks. They urged the horses on and after a few minutes they rounded a corner to find the Roaring Rapids. The river poured down from the hills and raged across boulders, tossing up a fine mist.

Konnar and Amanda immediately realized that this was the end of the line for their faithful rides. They sent the mares back down the trail with a note for Jedi and Granny Sahar, knowing they would be well taken care of for the remainder of the journey. They looked around, searching for a place to cross the rapids. They saw no logs big enough to build a bridge, and no place where the wall of water wouldn’t sweep them off the rocks. Finally, half a mile along the bank, Konnar spotted a thin young tree. Perhaps drawing inspiration from Jedi, he tested the resiliency of the tree by pulling it back. When he released it, it snapped forward with a promising spring. Realizing what he was thinking, Amanda hastened to scramble behind some brush far enough away that she wouldn’t be taken out if something went horribly awry.

Konnar slowly worked his way along the tree, bending it away from the river as he did so. Just when it appeared to be on the edge of snapping in half, he grasped it tightly and released the tension I his muscles. The tree whipped forward, dragging Konnar with it. It flung him up and out over the edge of the bank. He soared through the air only briefly before he came down with a resounding “thud” above the Roaring Rapids. “I’m ok,” he grunted, raising his head to look around. A quick investigation revealed that he had landed on an invisible bridge spanning the Roaring Rapids. Amanda walked briskly past Konnar and reached the other side unharmed.

They continued along the Perilous Path, following its winding process to the edge of a large meadow. All kinds of wildflowers blanketed the ground, stretching as far as the eye could see. Upon closer inspection, there appeared to be some 47 different paths leading through the flowers. Having no particular instructions, Amanda and Konnar picked one at random. After an hour of wandering down continuously branching trails, Konnar turned to the flowers themselves and, exasperated, said, “Where are we suppose to go?” To his and Amanda’s surprise, the flora responded. “That way!’ “This way!” “Either way!” they twittered, giggling as more paths appeared, criss-crossing the meadow. Soon Konnar had had it with the teasing plants. He unclipped the golden loppers from his pack and aggressively beheaded several blossoms directly in front of him. Amanda gasped but the flowers re-grew almost instantly. They created yet another, even more complicated, maze of trails in revenge. Completely exasperated, Konnar grabbed his Thunder sword and slashed at the flowers, finally opening a path. In this way Konnar and Amanda successfully blazed a trail through the Facetious Fields.

“Awesome—one more atrociously alliterative obstacle to tackle before we get to the hideout,” Amanda said. They didn’t have to wait long. They came to the base of the Horrible Hills and looked up towards the top. From where they stood they could see a towering mess of mud. Not ones to be frightened of a little dirt, they started up the Malevolent Mudslide. However, they couldn’t take three steps before sliding backwards. Soon they were covered head-to-toe in a thick coat of slimy mud. They paused to assess the situation. There were trees spaced along the side of the path, but not close enough that they could use them to pull themselves along. They were about to take a fifteen minute break to regroup when, in a flash of inspiration, Amanda pulled out her bow and arrow. She tied the end of Konnar’s yellow twine to an arrow and took aim at the top of the hill. She released the arrow and it swerved past a couple of the nearest trees, zigzagged around a large boulder, and then struck the front of a huge pine at the peak of the hill. “Well, it might not go straight, but it gets the job done,” Amanda quipped. She and Konnar deftly pulled themselves up the Malevolent Mudslide to the crest of the Horrible Hills.

From the top of the hill they could see the Blithering Bandits in their camp. Grass-Shoot was in a bamboo cage in the center of a ring of tents. Amanda and Konnar quickly concocted a plan. Konnar rushed down the hill, screaming and wielding his Thunder sword. He began battling his way through crowds of bandits. From her vantage point atop the hill, Amanda shot arrow after arrow down into the camp. The red arrows shot flames around them upon impact and the orange ones emitted deafening thunderclaps. Yellow arrows directed bolts of lightning to their target, while green arrows splashed acid. Blue arrows froze whatever they hit, immobilizing it in ice, and purple arrows resulted in clouds of noxious gas. Naturally, Konnar had his PPE to protect him from the negative effects of Amanda’s attacks.

Konnar and Amanda’s dual assault took out many Blithering Bandits. However, the bandits had a reserve from which they replenished their forces. Amanda and Konnar were just beginning to worry when two men emerged from the sides of the camp. They were both wearing MCC gear and they jumped right into the heart of the conflict. One carried a full cubie on his back with an unlimited supply of water. He sent great waves towards groups of bandits, washing them out of his path. The other ran around shouting at the bandits. He spoke gibberish to drive them mad—words such as “joshuling” With the help of these two MCC heroes, Amanda and Konnar defeated enough of the Blithering Bandits that the rest of them agreed to surrender.

Konnar and Amanda caught up to the unnamed med and thanked them for their assistance. They only said they worked for the higher-ups and that they had others to help before they said goodbye. Konnar and Amanda led the leaders of the Blithering Bandits, along with Grass-Shoot, back to the castle to see King Treevine. They picked up their white mares from Granny Sahar and Jedi on the way. The King was overjoyed to have his son back and again asked if there was anything he could do for Amanda and Konnar. The two looked at each other and then, in true MCC fashion, Konnar said, “Well, we’d like to find a way back to our crew. And also, we’d really like somewhere to take a shower or wash off.”

“Well, I suppose you have earned about four days off,” the King mused, “Though our realm has many problems and we hope to see you back here soon.” King Treevine told them that he would allow them to use his Sacred Springs to bathe. They were usually reserved for members of the royal family only, but since they had saved Grass-Shoot… He led them to the waters. Konnar and Amanda changed into their sandals and entered the Sacred Springs in their underwear from opposite sides of the shelter of bushes. They decided to dunk their heads under the chilly water at the same time. Konnar counted to three and they quickly dipped beneath the surface of the Sacred Springs.

When the brought their heads back up, they were in a different lake by the side of a partially cleared trail. All of their clothes and old gear were piled by the side. They got out, shook the water out of their hair, and dressed. They picked up their regular tools and lopped their way back to camp where they shared the story of their adventures.

Tips for productive Wheel-Barrowing - NRock

2010-08-09T08:52:00.000-07:00

South Fork Trail - Greg Levitt, EW

2010-08-06T10:55:00.000-07:00

July 24 at lunchtime:
I am in the wilderness. The only people we've seen outside our crew have been in planes flying overhead. The pilot's voice will boom out of their speakers announcing Yellowstone on their right. I imagine the speaker saying, "On your left you can see the MCC Trailcrew in Shoshone." I'm staring a waterfall dead in the face. I can follow it all the way from the river to the snow line.

Wildflowers are blooming everywhere now. June is spring here. All the colours of the rainbow are steadily advancing with a vengeance on the mountain. There is one type of white flower with a very powerful perfume. When picked it slowly turns pink.

South Fork is gorgeous. We finished all of our work ahead of time. Despite a bear spooking our livestock. I love riding the horses. It gives us a break and a time to look around the valley at the amazing scenery. The horses and mules definitely brighten my day.

Some of the wildflowers I mentioned were:
Vinca, Larkspur, Indian Paintbrush (the State Flower), Baby's Breath, Blue Bonnet, Blue Bell, Iris, Lupine, Cactus flowers, Mountain Daisies, etc.

Ishawooa

July 10
Today was awesome. I saw a mother black bear and her cubs. Another bear. And, during lunch, there were wolves howling all around. We cut 35 trees. One was a thirty incher that Jake, George, and I took down with an axe.

Ishawooa is my favorite hitch so far. The wolf's howling is one of the most exciting experiences of my life. All of the previously mentioned wildflowers were joined by wild roses. It was our first hitch in the snow. Our first hitch seeing bears, and the most wood cutting work I have done. We removed a total of 101 dangerous and obtrusive trees from the trail. The pass was the most amazing part. You can see for miles and miles seated in a bed of wildflowers at the top of a mountain.

Mice in My Tent - Julie Hunt, GY

2010-08-06T07:48:00.000-07:00

Though I’m still in the honeymoon stage of this experience, it’s not all romantic in the woods. For example, one day I made the rookie mistake of not zipping my tent entirely closed, leaving a couple inches of zipper teeth separated. When we returned from a day of work I unzipped my tent to find the book I was reading (Pope Joan) had been nibbled all along the edges and there was a faint smell of what I grew-up knowing as ‘hamster cage’ fragrance – unpleasant indeed! After disinfecting some items and trash-bagging others, I nestled into my sleeping bag for the night. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rustling… coming from inside of my tent… scurrying from one corner of my tent to the next… to the next. (Photo: view from my tent)
Frantically I reached for my flashlight, which I soon discovered had a dead bulb – no amount of new AA batteries could save it. Still listening to the scurrying in the darkness, totally defeated, I zipped myself back into my sleeping bag, cinched the top as tightly around my head as possible, and forced myself to close my eyes and rest peacefully… one with nature. On the bright side, my new furry roommate didn’t chew a hole through my tent. I kicked him out the next day.
We’ve come to find that mice are our biggest problem in the wilderness – not bears, wolves, coyotes, elk, moose – no. Tiny, surprisingly destructive mice. At night, we watch their tiny little shadows crawling over the tops of our tents in the moonlight. When they are outside, I don’t mind them. In fact, their miniature outlines on my tent are almost cute… in a Disney Princess kind of way.

Our House (is a very, very very...) - Julie Hunt, GY

2010-08-06T07:46:00.000-07:00

The trail we are now unearthing is 25 miles long, located in the Boise Nat'l Forest. We will work on this trail until mid-October. Since we started working at the bottom of the 25 mile trail, the forest service provided a house for us to stay in the first week of our hitch. We will continue to stay in this house the first and last nights of our hitches, but as we continue up the trail, we will start camping as we go. We will camp 10 miles in the backcountry during our next hitch, 15 miles in the following hitch, and so forth.

So this house. This house has become our house (is a very, very, very...), complete with dark-brown wood paneling, brown shag carpeting, avocado and gold-detailed floor tiles, a dusty ceiling fan that hums, a deck that hosts nights of cigarettes and conversations (me only enjoying the latter, don't worry, mom!), mismatched living room furniture including a light-blue, pleather La-Z-boy (really? lightblue pleather?). Like true 20-somethings, we have stocked the freezer with frozen pizzas. Our living room was host to an epic arm-wrestling competition, first the right arm, then the left, and there is talk of hosting pretend American Idol auditions in the near future. Being removed from television, internet, and cellphone reception sparks such creativity (and fun!)

Check out corpsmember Julie Hunt's blog!

2010-08-06T07:44:00.000-07:00

http://julieinmontana.blogspot.com/

News from Moose Creek, Western Wildlands Immersion Crew

2010-08-05T09:42:00.000-07:00

We dragged into our Cedar filled campsite later than expected: hot and sweaty, tired from the 12 mile marriage to our full packs and heavy tools. Eight days worth of dinner awaited us there in bear proof containers, having been brought in by a string of well-kept mules and their long-mustachioed keeper. Later, after eating one of our customary tortellini dinners, a cloud of no-see-ums descended on us and hurried us into our tents.
The next morning: Disaster, or near disaster depending on the scope with which it is viewed. One of my crewmembers slipped off a log while crossing over a creek. The degree of her injuries were uncertain, so it was determined she would be taken back to the Moose Creek ranger station via horse. This went smoothly- only 12 hours passed from the time she fell in to the time she set foot at our adopted home. The rest of us waited for the next day, heavy thoughts solidifying.
We woke and learned our crewmember was being flown to Missoula. The next two days became a blur of backpacking and sawing trees out of trails (there is a reason they call it “cut and run”). One of the nights an inquisitive Pine Marten hopped into the middle of our camp, glancing at us and hopping into the brush. Beyond: A meadow filled with long grass and wildflowers, bordered by low mountains covered in firs and pines. The setting sun peeked out from behind them, washing everything in gold.
After clearing the designated trail we hiked back to our first campsite and started work on a 24 foot bridge. In order to do so, we felled trees with a crosscut saw- it was my first time doing anything like that. After the tree crashed to the ground, I felt powerful, humbled.
The rest of our hitch was spent limbing and debarking and cutting and moving the logs into place, laying the foundation for our bridge. We were glad to stay at the same campsite for a few nights, a welcome change to hauling packs every day.
On our last day, during our hike back to the station, I saw a wolf in the same field I’d seen three wolf pups a month prior. It walked from the trees to the middle of the field, stopping at the trail 40 feet away from me. It looked around confidently, it’s eyes never resting on me, though I could tell it had known I was there the entire time. It turned and ran back into the trees. I continued on my way.
It is not easy work we do, and not without risks. Being on an immersion crew based in a 1,000,000+ acre wilderness area, these risks are magnified greatly. But the reward: The quick glimpse of a rare creature, the feel of an ice cold creek around your aching feet, pushing yourself to the breaking point, and the rest afterwards; the beauty that surrounds you each early morning you wake- the rewards speak for themselves.
By the way, my fallen crewmember was given a clean bill of health in Missoula, and arrived back at the ranger station on the first day of our past hitch break, smiling and covered in dirt and sweat grime from the long hike in.
-from the rustic diary used by Andy Daleiden at the Moose Creek Ranger Station in the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area, Idaho, July 24th, 2010.

Can You Dig It? (aka Blacktail Bridge Part 2) - Sara Griffith, GY

2010-08-04T09:05:00.000-07:00

This is the phrase that kept running through my head during our crew's third hitch in the Yellowstone backcountry. We finally started hands-on work on the Blacktail bridge and our first order of business was to dig out around the concrete abutments. We dug down until we reached the bed (about 6-7 feet on the south side, much less on the north). This allowed Kevin, the engineer to evaluate the concrete and determine how much needed to be replaced and if the bridge needed to be jacked up. We discovered that most of the concrete was okay on the south side, but quite crumbly on the north. It took us about two days to dig down far enough.

The old concrete was broken-up and removed through the use of the Pionjar and the Hilti. We then transferred the old concrete to the pit we dug on the south side and used it as crush around that abutment.

The concrete and bedrock was then cleaned to remove as much dirt and biological material as possible. On the final day of the hitch, we were prepared to actually pour concrete. Half of the crew put the finishing touches on the north pit, while the rest started prepping the concrete operations. In the pit, we created a grid of rebar interwoven and tied together in a fashion that was strong enough to walk on. The pieces of rebar had been cut to specific sizes and angles on a previous day.

Duraprep was then applied to the faces of the remaining concrete and bedrock. The purpose of the Duraprep is to help the new concrete bond to the old. With the pit prepared, the concrete race was on.

We are equipped with two small concrete mixers that operate on the south side of the bridge. The wet concrete is then wheelbarrowed over to the north pit. To say that working with concrete is a dirty dusty operation would be a serious understatement. Fortunately, after a while, we found our rhythm and progress started being more more noticeable. This continued for the rest of the work day. The new concrete reached a level that provided support back to the bridge. When we removed the old concrete it weakened an already weak structure. Obviously, it couldn't be left like that.

Our new slab should provide us a base to jack up the north side of the bridge and finish the repairs on that side. Our crew only has one more hitch on the Blacktail trail. It'll be a little odd to move to a new location. But, at the same time I think our crew will welcome the continuing of a new aspect of our MCC experience.

Family - Chloe Bovoletis, EW

2010-08-04T09:00:00.000-07:00

Goldfish eating ground squirrels, rabbit fur loin cloths, end of hitch hamburger eating contests, otter pop surprises, 2012 arguments, car alarm races, checkers tournaments, the mind bending word rhyming game, never ending pass- on stories; these are just a few of the things that get our crew through the long, hot days. Civilians (you know, all those non MCCers) might call our entertainment simple and just a bit ridiculous but maybe there’s more to it than they think. Life’s meaning could lie somewhere beyond the sensible and the sane. Maybe we have found the antidote to life’s mysteries and the world’s problems. Who knows this could be true, but all I know is that these ridiculous bits of fun keep us smiling and away from black holes of boredom and exhaustion. These simple things bring us closer, so that when our minds are being warped by the images of hounds tongue and Dalmatian toadflax or our arms become numb from swinging a pick, we can escape into random crew imagination time.

Along with all the fun, games, and other world philosophies, our crew does have a serious side. During our last hitch on the edge of Yellowstone, our abilities and bonds were tested. Between the wildflowers and mountains, someone had an accident involving an axe and a finger. It’s hard to put a positive spin on something so gruesome, but in a way this event brought our crew even closer together. It brought me to the realization that families come in all shapes, sizes, and relations. Families can’t always be traced by DNA and sometimes spontaneously materialize in the wilderness. My crew is my family. We slowly transitioned from 7 strangers from all over the country, to synchronized family unit. We feel weird when someone is missing and I can’t deny the growing connection between us. In some ways we’re closer than the average family. We never miss a meal together, we sweat through the same long work days, we say good night better than the Waltons, and we never forget to laugh about anything, even if it makes no sense whatsoever. I definitely wouldn’t trade a single one in for another, even if they do smell bad and fart excessively.

Worth a Thousand Words? - Zach Greer, NRock

2010-08-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

Getting to Know You - Genavieve MacDonald, NRock

2010-08-04T08:48:00.000-07:00

Over the past two months, every one in the MCC has gotten to know a group of people that a short time before were just strangers living in distant lands across the country. One of the great things about the MCC is the unusual ways in witch we all get to know each other. In normal life, when you meet people, you usually gradually get to know them over time through the usual conventions, not so much here.

We came, we introduced, and BAM- out into the wilderness with strangers who would quickly become like family. Over the last month or two we have all gotten to know each other through our work, play, meals, chores, and everything else that we’ve done to pass the time.

One of my favorite inlets into my fellow crewmen’s personalities has been the morning stretch circle and the question of the day. Having to do these every morning, we really have to go out of the box when thinking up questions because all the basics got covered in the first two weeks. These Q.O.D’s always provide a good chuckle in the morning and often times can provide some revealing information about your fellow crew or what they may think about you. Some of my favorite Q.O.D’s of the past have been ‘if the past year of your life was a beverage, what would it be and why?”, “What do you think is the spirit animal of the person to your left and why?”, or “If you were a trail tool what would you be and why?” (the “why” is always a key part of the question).

All of these can provide fun and humorous answers, for example, on the spirit animal question, I learned that one of my crew saw me as a mountain goat because I’m at home in the mountains, am adaptable, and have a fondness of salt. I thought that Zoe was a flamingo because she’s has a bright personality, and is fun yet serious. Now I bet that with out question of the days neither of us would know these important pieces of information about each other. Everyday is a new question and another inlet into my fellow crew’s histories and personalities, who knows what will be revealed in the coming months….

Salmon-Challis Natl. Forest - Meade Morgan, GY

2010-08-04T08:45:00.000-07:00

Hardly working. The signs we were supposed to post to beetle-blighted trees failed to arrive and so instead of working we tramped about in the rain in the measured wake of an old fellow named Cliff who explained and described and diagrammed in loving detail his familiar ski trails, preparing ourselves.

Through thick and silent stands of spruce and pine, across swollen streams and little sodden grouseberry marshes, emerging occasionally into sunlit meadows scattered with still leafless aspens, whiling away and easy afternoon or two.

Armed with a book on edible and medicinal plants we marched about collecting morels and memories of western blue flax, desert parsley, sage and shooting star, avalanche lilies, violets, goat's beard, waterleaf. Learning quick, but much yet remains to be learned before I die young or grow old or this mad technoindustrial culture erases it all. Coming slowly to my senses, sorting through the old city-born irritations and fears, hoping to find, intending to find, a saner man at the end of this.

I must say, it offends my pride to be forced to admit that much of what I was told regarding the corps (i.e, that the work will be challenging, that I will likely make new and excellent friends, that I will take stock of my young life, etc) has turned out to be true.

The folks are a solid bunch: Jorge, a tattooed thunderbolt from Miami. Beau, who quit his job in an act of rare gallantry and headed west to try and match his amazonian love in woodland skills. Katrina, five indomitable feet of freckled theatricality (and more). And our increasingly nominal leaders, Sally and Chris.

Good fortune forever attends me; to be surrounded by such folks...

Hitch 3, by Kurt Barber, Western Wildlands

2010-08-02T12:55:00.000-07:00

Smoking hot? Check. Cloudless? Check. Dust Storm? Check. Rock work? You know it. Baking in the sun and pulling out black boogers was a daily thing. I do have to say that I had a great time. The crew is starting to figure each other out which is bringing us closer. We're becoming more relaxed and more productive. Our musical camp keeps everyone in high spirits at night. Every hitch things are getting better and I'm so happy I came into the office back in February. One more hitch and we're moving on to bigger and better places. I love our spot but after 30 days I'm ready for a change. I just hope things go as smoothly as they have.

Scantily Clad in the Selway-Bitterroot, by Isaac Miller, Western Wildlands

2010-08-02T12:51:00.000-07:00

As Journalist for the 4th hitch of 2010 MCC crew “Scantily Clad”, I had no time or energy to write a quality journal entry capturing the essence of the experience. This dilemma seems to be just another trade-off of being in the wilderness; just like trading thunderstorms and rain without bugs for perfectly clear skies but rampant mosquito bites, living in the wilderness for over a week is almost always accompanied by much fatigue and exhaustion. Now that the mind is rested, it’s time to sum up the experience with synopses of different aspects of the hitch.

To access the trail-head off Idaho Highway 12, we cross a bridge over the Lochsa River (meaning “rough water” in Nez Perce), a river that flows west to meet the Selway River to become the middle-fork of the Clearwater river even further west. The trail head signs are clearly marked; “Warm Springs Trail No. 49”, which has been our main project the past couple months, is carved into a wood post. Below, a new sign is noticed: “Clothing optional Area: Nude hikers may be encountered on trail”, the most natural way to encounter them. From there it is approximately a 7 mile hike up the trail headed southeast with about a 1500ft. positive elevation change. The trail parallels the Warm Springs Creek, a rocky rapid tributary of the Lochsa, which then has its own tributaries like Cooperation and Wind Lakes Creeks. Around halfway into our hike to camp, the wilderness boundary is also carved into wood: “Selway Bitterroot Wilderness Area: Clearwater national forest”.

Before discussing the vast 1.3 million acres of the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area, whose anthropogenic contact comes solely from MCC crews and pack animals (aka forest service technicians), I find it especially important to go through the features of the trail. Trail 49 is one of many arterial pathways into the wilderness, but one of the few that runs straight into one of those recreational “hot” spots called hot springs. These pools are extremely relaxing and distinctly smelling. The tolerable stench is said to be caused at least in part by anaerobic bacteria living in the magma-heated water below earth’s surface and breaking down dissolved minerals to produce gases like hydrogen sulfide. Past the Hot Springs we encounter a Cedar-dominant area along the bottom of the canyon and close to the creek. As we increase in altitude after 2 switchback climbs, the flat needled Grand Fir becomes more frequent. Eventually, trees like Sub-alpine Fir, Engelmann Spruce, Lodgepole Pine, and Western Larch dominate the higher altitude (not to mention countless wildflowers and shrubs).

At intermittent spots along the trail we encounter many rock outcrops mostly of the same rock type: intrusive igneous granodiorite. The geologic region we are in is the Idaho Batholith, a mass of intrusive igneous rock 110-65 million years old. Crumbling slabs often fall right on top of the trail, reminding us that these mighty mountains are tragically becoming undone by gravity and, to a lesser extent, trail crews. The deep river canyons are said to have been carved mainly by stream erosion in our area, while avalanches and freeze-thaw cycles help in the winter.

The 1.3 million acre Selway Bitterroot Wilderness seems to be where most of the crews in our region, so it’s informative to know some facts about it. Founded in 1964, it’s the third largest wilderness area in the U.S., beaten in size by Death Valley in California and the Frank Church Wilderness area, which borders our area to the south. Four national forests occupy this area; ours is the Clearwater National forest in the northern half. It is home to one of the largest Elk herds in North America and many other megafauna species like Moose, Deer, Black Bear, and Mountain Lion. Ironically most large mammal sightings for us have occurred mainly outside of the wilderness boundary, perhaps because many prey species find refuge in areas closer to human contact, where predators like mountain lions are less likely to be found.

To sum up, I should add that it is a personal privilege to be in this part of the world for extended periods of time, even though the work is sometimes tough and seemingly pointless when I think of the few people who will enjoy hiking, riding, or hunting from the trail we’ve been maintaining. The trail will once again give in to the elements and resist human intervention, returning to the condition we found it in just a decade or less; a miniscule amount of time when thought about in terms of the immensity of time our area has been in its similar but trail-less condition. Eventually the marks of human contact will be reclaimed by nature permanently.

Hopefully, by that point, our area will be relatively healthy and habitable to its native adapted creatures, thanks to conservation efforts by groups like MCC, and the many engaged citizens and activists who’ve personally donated time and energy to keeping it wild and untamed. Wild and conquerable only by the whimsical forces of nature, the Selway Bitterroot Wilderness Area seems to be at its best condition when a balance is struck between it being kept wild and it being enjoyed by anyone who enters it.

Stepping in it - Tom Brangers, CD

2010-08-02T09:25:00.000-07:00

Our spike was a very interesting and trying one. It started off with an amazing experience, we watched three dogs chase a moose across a river, then we saw a black bear about a quarter mile from our camp site, its a good thing Travis and Ashley taught us safe back country camping techniques! This was not our only run in with wild life, Katie stared down a large black bear by herself, she has nerves of steel!

The trying part of this spike came around Tuesday, we thought we had finished our first project but were informed by our sponsor that we still had a day and a half left. Needless to say this temporarily broke our spirits. Luckily we we worked through our frustrations and got to move on to our new site on Thursday. The new site was worth the wait, its a beautiful place, the best part of it is that we actually get to see hikers that are using the trail we our working on.

The week almost ended without incident, except for one situation- I stepped in Vicky's poop! To her defense, she did try to cover it up with a rock, but I thought said rock would be a good weight to hold down our tool cache. None of the crew has let her live that one down yet. Other than that situation it was a great week!

Mission Accomplished!! (again)

2010-07-30T08:09:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-07-28T10:42:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-28T10:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-27T07:20:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-20T13:24:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-20T12:45:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-19T14:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-19T12:35:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-19T08:18:00.000-07:00

(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

2010-07-18T10:16:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-16T13:41:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-14T14:33:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-14T14:27:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-13T13:17:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-13T13:13:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-12T13:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-08T10:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-08T08:31:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-07T08:20:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-02T15:03:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-02T12:20:00.001-07:00

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

Winter Wonderland? by Justin Clark, Western Wildlands

2010-06-29T11:18:00.003-07:00

My first thought Thursday morning was eggs—the food I missed most on our first hitch. My second thought was “now what?” I stood outside the Good Foods store, grabbed an Independent and got in my car. My plan was to get some coffee, pay bills online, write a little.

It was wet outside—the sky looked like The Seventh Seal. Coffee is a bad idea when you’re already feeling restless. Trail recommendations in The Independent led me to a Forest Access parking lot. A half hour later I found myself not in a coffee shop, but two miles high, and covered in snow. Wet. No socks. No jacket. No water. With no pack or pulaskis though, I booked it. Hydrating with a snow cone, I marveled at the power of routine.

Our routine on hitch is a tranquil kind of militant. Rise. Hike three miles. Work 9 hours. Hike to camp. Cook. Eat. Sleep. Rise…There are poignant moments—spotting a wolf, hacky sack just before dark, realizing you prefer hail to rain because it’s dry; but the majority of the time is very routine, not monotonous, but lacking that adventurous feeling you get when you go somewhere on a whim.

The results of following a whim are a sense of wonder*. The results of following a routine are tasks accomplished. The task we accomplished is now there are six more miles of well-manicured trail in the Lolo National Forest. I found myself wondering as I swung my pick-mattock: Why even bother doing this? This trail may only be used by 10 people in the next year. It finally occurred to me Thursday morning walking ‘round in the snow—our MCC experience is more than a task we must rise to, it’s a direction we can’t help but go in.

After one hitch I’m already a stronger hiker, more resilient to the elements, less concerned with being provided for—improvements I expected and anticipate more of. What I didn’t expect was how automatic it would be. This poses a question: what’s the good in changing if you can’t feel it? My guess is simply that we may find ourselves in places like this in the middle of June:

Beware the Grouse, by Karen Rice, Western Wildlands

2010-06-29T11:08:00.000-07:00

Water dams. Chain saws. A belligerent grouse. These are a few of the highlights from our first hitch that I relate to my friends and family when I exclaim, “I survived the wilderness!”

Even though I can tell folks back home in Illinois that Montana is beautiful, just stopping to look around at the mountains and the tall trees keeps me motivated to continue working hard on the trail. Or I explain how empowering it was to use a chainsaw for the first time. I even tell them about my embarrassing moment of running away from a grouse that flew out of the bushes hissing at us (so much for becoming tougher after a few days in the woods).

However, I cannot quite convey what it feels like to live, work and play in the woods with 6 other people I just met. Not only do the woods sneak into your psyche, where a clearing of fallen lodge pole pines truly does become home and all the bends in the trail start to look familiar and meaningful, but the people you share that home with become your world as well. Whether it was playing a rhyming game while lopping or talking deeply about family and growing up, I realized how different we all are, yet we had become a true team.

Our differences are beautiful, but I am more amazed at the care and pride we all came to have in ourselves as a unit. We worked together to finish our trail work, learn new tasks, and make camping as comfortable as we could for each other. And that is something I cannot quite capture, and I hope it continues to grow beyond my reach as community unfolds in the woods this season. I also hope those grouse keep to themselves.

In the Heart of the Forest, by Michael Magee, Western Wildlands

2010-06-29T11:02:00.000-07:00

In the heart of the forest where the wisest trees grow
lives a small band of apes who live on the go.
They carry odd tools and a bright yellow hat
and eat enough food to make them all fat
but they're not, they are fit, they are strong they are fast
but how you might ask does this energy last?
Well it doesn't you see, in the afternoon they are very tired and quite useless.

There is a leader who leads them and teaches them knots
she is the one who chooses the camping spots
They all sing bad songs and laugh all day long
they do right by the forest, they know what is wrong.
The trees are starting to like them more each day
and in 6 months they'll want them to stay.
But if they stayed any longer they wouldn't leave and no one would ever see them again.

They obsess over trails making sure they are clean
they like thier water draining sytem looking prestine.
In the morning they stand in a circle and all of them stretch
they try their hardest to teach the moose the game of fetch.
One of the moose has milky white eyes and is old and blind
They guide him through the forest and try and guess what he's trying to find.
They call him ol marble eyes and they believe he is the wisest creature in all the woods.

Ol marble eyes is one of many friends they have met in the deep
A bear once taught them the best way to let tea steep.
They call him the Tea Bear and he is soft and cuddly
There is also a fat rabbit by the name of Duddly.
They all sit together and sing Disney songs
and sometimes get wild and play purified water pong.
It's a good life for these apes in the woods but it can get a little strange sometimes.

Cant' Stop, Won't Stop - Amanda Strickland, NRock

2010-06-28T07:57:00.000-07:00

Before our first hitch we dubbed ourselves “Can’t Stop Won’t Stop.” We had been hoping that a crew name would develop naturally from an inside joke but, at the end of the day, we more or less just picked one. As it turns out, the name fits us extremely well and we’ve taken to shouting it at any seemingly appropriate time.

Whether we’ve jumped into Montana life right after graduating from high school or college or are returning for a second season with MCC like our leader Sarah, we’re all excited to get outside and to do some work in the quote-unquote real world. With one leader and only six people total we’re one of the smaller crews, but that doesn’t stop us from getting a lot done—and we have more space in our rig!

Our first hitch was with the revegetation crew in West Glacier. We spent four days working in the nursery and planting along Going to the Sun Road. At the end of day one Jedd said it was probably the most rewarding day of work he’d ever done. We felt like we were working on the edge of the world. Jedd and Konnar took special pride in placing the restoration signs to keep visitors off of our work.

We were lucky enough to have our second hitch in Glacier as well, this time on the East side. We worked at a variety of sites building and repairing fences. Most memorably, we spent three days in Many Glacier hiking (or perhaps more accurately climbing, sliding, and occasionally falling) alongside the barbed wire fence. As a reward for the sometimes exhausting trek the hills treated us to spectacular views and peaceful meadows where we took our breaks. When we weren’t working with barbed wire, we tore down the then rebuilt a jackleg fence by St. Mary with one of the youth crews.

This week we head out to the Kootenai to do some brushing and I think we’re all looking forward to working on trails for a change. Perhaps we will catch sight of more wildlife as well to add to our growing list which already includes several black bears, some eerily tame deer, mountain goats, horses, a grouse, and a moose!

Stinky:Pinky - Genavieve MacDonald, NRock

2010-06-28T07:53:00.000-07:00

“Obese: feline”, “slum: shoe”. Anyone who has encountered our crew these last couple of weeks most likely has heard a conversation carrying on like this. This is when we have to explain the never ending game of “stinky pinky” that we play to keep ourselves entertained throughout the work day. The game is pretty simple, pick two words that rhyme and then think of synonyms for them and then the rest of the crew has to guess what the words or the stinky pinky are. Probably reminds you of some game you played in middle school but this game has already entertained us for hours while we’ve been clearing trails and planting shrubs. When it’s been cold and rainy and everyone still has to work for a couple more hours, stinky pinky has been to the rescue, bringing our crew some much needed humor. The game can be catchy too; we’ve sucked in other participants into it, ranging from members of the youth crew to members of the forest service.
If you’d asked me a month or two ago if I would have seen my future self perched on a mountain side trying to figure out the answer to someone’s stinky pinky, my answer would have undoubtedly been no. But this last month for everyone in the MCC has been one of new experiences. There’s been the new job, new cities, new friends, new co-workers, new skills; the list of “news” could be endless. But I think that is a huge part of why we have all come to be working for the MCC; to be able to have this opportunity for all these new experiences

Recipe for a Successful Montana Conservation Corps Hitch - Molly Katolas, NRock

2010-06-28T07:51:00.000-07:00

(not limited to this list)
7 willing and eager individuals
7 tents with working rainflys (crucial)
7 sleeping bags and sleeping pads
7 toothbrushes with toothpaste
Carhartt(s) and MCC labeled shirt(s)
Ability to sleep through minor earthquake
7 daypacks with pulaski-attaching straps
Personal Protection Equipment (PPE) including hardhat, eyewear, and work gloves
57 pairs of wool socks (approximately)
Enough carbs to feed a small country, mainly bagels and sliced bread
A fully functioning rig
Functioning rain gear

1. Meet all willing and eager individuals at the crack of dawn with backpacks and personal items including, but not limited to, tent, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, daypack, and toiletries. In the case of the toothbrush, it may be necessary to keep it on your person at all times. This will avoid the extremely rare case of it being taken back into town with one of your crewmembers midway through the hitch. Yes, it has happened. 5 days without a toothbrush can be equated to 5 grumpy mornings.

2. Drive for anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours to the work destination. The ability to sleep through a minor earthquake will come in handy here, as it is not unlikely to be driving down dirt roads with many potholes.

3. Wear all Personal Protection Equipment (PPE) and carry pulaskis, pick mattocks, loppers, bowsaw, pole saw, rock bar, and chainsaw to the worksite and begin work. A knowledge of many word games will come in handy at this point, especially if lopping for extended amounts of time. It may also be appreciated to know sing-along songs. However, it is not recommended to sing catchy pop songs out loud, as getting an annoying song stuck in the heads of your crewmembers is not appreciated.

4. During work, it may be necessary to wear your functioning rain gear. The key word here is functioning. No one wants to work in wet Carhartts. Don't bother trying not to get dirty. It will happen. Embrace it. Also, buy a lot of socks and change them daily to refrain from obtaining blisters.

5. Upon returning to the campsite, set up camp and prepare a dinner better than any you would make on a given night back home. These dinners tend to be stir-fry, trail pizza, or chili (to name a few), utilizing fresh vegetables and fruit. Ramen noodles are unacceptable. If possible, add cheese to anything being made. This practice may lead to 10 pounds of cheese being eaten by a crew in 10 days. Also, attempt to make a dent in the exorbitant amount of carbs bought for the trip.

6. Retire to your tent for bed at approximately 8:00 pm. Read a book, listen to music, and fall asleep in order to repeat the process again.

Optional additions:
Deodorant- Old Spice Swagger is recommended, but not necessary
10 pounds of a variety of cheeses
Flannel and beard, if possible (this will create a true mountain-esque appearance)
Bandana to absorb the mass amounts of sweat that will be released during work
Note: It is essential to have a fully functioning rig on front-country hitches to avoid the predicament of a 200-300 pound bear hang with rummaged materials. It is also highly recommended to stash a bear hang kit in the rig in case of an emergency such as this. In addition, be aware that it is entirely too possible that it will snow in Montana in June. Keep this in mind when packing and setting up your tent. And, above all else, enjoy yourself!

First Hitch

2010-06-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

Our first 8 day hitch. We set up camp at Dry Creek campground about 45 minutes outside of the town of Thompson Falls.

Most of the time was spent rerouting a trail built by the CCC in the 30's. The trail follows a draw and parts are very steep, our job involved building new trail and adding switchbacks to avoid the steep sections. We ended up brushing, clearing and digging 1700 feet of new trail this hitch.

The ultimate goal is to have the trail be able to be used by both hikers and stock, mostly for elk hunting. We will be working on this trail for the next two hitches, finishing up the switchback section we started then moving on to two shorter sections. Part of the work will be building large cribbing retaining walls to anchor the switchbacks to the side slope and provide a good platform for stock to turn around.

The crew: Jim, Tom, Travis, Me, Vicky, Katie, Ashley.

Travis felling a tree to make way for the trail.

The crew rolling a huge rocky mountain maple root ball off the trail, It took half a day to cut out, there was much rejoicing.

Brand new trail.

Cutting out a stump. It's a lot of work and takes a while. Each one gets it's very own name.

-Kevin Carns, CD CM

The Bear Scare - Devin Kavanagh

2010-06-21T07:29:00.000-07:00

The furry ferocious 500 lb. beast of nature that we commonly associate with terror and helplessness cannot be the bear anymore. Apparently, they keep to themselves when we are around, and just extricate everywhere. Seriously. As a newcomer to the Rocky Mountains, the thought of bears attacking, viscously without remorse of course, quite honestly crossed my mind several times a day while on spike. These thoughtful assumptions came from years of believing that Grizzly bears will floss their teeth with human bones and Black Bears are just plain evolved mutated dinosaurs. Already, only three weeks into the MCC Crew Member season, what I just now named “the bear scare” has become more of a myth to me than blister free work boots!

I wish I could say that I could prove this theory through an awesome story about tag, hide and go seek, and checkers with a Grizz, but my only proof of their endangered existence are the tree trunk scratches and the feces littered camp sights. However, bear stories aren't usually kept untold between crewdren for too long and every story of surviving a bear encounter contradicts the bear scare.

Personally, and undoubtedly for our entire crew as well, our first four day hitch (in the Hungry Horse Ranger District) felt like a burst of excitement, natural wonders and an overwhelming release of anticipation. Speaking for myself on this one, I hadn't realized how anxious the bear scare would make me until my first wilderness journey. As I walked alongside our wise sponsors, I quickly had yanked all of the info they had about bears as soon as possible. Interestingly enough, this specific question that I had brought up out of pure terror is what almost simultaneously led me to my newfound semi-fearlessness of bears. After thinking of an engaging way of bringing it up, I blurted out to our rad sponsor Erich from the Forest Service, “what is the most common misconception of bears out here?” He replied saying, “people see bears as monsters, but this couldn't be farther from the truth. More people die from sheep every year!” The first thing I thought was great, he's joking about it, I am a dead man. But with his personally famous tale of an encounter with a bear, I was soon to be enlightened. It goes roughly as follows. One day, Erich was 20 or so feet from a massive Grizzly. Wisely choosing not to tango with Erich and his weapon of non choice, the hoe dad, the Grizzly crossed paths with Erich, not so much as batting an eye. The war for dominance and ultimate survival was over, or so he had thought. Minutes later, Erich was harassed by a medium sized Grouse. Erich honestly admits his fear of Grouse is close to ten fold of the bear scare,

Spending these last few weeks with amazing people have actually relaxed me about everything including bear attacks, and I am pumped knowing that I can call Kalispell my home and the people I now camp with my crew. I hope being somewhat fearless when it comes to bears will serve me better than the previous contrary, in case my karma from writing this blog catches up to me. Maybe when I actually see a bear, he will look like Smoky or the Sugar Crisp Mascot. There I go again, I better watch my dime for bear. Peace

Aliens: Part One

2010-06-17T11:45:00.000-07:00

ALIENS
Part One, Duh, Duh, Duh!

In many ways the Montana Conservation Corps’ Crews share many similarities with our friends (Hopefully) in the sky. We have came to Idaho a land which we are aliens: We dressed all in green [For the most part anyways], wear clear eye pro which make our eyes seem buggy, our vehicle shoots headlight beams that can make our SUV appear like a flying saucer when it is foggy, we can spread poisonous gas (Meaning: Our farts] that kills acres and acres of crops and we have come in peace.
We are the Green Team or if one will have it; The Green Machine! We have ascended to the Blue Ridge Mountain Trail of Idaho and soon to be entering the Gospel for the entire summer. In our first hitch out of nine we took on adversity with rainy and cold conditions however punctured with a warm welcome. Rainy and cold conditions in the weather including a strike of hail that seized us one afternoon the moment we sat down our tools for the day. Warm however in the welcome that was given to us by the Forest Service Crew of Idaho.
On Tuesday June 8th, 2010 (Two days after the anniversary of D-Day) The Green Machine met in the morning with Forest Service Crew’s boss of bosses; Josh in a stretch circle. Josh is what every man wants to be and what every woman looks for in a man. Josh’s appearance is that of Brad Pitt from Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Bastards but bulkier. Josh has smooth blue eyes, a wisdom and sureness to his voice that internalize anyone around him where they can feel safe and are assured that they are in for a good day’s labor. As a part of Josh’s safety monologue he incorporated, “If you get to cold and too wet, let me know and I’ll get a fire started for you; keep you warm.”
The evening before Wednesday Josh welcomed us with the best gift you can ever give an MCC crew; a flat bed of refined wood logs to carry a half mile up a mountain. “I thought about getting some horses together to haul up these logs but then I thought manual labor builds good character, now get to work.”
The following day in our first real day of work the Green Machine set out to plant water bars. We dug up a quarter foot of dirt to rest in the logs so they could still remain firm in the trail and dug drains around the water bars (At a 90 degree angle) so water would have a place to run off.
Everyday was a challenge. Most of our crew caught terrible colds making the psychical work tougher.
For the bulk of the work, the crew constructed a rock wall. The crew dug heavy rocks out of the ground and sometimes hauled the works across great distances to meet up with Paul (MCC Crew Leader), Noel (Forest Service Technical Advisor) and Peter (Forest Service Crew Leader) so they could construct they’re rock wall. The crew’s other half (Jen and Ashton) constructed a crib wall which is similar to a rock wall only made from wood.
At night time the crew shared hearty warm meals and good company amongst one another, never a dispute however never a dull moment. Ever now and then a few or more crew member would walk a few feet away form our camp site to the forest service crew’s camp to join and enjoy the fire that they would welcome us to.
The crew also accomplished building new trail and rehabbing old trail. We left the Blue Ridge Mountain trail just as the weather had turned to heavy snow fall.
For this hitch the crew learned they’re own personal endurances and they’re own limits. We hope to push our standards next time to not only make us better crew members but as better people in general.
-Trevor Lyons Dietz
June 17th, 2010.

introductions

2010-06-16T13:34:00.000-07:00

Nine days, eighty one hours, four soggy socks later, and I want to be back in the woods already. the bumbling mess big society is makes helps me appreciate how my crew members interact. not only do we help each other get through potentially rough projects but the atmosphere we create, provides for a great work environment. we each have many things to learn from one another and 6 months doesn't even seem like enough time for it all. The framework that the MCC provides is teaching me in ways i've always needed to improve. This hitch overall was an interesting introduction to the area we'll be working and living in. I'm glad we got to meet the forest, park, firefighting and volunteer service people, I look forward to getting to know them and what their jobs entail. A firefighter named Alec, gave me a pretty good idea of what a lifestyle of forest work looked like. Each day I see a new aspect of how things work, and it helps me help others help me, if you know what I mean. Five days off almost seems like too much.
-Ryan Gage, CD CM

Virgina City

2010-06-09T15:11:00.001-07:00

Virginia City

May 7, 2010
we took a step back into history on this day
way back to the 1800s
the setting, Virginia City
upon arrival we set ourselves up in the ghostly motel
Bonanza Inn
anticipating anything in the dark, wee hours of the night
we roamed the streets learning of the families who once thrived in this
bustling town
we heard story upon story of encounters with these spirits who still hold on to their
earthly homes
we explored buildings and homes all the while an eerie feeling lurking as though
we were being watched from eyes unseen
we worked our hands in between learning and exploring
clearing trail, clearing branches pulling weeds
all the while learning the value of working outdoors
and for the good of all
we learned of hangings that took the lives of 24 town folks
we learned of the deaths of young and old from
mining accidents, murder, and epidemics of the time
we roamed the sweet peaceful cemetery that
lay atop a hillside overlooking the city
we learned more about the mining boom that made the city
and how it slowly faded away leaving this small town
to fade away into history, leaving behind
old creaking buildings full of history, ghosts and exploration waiting to be had

“You know what’s in there? Shhh….. Can you hear it? That’s history!” Harry stone, Val Hingson, Martha Knox 2010

Herron Park - Paul Wachur

2010-06-09T14:05:00.001-07:00

The Experience - Dylan Barbash

2010-06-09T08:59:00.000-07:00

This is blog is about my first experience yielding a chainsaw and using it to fall a tree. One of the most terrifying, exciting, and adrenaline rushing experiences of my life. I was inspired to write this narrative on the ride to the first day of trails training.

You approach the being hesitant but excited. It has power that must be recognized. Its going to do what it wants to do so its better to work with it than fight it. It is stubborn even in death, it will hold on to the last remains of life until it is consumed by fire, pushed by the wind, or ignited by lightning. Such a stubborn beast is hard to manipulate. You size up the scene to see if there are hidden dangers or booby traps. Evaluate the being and see which way it wants to go, feel it to tell how much life is left. All the while the beast looks down at you with speculative eyes, asking what you are doing, why are you bothering me? You approach with your machine, a device that is dangerous in and of itself. It needs to be yielded carefully and precisely. You tear away at the stubborn life force that is within. Cutting away at both sides, needing to be precise because even in death this beast can play tricks on you, maybe taking its revenge with a malicious twist. You continue on hoping that you have been precise enough and evaluated the being correctly. You hear cracking and walk away to see this life force drain from the being in its elegant but forceful fall through the foliage. You have done it, fallen the beast and come out the victor. But there is always next time and the next being may be more resistant to your demands and could fall you instead.

Selway, What is your Bearing? - Valerie Hingston

2010-06-09T08:43:00.000-07:00

On April 13th, 2010 the Western Wildlands region of Missoula headed out on route 12 west towards the Selway Bitterroot Wilderness in Idaho. All field crew and youth crew leaders made it out on this particular trip. After one night of car camping close to the Fenn Ranger Station we packed up camp and the Youth Crew Leaders lead a discussion about bear identification and safety. Although we didn’t see a bear on this particular trip, it was important for all leaders to become informed and aware about the possibilities of encountering bears in the backcountry. As the clouds cleared away with the rigs all packed up we drove down the road while dodging deer and looking for the Race Creek Trailhead. The theme of this trip was called, “Backcountry Training,” and into the backcountry we went.

The night before had been cold and wet, but the following day brought about a plentiful amount of sunshine and warmth. Before hitting the trail, a MCC alumni named Julie whom so graciously accompanied us into the backcountry, led a discussion on hiking in groups and the importance of compass and map use. All leaders became acquainted with the use of maps and then around 11 am we began our hike. Our region was split up into two groups, which each had separate campsites to minimize the impact on the land. Both crews hiked along the same trail, which was parallel to the Selway River. The trail was in great condition and it harvested the first few signs of flower blossoms and re-vegetation. One of our leaders; Mack was returning to his home in the woods, where last year he had spent five months during the immersion crew. He was able to provide insight and history on the area in order to better inform the other leaders about the wilderness in which we were traveling. Crew A hiked in four miles to the Renshaw Creek campsite and Crew B hiked in two additional miles to the Cupboard Creek campsite. Due to the split in the two groups, it is hard to say exactly what Crew B did once they arrived at Cupboard, but it is probable that the logistical experiences were mirror images of one another.

The sunshine sustained itself throughout the late afternoon and into the evening, making camp set up an enjoyable lesson. Julie and Mike facilitated a discussion in proper camp set up and how to execute the process. Leaders split into pairs of two and three in order to scout the camp and determine where to place a latrine, bear hang, sump, kitchen, sleeping area, and a fire. Afterwards, each group was responsible for educating the other leaders about the logic behind their station set up. Bruce followed up our station set up with a lesson on stove maintenance. The most important lesson learned here was, “When in doubt, hit your stove on a rock and always check your stove before heading out on hitch.” As the sun crept away, we enjoyed ourselves down by the river’s edge, and the day was topped off with a delicious meal of quinoa and vegetables.

Wednesday brought about a new burst of energy. We were leaving our camp site and heading upstream to Cupboard Creek campsite to reunite with Crew B. With day packs on and a lunch packed we prepared ourselves for a day hike and educational segments. Upon arrival to the other crew’s camp, we were greeted with smiles and excitement. After a brief break, Drew entertained us by discussing wolves and wilderness management in the shape of a court room debate. All members seemed more informed about the issue and interested. Jena followed up Drew’s presentation with a lesson on Tree Identification. Having studied Resource Conservation at the University of Montana, Jena did an incredible job at teaching all leaders how to identify and categorize different types of trees. With the completion of our educational segments and now having only a half day to hike, work with maps and return back to camp; all leaders ate lunch on the beach and then set out into two hiking groups. The heat continued to rise as leaders set out on a steep short hike in search of an open spot, with plenty of views of surrounding peaks. Once this quintessential location was discovered, Julie led a compass and map lesson on location identification, bearings, and triangulation. The hope at this point was that all leaders would feel rather confident in their abilities to re-orient themselves when misplaced in the backcountry. It’s safe to say that this goal was attained. Upon completion of our lesson, we slide down the pine needle filled trail to Cupboard Creek, where we “picked up” our leader Lina who unfortunately had been sick that afternoon. The sun continued to scorch our faces and newly exposed skin as we meandered back towards Renshaw Creek campsite. Our return was going smoothly when one of our fellow leaders went missing. No one believed that Mack could have gone missing seeing that he was back in his second home in the Selway, but adventuring out into the brush in order to take care of an emergency bathroom situation turned into a dire scenario (although previously planned). Luckily Mack had left his MCC manual behind, which allowed our Crew to successfully plan and implement a search party. Moral of the story: Always bring your MCC manual; even on day hikes. Also, even the most educated leaders can fall victim to the woods. When the lost leader was relocated and safe, we continued our hike back down to our campsite. While pressed for time, one leader made a delicious pasta meal while two YCLs (Val and Harry) gave a lesson on Scats and Tracks. Education and food combined into one always makes for a good time.

That night leaders congregated around the campfire to enjoy story telling and stargazing. After only a few days, the prospect of returning to Missoula was both exciting and disappointing. Working outside of town was both exhilarating and refreshing. It’s just a glimpse at what crew leaders and members have to look forward to this summer and fall. Mr. Sandman graced the leaders with his presence that night by providing sleep, stars, a river led orchestra, and warm spring air to sleep in. Morning came quick and camp clean up did as well. We were well rested, packed and ready to return to the rigs. A four mile hike out and we reunited once again with other Crew B. Short debriefs followed while sitting on the grassy fields at the Fenn Forest Service Station. All leaders were content with their backcountry experience; especially for the one leader who had never backpacked before (Lina). The return to Missoula was filled with warm air blowing through the car windows, an eclectic array of music, and a snowball fight on the border of Idaho and Montana. There are more adventures to come, but we’ll just have to wait.

I’m a first time blog user: Over and Out.

Immersion - Eric Milliken

2010-06-09T08:35:00.000-07:00

When I was seventeen I participated in my organizations first Alaskan backpacking expedition, forty two days in the furthest north mountain range in the world. It was forty two days of only seeing my group, a float plane pilot, and two days in a Nunavut community. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, the isolation, the sheer length of our endeavor, the mosquitoes, coming face to face with a well fed Grizzly… When I look back on it, almost nine years later, I don’t remember the stress, or the homesickness, I remember the most rugged, beautiful, amazing experience of my life.

Immediately after returning home, I began making plans for thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. I have wanted to do it since I was five, and my first wilderness experience in the Boundary Waters. However, as my ideals confronted reality, my AT plans became week long backpacking trips around my new home in Bozeman. I came to accept that my “Great Alaskan Adventure” will probably be the most remote, intense wilderness experience of my life.

Then came the summer of 2009; I was working in an unrewarding, high paying job. I took a couple weeks off in the end of May and drove to the southwest. After spending too much time in Las Vegas, I decided to get in my car and I drove to Yosemite for the first time.

I was out of my car in Yosemite for about one hour.

When telling this trip’s story to friends I either omit that part, or justify it by saying I needed to be in San Francisco the next day. The truth is I had totally lost connection with what I used to love. I was also too out of shape to enjoy hiking in the mountains. I went to San Francisco, caught a giants game, then started driving home up to Sacramento. I caught the sunset at Lake Tahoe. I was overwhelmed. I was saddened, that I had never been to such a beautiful place so close to Bozeman, and that I no longer did what I used to find so important and fulfilling.

When we were in Alaska we flew up from Minneapolis with a female group from a competing program. They where going to the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve we were going to Gates of the Arctic. They executed the long practiced tradition of “stealthing”, that is hiding stuff in our food or group gear that we won’t find until we are in the wilderness and cannot get rid of it. They hid about 8 different colors of nail polish. We had a quote that kept getting repeated throughout our trip, “Through challenge I find growth, Through growth I find myself” . We ended up using that nail polish to paint our bear proof canisters. That quote ended up on one of them, along with our addendum Through Uno we waste time.

I was sitting on the shore of Lake Tahoe, remembering that quote, and realized that I needed to effect positive change in my life. I drove the last eight hours or so to Bozeman while making grandiose AT and PCT plans, that had no root in reality. I finally told myself that at least when I got home I would look in to outdoor jobs and apply to at least one. So in that sleep deprived morning around 6 am I found MCC on the internet and filled out an application. When I woke up that afternoon I had an email from Jen asking for an interview time, and a day or two later I was hired.

I spent last summer working and living in the mountains. I was working an eight on six off Yellowstone schedule. Every free day I had, I spent on backpacking trips in the Beartooths, Wind Rivers, and Tetons. The first month or so was hard for me, my body was not in shape for the demands I was placing on it. But I was still mentally tough and I got through it. I went from getting heat cramps every day, to actually enjoying the ten hour work day and spent the rest of the season in a very pure form of happiness.

I have come a long way since that late night in Tahoe. I again get to participate in a first for a program. I am going to be co-leading Greater Yellowstone’s first wilderness immersion crew. We are going into the Frank Church Wilderness in Idaho, which is the biggest wilderness unit in the lower 48. We will be out for 70 days, off for a week and then back in for 56 more. After this summer, the longest trip of my life will barely make the podium.

After finding a comfort again with the wilderness, MCC has given me a way to connect again with the outdoors. My emotions have ranged from excited, to terrified, and everything in between. The list of things to do is piling up and the amount of time to accomplish it is now under a month. But I have a solid foundation and an amazing co-leader.

I don’t expect our season to be smooth or easy. In fact I expect conflict, hot weather, and long days. But the amazing thing is when you go into something knowing it will be hard, and you do it anyways, the rewards will be immense.

It is one of my goals to document our season through a crew blog with as many voices as want to participate. Although it will be hand written, and the mailed entries won’t make it on the internet for months, I think it will be valuable both as a reflection tool for us, and as a way to find the good in every situation.

With more to follow soon(ish)

Disturb the land the way it would disturb itself - Alisa Hoven

2010-06-08T14:31:00.000-07:00

Over the last month and a half, a handful of MCC leaders from Eastern Wildlands have set out to get their hands dirty and their minds full of new ideas. Yes, this is in addition to the daily dedication we have made to MCC. Our strong work ethic and good attitude have been given freely to Danly Farms, the only organic farm in Yellowstone County. The farmers, Mary and Barbara, have opened up their land for us to continue our commitment to service and community outside of the MCC world, even if it’s just in Laurel…..a close 20 mile drive from downtown Billings. With just under five acres, the well designed farm produces vegetables, grapes, hops and even enough space for an old boxcar full of chickens.

In the last weeks, we have helped in various projects; laying out the lining for the onion beds, building a compost pile, digging a trench for an irrigation system, anchoring down 25 ash trees, preparing mini metal greenhouses for the fields and weeding the many nooks and crannies where weeds are most resilient. The MCC crew leaders have gained a lot more than a signed volunteer form; we have gained a valuable relationship with two wise women who have shared so freely their philosophy and love for the land.

As they neared retirement age, Mary and Barbara decided to live their passions fully and learn to grow their own food in a natural way. They expressed that the organic food movement may be the most important issue surrounding the sustainability of both the earth and our bodies. When I asked these farmers what their philosophy of the land was, they replied with “Disturb the land the way it would disturb itself.” That means working with the land, taking care of it so that it can decide its own natural development. So, these farmers spend a lot of time weeding and growing their patience as they do to their vegetable beds.

Through their philosophy, I am reminded of our own commitment to the land so that it continues to grow stronger. We have been given so many opportunities this season to look at the landscape before us and determine our impact on it. We might build a trail so others can enjoy it without getting lost, or we might sand down a boardwalk so people can go see a famous signature on an old rock (without getting a splinter in their finger). Or we might cut down burned up trees from a backyard so the fire, when it comes again, doesn’t do as much damage as it has in the past. We might dig a latrine so that our “mark” on the land is a little less visible and available to plant and wildlife. We might inspire youth to pick up trash or rather pick up a backpack and enter the woods.

Regardless, through our work with MCC, we are always asked to explore our impact, physically and emotionally on the landscape of this great state of Montana. Examining our impact on this earth is not just something MCC asks of us, it is what we should be asking of ourselves on a daily basis through our personal relationships. Spending time with these two inspirational women has given me a better understanding how the organic movement can be a part of that process. I understand what it takes to stand firmly behind this movement, even if you are actually on your knees weeding out the asparagus patch all afternoon.

Reunion - Adam Tew

2010-06-07T14:02:00.000-07:00

After a week of unendurable separation the field crew leaders of Northern Rockies returned to Kalispell for a reunion and a week of trails training in nearby Herron State Park. Adding to the significance of the occasion was the presence of Clifford Kipp, head honcho of the Northern Rockies region, who stepped away from the office for a brief moment to demonstrate, despite all other indication and popular belief, that he is able to swing a tool (and well?). Following a quick recovery from collective shock and succinct instruction by regional staff the field crew leaders quickly set to cutting new trail designed to replace an unsustainable user-created trail that had quadrupled in width in less than five years. Four day later after scarifying the soil and piling slash on the corridor the decommissioning of the old trail was finished and the overall reroute project met its final completion.
Our second week brought another round of separation as the other field crew leaders (Laurent, Sarah(s), Paul, Elaine, Casey) traveled to Glacier National Park for work in a greenhouse. While they were sheltered from the elements we returned to Herron Park for more trail construction under the leadership of Daniel “The Law” Ward and Hanna Hopkins, our co-leading pair of the week. Weather was inclement following a cloudy Monday, not truly breaking until Friday offered a reprieve from the precipitation and gusting wind. But accompanying us for the (not so) pleasant weather earlier in the week were the field crew leader from Central Divide, a quality group of guys and gals that helped us knock out the almost half-mile of newly constructed trail. The crew progressed well in terms of our trail building abilities despite the challenges presented by the muddy, sloppy conditions. Additionally, any slip in morale or crew productivity was quickly dashed against the rock that is Daniel “The Law” Ward. Frequently during our stint in Herron Park, users on the trails expressed an appreciation for our work that seemed almost disproportionate to the labor we provided, a poignant reminder of how contributory our work for the community can really be.

GNP Centennial - Zoe Zulakis

2010-06-07T14:00:00.000-07:00

Glacier National Park was not born in 1910. Some billion to million years ago it was covered by inland seas, and romped by dinosaurs. It was thrust upward by what we theorize today to be a collision with a micro continent that no longer exists and then carved away by the meticulous fingers of icy glaciers. Glacier National park was not born in 1910. It was the spiritual home of the many people who came before the US government drew its lines; the Blackfeet, the Salish, the Kootenai, the Pend Oreille. Glacier National Park was not born in 1910. 1910 is merely a year that happened 100 years ago. This incredible parcel of land will itself rise and fall with the tide of the tectonic plates. In the great epics and eras that this world has yet to see, our title to 100 years of ownership, will not be long remembered.
So at the centennial celebration of plotted lines, we must clear our mind of entitlement. We are stewards of this beautiful place, the crown of this great continent where we live, but which is not ours. So we must take stock of our role as caretakers of the land. When the conservationists, Gifford Pinchot, and Teddy Roosevelt, secured 180 million acres of land in the famous “midnight reserves,” of 1906, their impetus was not to secure timber harvests from our national forests. When William Howard Taft signed legislation, on May 11, 1910, protecting Glacier National Park, it was not to carve dizzying roads, through the hearts of our National Parks. It was to “ensure that the people in 2010 would have a country of clean water, healthy forests, and open land…” (The Big Burn, Eagan, p. 138). It was for the future, so that tomorrow could appreciate a brief glimpse of what yesterday had, untouched and undamaged.
In the 100 years since, our woods have been eaten away by acid rain; our water systems damaged by toxic wastes of abandoned mines; our bodies corrupted by exposure to chemical and nuclear wastes; our glaciers (125 of them in Glacier National Park alone) disappearing. On the day in the very near future, when Glacier National Park runs out of Glaciers, the world will know. And assuming that the oil spill will no longer be at the forefront of the nation’s attention, this new (or not so new) crisis will hold us captive. So, are we doing our job? Are we being good stewards of the land? Are we proud?
One hundred years ago, Glacier National Park was not born. It was, however, put aside as one of the last remaining gems of this country. We will never own Glacier National Park, we will never own any parcel of land. It will never be ours to keep. It belongs to the past, and it belongs to the future. We have a responsibility to both. We owe it to our predecessors to keep fighting, as Pinchot would have described it, “the alliance between business and politics…the snake that we must kill.” We owe it to our future- the land, the animals, the water, the trees, the people- to make it seem as though we have never been here; to disappear quietly, just as the majestic mountains sink into the humble valleys.

Sleep

2010-06-07T10:44:00.000-07:00

I am not a morning person. Through my high school and college days, I would wake up about fifteen minutes before class started, roll out of bed, keep the same clothes on that I fell asleep in the night before, and show up. I was pretty consistent when it came to grumbling about hunger, rearing a smile in hopes that my cheeks would wrinkle away an encrypted bed face, and zoning out for the first five minutes of class on the prison paste blue walls. I never really savored the superimposed ideal of rising with bitter coffee, a freshly prepared breakfast, or dedicating patience for yoga. My last roommate did all that jazz, but after living with me for less than a month, that changed. He too became at ease with a stop motion morning. It just seemed logical to suck the very last minute of a night’s rest for all it was worth, even if it was to hit the snooze and watch the red lines adjust five more digits.
My life as an Undergrad ended about four weeks ago, with a piece of paper that promised my degree would be in the mail, and since then my life has been a smudge of birth, states, and sunsets. I returned home to welcome my twenty-second year, drove across the country with my dad to settle on a place to live, and started work with the MCC. I was overwhelmed. So much had changed in my life that my mind simply could not process or reflect upon all of the movements. I felt the world passing as if riding in a car with the windows down. The wind flickers over eyelids, barely open, just enough to take everything in, but still the images come in waves. There’s so much to look forward to, but so much to absorb at the same time.
The first day of work with the MCC was May 24th and that is when my polished concept of a morning started to mold into something new. I could not fall asleep for two hours after laying down and I woke up a half hour before my alarm, on top of the four or five times I woke up during the in between. At first, I figured I was just jittery about being on time and making a good first impression, so for the first day, this behavior was understandable. However, it has been like that everyday since, even on the weekends. The only plausible reason I can trace this to would be just pure excitement about work and what’s to come. I have definitely had my fair share of jobs and most of them have been awesome experiences, but this is radically different from anything I have ever been a part of.
My first event of real camping was this past week when the whole Central Divide Region went up to Sluice Boxes State Park for our first overnight. I’ve been camping before, but most of which on a hotspot rock overlook in eastern Kentucky. We would climb up at sunset, stare for hours as the stars formed the Milky Way, and fall asleep amongst the silhouettes of Appalachia. After the first night of sleeping out by myself in a tent at Sluice Boxes, I lay awake and wondered if the reason we went up to the overlook was for the view or the state of mind. There’s something about being outdoors that provides a sense of relief, a cleansing that cannot be replicated. Again, I found myself jolting awake several times in fear of being late for our first breakfast as a crew. When I crawled out of my tent I had plenty of time to spare. I stood up for my vertical stretch of the morning, only to collapse in the rising sun. The gold slipped through the breeze, the parting of trees, and rigid crevasses only to become part of the waking world. As the cliffs’ shadows chased away, the birds’ commentary revealed that this is morning. Perhaps this is what my body has been longing for, the dawn to a fresh state of mind and the opportunity to greet each morning in awe. Maybe we’re all here for the same morning wake up with this new life as part of the Montana Conservation Corps. We’re all stretching, welcoming the break of day with each other. I may not be a morning person now, but I can already feel that starting to change inside of me.

Casey Simpson – Central Divide

1st two weeks

2010-06-07T10:37:00.000-07:00

Before I came out to Montana, I told myself over and over that I was not joining the MCC to make friends. I was here to work hard in a field I hoped to make my career, and to develop personally as well as professionally. I intended to focus the whole of my energy on the work at hand while doing something I loved- living in backcountry while swinging a pulaski. Working closely with crewmembers was a consequence of this work, and becoming close to them was necessary to effectively complete the projects before me. It didn't take two people to hold an ax.
When I finally met my fellow crewmembers, I was intimidated- I knew that they had come out here for the same reasons; to develop commitment, personal and professional discipline, to grow as individuals. They didn't need me, I- like the pulaski- was a tool for building trails, for development and preservation. I was intimidated simply by the fact that they were here to work- because I had never worked as hard as I expected my crewmembers would be working, and I would have to match my strength to theirs. I was scared that I would be unable to do this, and that I would be alone in the woods, trying to figure out how to be as strong as these people.
However, my outlook changed once I learned the story of the pulaski tool. Pulaski was a wilderness firefighter whose crew had been caught in such an intense fire that they had to retreat to a cave, with no reliable exit through the burning woods. He had to not only held his crew at gunpoint in the cave to keep them safe, but he had to invent a tool in order to make a safe passage for himself and his crew. It was in the very fire that held them captive in which he forged the tool to take them to safety.
I heard this and immediately I saw that the people surrounding me, though I did not yet know them, were the closest friends I had. I knew that beyond being tools to my development, they were the support system and instruments of learning that I would use to not only build trails, but connections with my community. In fact, they were my community. They had, indeed, joined the MCC for the same reasons I had- to do a service, to relinquish ego and selfish pride and to work. No, they did not need me to do the work, but without me, the work would be nearly impossible, impassable. I did not need them- but if I wanted to become a good worker, an effective citizen and community member, I needed a community and fellow citizens. We all came here to do work- and we all came here to work together.
I knew that we were here now to build the paths that would lead us to each other. We would be developing trails to our futures, and pathways into each others lives, as both comrades in arms for preservation, but also the very teachers who would help me learn who I was, by being the mirror, the example, the citizens whose common goals would bring us together tighter than friends. The fires of apathy and fear had sequestered us together, and we were now forced to forge the tools to help each other find the path. Without this fear, without this necessity, we would have never found each other, we would never learn, never grow as individuals, and escape the darkness of uncertainty. We were all here to do the same work, and without one another, this work can not get done. Without the bond of crewmembers, we cannot grow as individuals. It is in the challenge and support of these individuals that I would find the strength to do this work. Without their example, without their knowledge, I would not be able to find my path, because it is the same path we are all on. One of us has the flashlight, one has the batteries, one has the pulaski, another, the mcloud. It is in darkness and fire that we found each other, and it is as a result of this darkness and fire we are forced to come together to build the path. And it is this common path, this common journey that will build a more valuable connection than the connection to ourselves- it is in the compassion to ourselves that we decide to let go of fear and come together and find compassion for others.
-H Israel Ziskind, MCC Corpsmember 2010

Dear Montana - Andrea Martin, EW YCL

2010-05-06T11:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Montana,

I want to preface this note with the request that you please, please stop snowing. It is May. In my home state of Oregon it is most likely raining, but I'm sure I wouldn't need to scrape my windshield at 9am.

That said, I am grateful for the fact that you are always unpredictable, as well as those (rare) gorgeous days when your big blue sky seems to take over everything. It is those moments when I am so, so thankful that I decided to be poor with few possessions in Billings. There are of course the moments when the wind gusts reach 60 mph, and I wake up to snow and ice and the promise of 10 days of tech training and freezing in my tent. Oh, Montana. In addition to keeping me on my toes weather-wise, my last 2 months with you have taught me a lot.

1.) Everything Is a Matter of Expectations.
On my first "hitch" with my fellow Youth Crew Leaders in Pompey's Pillar, we were all a little disappointed when our week-long planting project became 1.25 days of planting before running out of plants, and then became, in order, picking up sticks (no joke) installing plastic protective "fences" around our small plants (in time for a huge windstorm that most likely blew them all away...) and then sanding and weatherizing the boardwalk up to the top of the pillar. Eight straight hours of sanding a handrail is even less exciting than it sounds.
However, when you work with incredible, motivated, hard working, fun loving people (which I currently do) nothing is ever so bad. The Eastern Wildlands Youth Crew Leaders came out of a pretty dull project feeling proud of our efforts of give our all (and more) to an unfortunate situation. I suppose always having the expectation to work hard and have fun no matter what will never leave you disappointed.

2.) Acting Like a Child Is Sometimes All it Takes.
While undergoing multiple trainings, discussion about literally everything, challenging partnerships, as well as that feeling that no matter what you'll never really be prepared for the summer, it can be difficult to keep a sense of humor or even your eyes open without 7 cups of coffee. Thank you Americorps, MCC, and whoever and whatever else decided that playing incredibly childish games would be good for people's energy level. I would add that they are good for the soul.
Back in Pompey's Pillar, while waiting for our sponsor in the frigid morning hours, The Greater Yellowstone YCLs introduced my fellow EW YCLs to a new game called Warrior. It may be entirely impossible to explain the game, which involves pretending to be a ninja and screaming like an idiot, but I can say that I have never laughed to hard in my life.

3.) The Hardest Work Can Be Entirely In Your Own Head
Last week, the last week of April, all of MCCs YCLs met up for the second time at Camp Mak-A-Dream to do more leadership training, as well as meet Wild Bill and Lady Louise for 2 days of Wilderness First Aid. While going through leadership training, we discussed teaching styles, dynamics of group development and conflict resolution styles. We also had the opportunity to talk A LOT with our co-leaders about all of these things. During our talks, I got the feeling that all of my styles of doing everything were viewed as the wrong way of acting.
At the end of the week, I simply couldn't discuss what I viewed as "how much I suck at my MCC life" and was exhausted and frustrated. Of course, my frustration with talking, begot more talking, where my co and SYCL were able to point out how much my own insecurities about my styles were coloring my perception of others.
After working with difficult teens in partnerships, doing projects in the snow, wind and rain, and driving from Oregon to Montana in 1 day, I can say the most challenging week of MCC was at Camp Mak-A-Dream, inside my own head.

4.) Food Shopping in Super Wal-Mart Will Make You or Break You
I try not to frequent Wal Mart for multiple reasons, not least of which is that it is always the most crowded place in the entire world. For our Pompey's Pillar hitch, our SYCL, Bre, set us four YCLs loose with $200+ to buy food for the week. We had our list, as well as a calculator, but we had no idea what we were doing. We had unknowingly stepped into the perfect storm of Wal Mart shopping. Not only was it a Saturday, but it was also the first Saturday of April, meaning everyone in the entire city of Billings, MT had just been paid/received food stamps and were out in droves. It took us 10 minutes to find a parking spot in the very back of the massive lot. We then spent the next 2 hours negotiating shopping cart traffic in the store. I have found Montana and Billings to be pretty friendly places, but in Wal Mart it was eat or be eaten. We had to push our way through crowds to get the salsa, canned beans, pasta sauce and goldfish crackers we desperately needed. While pushing the cart I proceeded to have a mini breakdown, Dylan, my co, accidentally cleared the calculator screen, and had a breakdown of his own, Chris, unable to handle the pressure, disappeared for about 10 minutes and came back eating a donut. Alisa was the only one who kept her mental health in check until we reached the check out, loaded up approximately 29 bags of food, and headed out to the rig. With frayed nerves, we all agreed that we were eternally grateful we didn't have to do that alone.

5.) There is Always Room.
Room to improve, room in your day pack for one more thing, room in your stomach for that last scoop of pasta, room on top of the rig to fit 3 wheelbarrows, a chainsaw and dolmar, 7 metal rakes, 8 mcleods, 5 shovels, and 10 pairs of lapers. My spatial reasoning skills need a little work. I still do not have the ability to comprehend how 8 people and their gear, 4 weeks of food, tools for 4 weeks of projects and a positive attitude can fit into one Suburban. Montana, I guess you still have a lot more to teach me. Bring it on.

Hell's Canyon, Idaho - Mack Bohrmann, Western Wildlands

2010-05-05T10:22:00.000-07:00

Day 1 –
Leave Missoula at noon. Arrive in Riggins Idaho for dinner. Arrive at Pittsburgh Landing on the Snake River just after sundown. Most people elect to keep tents packed and sleep on picnic tables. “The only thing we don’t want is wind and rain”. We got both.

Day 2 –
Wake up to see people wrapped in tarp burritos seeking shelter from the elements. First group (crew leaders of the hitch), depart up river on a Jet boat. Remaining crew enters phase II (see appendix 1) of waiting, Mario skunks Mack in cribbage
Boat arrives 2.5 hours later; crew dumbstruck by awesomeness that accompanies going up rapids in a jet boat.
Get dropped off on rocky shoreline ridden with poison ivy.
Hike to campsite and learn than in Idaho, 1 mile = 2.5
Get to our campsite, a defunct homestead and set up camp in the rain.
Day 3 –
In your tent, it sounds like it’s raining harder than it actually is. Begin work day by brushing, mostly poison ivy. Mario leaves for his 25 mile saunter out of the wilderness.

Day 4 –
Begin work on Little Granite creek. Lay foundation for our 4 day relationship with rocks. Today we learned that the bigger the rocks used the less amount is needed. We also learned that all rocks are not created equal. Some break easily while some project glass-like shards. “breaking rocks in the hot sun, I fought the wall and the rock won”
Day 5 –
Begin building what will be five rock walls. Each crew worked on opposite sides of the same creek leading to lots of waving and hand signals to and fro during breaks. When breaks were staggered the resting crew would cheer on the working crew. Begin moving big rocks and backs begin to ache.
Day 6-
More rock collecting. Back aches become back pains. Rocks collected in the afternoon are smaller than rocks collected in the morning
Day 7-
More rock collecting. By this time we have established a solid relationship with both rocks, and the tools used with rocks. Mike, a magician with a rock bar, teaches us advanced rock moving skills. We all hone our rock Austin skills three-fold, at least.
This may come in handy later:
Rate your following skills on a scale of 1-6:
Rock finding – 5, still have yet to find the perfect rock.
Rock Moving – 3 judging by how my back feels, there must be room for improvement.
Digging – 6, I now know where and how to dig a cat hole with a boot maddock

Day 8 –
Finish our rock walls in a deluge of rain. Ubiquitous mud and unrefined jubilation. Jokes told around dinner that only we understand.

Day 9 –
Break down camp. Crew leaders leave of the first boat. Remaining people view petraglyphs, collect morels* (see appendix 1). Mack gets a tarp shower finally giving Lina something to smile about. We wait for the boat and enter phase three of waiting.

Appendix 1
Phases of waiting
1) Idling
2) cribbage
3) sleep - hear false echoes of what you're waiting for (jet boat)
4) digging a cathole/ latrine
5) setting up camp
6) foraging
7) building structures
8) bartering for clothes

Shining, Shimmering, Splendid - Carolan Coughlin, NRock

2010-04-27T14:22:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the weather is wet and cold and miserable and your sleeping bag fails to keep you warm at night and you forget your rainpants and you have a fantastic week because you are so committed to MCC's unofficial statement: Don't be a wuss. It is absolutely neccessary to suffer sometimes during training season so as to be better prepared to help inspire your crew members when they whine about their hardships. "Cold? Cold, you say? Ha. You don't even know."

The high points of the week included working with vibrant Noxon characters, like Shaggy, who convinced us to clean up his adopted stretch of the highway in exchange for a pizza party at the celebrated local pizza joint, the Sneaky Beaver. We also learned a lot from Ken, the forester, whose vast knowledge of local flaura and fauna dominated every conversation. He told us which maps to buy, which trails to hike, where to find the good backcountry skiing, how to tell a White Pine from a Douglas Fir, and to watch out for flying squirrels because sometimes they try to sit on your shoulders.

The hitch ended with apocalyptic weather; black rolling clouds laden with every form of precipitation you can imagine. Big Casey, Eric, Dan and I watched the storm roll over the river with solemnity. The contemplative mood of the evening was excentuated by Dan erupting into song, singing "A Whole New World." The four of us stretched out our arms to the heavy, dark skies, to the smoky Cabinet Peaks, to the churning waters, and recited those holy words together. "A whole new world/ A new fantastic point of view/ Shining, shimmering, splendid."

I used to be somebody, but now I am somebody else - Camille Seed, Expedition 2009

2010-04-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

I was getting packed for a trip that I wasn’t sure what to wear or bring. I was really nervous to leave my family for so long and at first I was very indecisive about it. I couldn’t sleep the whole night and thoughts were scrambling all in my head. I never realized that this trip was going to change my life, until the day I got in a green van. Here is my life changing story.

The first day, we were greeted by our leaders and we all waved as my family drove away. I was shaking at this point, wanting them to come back. I started to meet every one getting a little more comfortable with the new atmosphere. We all piled in the car and started to mingle. There was a long ride ahead of us, meeting everyone and just trying to get all the nerves away. After 3 ½ hours of driving we finally got to our destination.

We all got out and start making camp. This was a reality check for me. I used to have things done for me and now I’m learning how to put a tent up. It took me and my roommate Lisa maybe 7-8 times to finally get the tent up. We were all sitting on the ground talking and playing games. When it was time for dinner, we all helped out which was so cool for me because in my family my mom n dad do dinner and I do dishes. I was scared on what were going to eat and thought it was going to be like all vegetarian foods but we had some of the best food I’ve ever eaten and it was all home made. Our crew leaders were really amazing they were funny and outgoing. They helped us get ready for bed and Lisa and I sat up and talked about our life styles and how we got here and then we fell asleep.

The second day was a lot more interesting. We got up at 7:00 and had breakfast and hiked up this huge mountain to get to our job site to just see what had to be done. I was cold so I wore long sleeve under armor and my Carharts. I found out ten minutes later that was a huge mistake. It took us 2 ½ hours to hike up a 2.7 mile mountain. We got to the top and I just sat there in amazement. It was so beautiful. We were on the highest mountain looking down at little water falls, huge mountains and a whole canyon. I got my camera out and took tons of pictures. Then I started to notice there was A LOT of mosquitoes! I have never seen so many in my life. We were all getting bit and then I got out the spray and handed it down to the rest of the crew. We used a lot of spray.

Our leaders showed us on what work we were going to have to do for the week. It wasn’t so bad -- just some hedging and making trails. We had our lunch on this rock over looking everything. I just could not get over the fact that it was so amazing. We found a fallen tree and cut it into logs also talked about the rules the expectations for us while we ate our sandwiches. When I was packing for this trip I bought a watch and it came in so handy.

Our camp was beside a little creek and we couldn’t wait to cool down and get off all the sweat. Jimmy and Isaac (our leaders) went with us and we all got into this freezing cold creek and sat in there for like 20 minutes to cool off. We got out and ran back to camp and made macaroni and cheese for dinner. It was so good I ate 3 servings! 5 of us stayed up and talked about the day. We were all very different people but we also had so much in common. We looked up at the sky and saw so many stars. It was like a dream. That night was the night of a huge lightning storm. Lightning was striking all around us and we all had to get in the van to get cover. It was so loud and so unbelievable. I was scared at first, but then it just got really cool.

The next day, we had work to do so we got on all of our gear -- backpacks, water bottles, gloves and shovels, and were all ready to go. We started walking up the mountain. I was out of breath 20 minutes in and was thirsty and going slow. It took us almost 3 hours to get to the worksite and I was the third one there. Mosquitoes were everywhere again but the bug spray helped.

In the second week we went to a camp spot On Lake Mary Ronan. This was really different for us because we went from not seeing anyone but our group members to seeing all these campers that have TVs, IPods, and campers, etc. We were smelly and greasy. The work we needed to do was make a trail through this campground. At first it was difficult but then we all got the hang of it and got it done. Two days before we had to leave we had the trail done and looking nice. The hostess was very impressed. So for the next two days we got to sleep in and go swimming. It was so pretty out there with the lake right near us and the sky just shining down on us. This was very memorable to all of us. Our last night was the best …. we all slept outside under the stars when a meteor shower was happening. I really liked how this 2nd week turned out we became a team. This was when all of us started to actually get to know each other and make long life friends.

The third and fourth week work was in Glacier National Park. These are some of my best memories. We got a really nice camp spot and went sight seeing a lot. The work days were spent mostly with the national forest plant nursery. I liked it there; the people were nice and very welcoming. We had a leader teach us about collecting seeds. This was kind of boring but I learned a lot about nature. We went up to the top of the park to collect and store seeds. For a couple of days I learned a lot of names and why plants play a big part in nature.

One day we were picking berry seeds which was very hard because everyone wanted to eat them.  All of the sudden we see a little black bear with her two little cubs, 10 feet away from us! We all stopped and stared and then quietly walked away. It was such a rush I was all hyper and excited. Then a wind storm was starting to act up really fast so we hurried up and left.

We got news that a young boy was on the lake canoeing and he tipped over. Search and rescue came to ask us for help finding him. We got our gear and went on the back side of the lake in an old burned area where there was a fire. The wind was so strong trees were falling down all around us. It was really scary but such a rush. We were calling for the boy. Then finally 8 miles in, the radio called in and said they found the boy so we all scurried out of the forest. I was so happy they found him! When we got back to camp, we were all tired and hungry but we all helped with dinner and dishes. This was the coolest day! Mostly every day at Glacier we would head down to the lake and get all the sweat off. The last days came up so quickly so we said our goodbyes to everyone at the nursery and headed down to see our families.

The next day came quickly to see our families. We hadn’t really talked or seen each other in about month so I was excited. I wasn’t the same girl when I left home. Coming back to my family was exciting. I was a new and improved person. I saw everything in a new way, a new light.

We pulled up to the curb and all of the parents were talking. I looked in the mirror and I just laughed. I got out of the van and my parents ran to give me a hug. We all talked and told stories about our trip and it came to everyone leaving. We all said our goodbyes and I got in the car with my parents. As we were leaving I took off my sweat shirt… that’s when my dad had to stick his head out of the window. Apparently I stunk really bad and my mom sprayed me with a squirt of Fabreeze! We got to a hotel room and I finally took my first shower in a month. It was really cool to get back to my family on my birthday. It was a great present! I told them all about my experience.

My MCC experience changed my life in multiple ways. Before I left for MCC, I never really noticed the small, but important things of nature. I just went day-by-day thinking it was just weeds or just a tree. When I left MCC it was like I got new eyes. I seemed to notice all the little things. With all these new sights and adventures, I started to realize that I have not seen many great things in life because I was blinded.

MCC also helped my leadership skills, by knowing what I can do to help nature be at its best. I realized that nature has so much to offer and that there is still so much to learn about it. That is why I want to do something for the rest of my life, helping out nature and being outside is my life. This program has helped me decide what I want to do for the rest of my life, and how to take precautions and know what to do in bad situations.

I would recommend MCC to any person who likes to be outdoors and wants to help our wildlife.

MHDubbin’ It! - Morning Health Workshop Y'all! - NRock

2010-04-14T09:54:00.000-07:00

Let’s take a moment and time travel, shall we? Take yourself back Tuesday, March 2, 2010 at approximately 6:45 am. I’d imagine you must have been snuggled warm in your sleeping bag while thoughts of pro-deals and Wild Bill ran through your noggin. Sounds luxurious. Now, please imagine that while you were still REMin’ it the folks up here in N.Rock were workin’ it. Decked out in the finest active wear found at the Salvation Army, your fellow crew leaders were MHDubbin’ it. What’s MHDub you question? Morning Health Workshop, of course. Every Tuesday and Thursday we rise before the sun to prepare our temples for what’s to come. Here is a sneak peek into what we do that makes us look so good. Cheers!

WARM UP:
Jump back & forth over line x10
Jump side to side x10
Scissor switch over line x10
Crisscross over line x10
Neck clocks x10
Lunges (fwd to back) x10
Squats x10
Heel to toe raises x10

20 Yards and Back:
1. RUN
2. Walking knee hug
3. Walking quad stretch
4. Straight leg march
5. Skip – Skip – Swoop
6. Shuttle
7. RUN
8. Lateral Lunge
9. Side to Side Swing
10. RUN

WORK OUT:
Set cones in ZIG-ZAG formation 10yds apart
Shuttle sprint x4
Back peddle x4
Shuttle x4
Sprint x4

CORE:
Full sit up
Flutter kicks
Russian sailor
Toe touches
Dying cockroaches
Plank (1 min. Front, L side, R side)

Stretch and Hydrate!

NRock Gets a New Office - Ahmad Bassiri, YCL

2010-04-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

‘Bang, bang, bang’ the hammer drives the nail into the 2x4. Hunched over and smothered with fine white dust covering my new duck brown carhartts, I stand up reaching for the sky to release the tension in my sore vertebrae. I take a deep breathe and ponder over what delicious concoction of a meal I’ll make for dinner tonight….will it be the mac & cheese or the remnants of last nights sour dough pizza….. Suddenly my focus is broken by a deafening cacophony of power tools roaring in the background and by the miscellaneous pings and thuds that pierce my ears. Drops of sweat shimmering on my cheek and streaks of black mud scarring my forehead, I glance furtively behind me only to see my colleagues camouflaged in the same fine white dust-and they’re hard at work brandishing power drills setting up sheet rock.

This construction scene is the site of the new MCC office for the Northern Rockies region. Soon the regional office will leave its former abode in Glacier building situated in downtown Kalispell just off Main street to its new spacious home cradled in the new Gateway Community Center appropriately neighboring socially conscious agencies like the ‘Boys and Girls Club’, ‘United Way’, ‘CASA’ and even a ‘Meals on Wheels’ Cafeteria that has been the talk of the town. New personal offices, a new and improved area for the tool cache, a room equipped with a computer for crew members-even a shower and bath and ample amount of space for much more are many of the luxuries provided by the new headquarters.

Yes, MCC is growing! How fortuitous that I find myself in the midst of MCC’s expansion- embarking towards great new things. This is the biggest season yet for the Northern Rockies region- a record breaking 16 crew leaders! Armed with young eager environmentally friendly troops yielding Pulaskis and shovels, and revitalized with a new mission statement (Montana Conservation Corps inspires young people through hands on conservation service to be leaders, stewards of the land and engaged citizens who improve their communities), MCC is setting itself up for a monumentally huge season seeking to connect young people with local community members. They’re marching in unison towards an epic journey seeking to make a huge contributions and positive change in Kalispell and the surrounding Flathead County.

Bizon! - Paul Twedt, WW

2010-04-13T11:06:00.000-07:00

We were contracted by the National Bison Range. They wanted us to clear game trails that the bison use so wranglers on horseback can drive bison to new grazing areas and down the mountain to the tagging and testing pens.

As we arrived at the Range, we had an overwhelming feeling that we had just entered Jurassic Park. Herds of elk and deer, both whitetail and mule, pronghorn and bison, all of epic proportions, were around every bend in the road. We had entered a truly wild place, and we all knew it. The National Bison Range is home to a herd of between three and five hundred bison, depending on the time of year. We took a break to stretch our legs from the drive and meet our sponsors at the Visitor's Center where we had a chance to look around and learn more about the area and the animals that resided there. Tim, our project sponsor/liaison, and Pat Jamieson of the NBR addressed questions of ours and took the chance to give us the details of our project. They lined us out on where we were to clear trails and the importance of clearing the most heavily used trails first because the wranglers were going to be herding the bison toward the end of the week while we were working on clearing other trails.

A week of meticulous chainsaw training earlier in the month ensured that we were all well mentally prepared for the work we would be doing. We collected our chainsaws, equipment, and other tools, gassed up and hit the trail. We soon found out that not only were the animals of monstrous size and numbers, but so were the ticks. The Jurassic Park ticks attempted to consume us whole, but we were indomitable. We quickly became accustomed to tick checks throughout our breaks and continued clearing these thick bison trails relentlessly. Almost every afternoon we were hit with precipitation of some sort, ranging from rain to snow, even gropple, which we dubbed Dippin' Dots. It made for an incredible scene in this wild place, but it never lasted long enough to drag down our high spirits. High winds made for difficult communication while running chainsaws, but we managed to work through the challenge and use our true inner chainsaw voices.

Morning stretch/safety circles were full of funny questions and stretches. Bruce had tucked his pant legs into his socks to prevent ticks from entering, and he had done such a good job that he was unable to do the sumo stretch. One morning the question for the group was, "What is your favorite smell?” When my turn to answer and request a stretch came, I said the "dirty old man." I meant a stretch that we had dubbed "the dirty old man", but everyone broke out laughing thinking that was my favorite smell. Rather than let them down by denying it, I rolled with it, claiming it as my stretch and my answer.

A bunkhouse with all the amenities we could hope for housed most of our crew, while others chose to camp out in the pristine location of the Bison Range campground. Our evenings were full of music. The nightly jam sessions included a minimum of four guitars and a banjo, a plethora of harmonicas and friends/crewmates eager to sing along. Most notably was the Wagonwheel sneak attack, where nearly our whole crew quietly approached our crewmate, Mack's, tent to play and sing their hearts out when he retired for the evening. Mack hates Wagonwheel, and even so, he claimed that it made his night. The meals that the crew prepared were fit for kings (and queens, of course). Venison stew, famous grilled cheese, and other amazing meals that I couldn't name but also couldn't forget.

When the week ended, we all felt that we had accomplished a great amount. We bonded as friends and also as a cohesive working community. The music will not be forgotten, but will continue on and become even better. The standard for meals was set, and we can all only hope that our own abilities and recipes will live up to the precedent. The animals we had the chance of viewing were incredible and numerous, and only the beginning of what we are sure to see throughout the season. The trails we cleared will be appreciated by few, only the wranglers and the wildlife will use them, but they are sure to be pleased with the improvement we were able to be a part of. If that is not enough, the astonishing views of the Mission mountains in the changing skies will be with us in memory forever.

Getting the Hang of It

2010-04-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

March 5th, 2010

Of the many activities swirling about in week three with MCC, the one containing the most tangible measure of success would be tool sharpening. With so many educational concepts and models for leadership, many of the notches in the ruler of accomplishment are blurred proficiencies to be sensed rather than measured. Therefore, tool sharpening provided a satisfying contrast to much of our work thus far. Clarity as seen in the honed edge of a blade. For several hours yesterday staff scurried about completing various tasks. We are conducting interviews for our summer crews and packing boxes for the daunting task of moving to a new office location. Come afternoon, I took a break from interviews to sharpen pulaskis and axes outside in warm weather teasing of spring. Though often sitting cross-legged with other co-workers wielding files and blades, I found myself alone for some 10 minutes around 3pm. Now, let me pause here to give you a picture of the city blocks surrounding our office. Directly across the street from the backside of the building is a baseball diamond and a field of grass leading to a playground and small amphitheater. Though there is no school in the immediate vicinity, children often come here to play when their education is completed for the day. As I sat in the grass watching flecks of metal collect on my pant leg, an old woman cobbled past with her dog. She gave me a curious look and I was suddenly struck by the absurdity of the image I projected. I offered her a smile that attempted to convey, “Don’t mind me. Just because I am sitting here alone, sharpening this axe in the field next to those children on the swing set does not mean I have any ill intentions.” She smiled back, but I do not think she was completely convinced. I half expected to see a police car casually drive by following this brief interaction. But if it did, I was already back inside.

-Ashley Tendick

Fork in the Road - Dan Basset, EWCL

2010-03-30T15:56:00.001-07:00

Its funny where you find yourself sometimes. Usually this thought comes out of nowhere and instantly puts you into that deep personal thought mode. Its one of those moments when you can feel absolutely apart from everyone and everything in the room. It makes you think about the course of events that got you there and how it ties into the rest of your life. It makes you go back and find out where that fork in the path was.

I had one of these moments today.

If you told me a year ago that I would be where I am today, I wouldn’t believe it for a second. But you would also be talking to a guy that was finishing up his senior year of art school, putting together his thesis show, writing his statement for the review panel and thinking of nothing but what it would feel like to have that diploma in his hand. My life was very different a year ago. The plan after graduation was to jump into the world of photography and be a photographers assistant in some hip studio in some big city making a name for myself, or maybe freelance for some small magazine until I got my big break with TIME. Nowhere did the thought of Montana or the Montana Conservation Corps ever cross my mind.

After graduation, nothing went to plan. No photographers needed any help and the magazines weren’t answering. I felt lost and without direction. To help pass the time, my mom suggested that I start volunteering. Before I knew it I was spending three days a week at a local food pantry. Even though I loved the work, I still didn’t feel satisfied with it, I felt like I was in the same ol’ drag. Maybe it was that I felt trapped by still being at home, or maybe because it wasn’t challenging enough. That was when I found the MCC.

One night while searching for job postings online, I decided to check out the Americorps website to see what they had. It only took a few minutes until I found a posting for a Crew Leader for the Montana Conservation Corps. I read up on it and decided to send in the application. After a phone interview and about a month of waiting for a response, I got a call telling me that I got the job.

So when I found myself today in the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness on the Lake Fork Trail in south central Montana, I thought about how much things have changed and how different my life has become. I thought about how I would of never of pictured myself here year ago. I thought about how far apart sharpening a Pulaski is from processing RAW files are(nerdy photo reference). I thought about how much better a summer in Rockies is than working a menial job anywhere else. I thought about the 2300 mile drive from Auburn, New Hampshire to Billings, Montana. I thought about different my life has become and how much better it has become. And I also thought about how great the view is right in front of me.

News from Camp Mak-A-Dream - Warning - Graphic First Aid Photos Follow

2010-03-18T08:06:00.000-07:00

My quiet Sunday mid-afternoon nap was interrupted by people, scads of them, descending on my home. The bulletins on the doors announced Wilderness Advanced First Aid training, at the time it all seemed innocent enough.

My first eight lives could not have prepared me for the horrors of the ensuing days.

It started like your typical gathering: There was food, laughter, excitement, and the promise of better days to come.

It wasn’t more than four hours into the first day until human breath animated a doll.

Picture 1 (jen amongst CPR dummies)

That evening a pig’s lungs completely separated from its host began breathing on their own.

Picture 2 (wild bill intubating lungs)

I was able to pass that first day off as nothing but catnip induced hallucinations, and to my relief everything returned to normal.

But like any horror movie connoisseur could tell you, this was just the calm before the storm… This man was found outside the mess hall:

Pic 3 (Eric M without finger)

The next morning’s scene was even more grim:

Pic 4 (sawsall impalement)

Thursday is the day I will never forget, eleven people where injured, there where injuries ranging from eviscerated organs, to amputated hands…

Pic 5 (victim group picture)

And even worse..

Pic 6 (Chris and brains)

Even though the swath and magnitude of the injuries was immense, they where all triaged, treated, and brought back safely.

The care, ingenuity, and the pleasant disposition of this group, even under duress was a thing to behold. I envy anyone who gets to spend time with these folk.

That’s all for now from camp Mak-a-Dream

Bob the Cat.

Zoe Zulakis Receives Gov's Award for Civic Engagement, here is the nomination

2010-03-12T11:21:00.000-08:00

“…in my pocket, a small pearl - a reminder that even if plastic cannot keep out the cold, maybe compassion and humanity still can.” (from Zoe Zulakis’ essay, “Pearls of Wisdom”)

For Zoe Zulakis, the small gift of a single pearl offered from the bony hand of a cancer-ravaged man living in a dilapidated trailer in Northwest Montana, served as a reminder that the simplest acts of service have the power to transform the world.

Installing window kits in ramshackle trailers in Northwest Montana was the last place Zoe imagined finding herself in October 2008. Just weeks before, she’d been building trails amid the spectacular peaks of Glacier National Park. But even that seemed an odd place for a young woman from Michigan who’d never hiked or camped or laid her eyes on a chainsaw before her arrival in Montana in May 2008.

Zoe started with the Montana Conservation Corps with “no expectations, a faint romanticized view of the Wild West, and perhaps a little bit of foolish wanderlust in me.” In her first weeks, she found the camping, weather, and heavy work with hand tools mighty challenging. During her crew’s first assignment planting 78,000 trees along Silver Bow Creek near Butte, it snowed and rained nearly the whole week. The crew was thigh deep in cold mud every day. Had she bitten off too much? But Zoe persisted, buoyed by her own positive attitude and willingness to try new things and the support of crew leaders and fellow corps members. Soon she earned the respect of her peers for her work ethic and resiliency. When conflicts disrupted the dynamic within the crew, Zoe was a good listener who could help her fellow team members resolve their issues and find a stronger commitment to each other. Her supervisor wrote of her: “Great team player and hard working – not the type to drop a tool in the middle of a task, just because the whistle is about to blow on the end of the day.”

At the end of her term of service, Zoe drafted the essay, “Pearls of Wisdom,” about her experience weatherizing a home in Northwest Montana. Her essay reflected her realization after five months of service with a small crew, that “compassion and humanity” and the commitment to others is the best way to “keep out the cold” and create a better world. Originally published on the MCC blog, her essay has been featured on blogs for The Corps Network and ServeMontana.

Zoe also submitted a photo of her MCC experience for the 2009 AmeriCorps photo contest and her photo received the second place award. Her picture taken during a project digging out feet of snow from the Iceberg Lake trail in Glacier National Park captured the spirit of teamwork under the grandeur of Montana’s mountains.

After completing her AmeriCorps term of service with MCC, Zoe enlisted as a VISTA with the Montana Justice Foundation. Her project focused on enhancing communications among justice organizations in Montana. In addition to her project duties, Zoe stepped forward as the chair of the AmeriCorps Member Advisory Council (ACMAC) ambassador committee to improve communications and networking among AmeriCorps members serving in Montana. She facilitated the development of a member list-serv, developed resources to assist AmeriCorps members in finding affordable housing and applying for public benefits. Zoe also coordinated service projects during Global Youth Service Day, Make a Difference Day, and Martin Luther King Day. In writing about her commitment to service, Zoe reflects: “I volunteer because it makes me feel active and engaged, it makes me feel aware of the needs of my community, and requires some creativity in addressing how that need can be met.”

Zoe recently committed to a third AmeriCorps term of service, returning to the Montana Conservation Corps as a crew leader. In her application, she reflects: “I can’t think of a single experience that has shaped me more profoundly than my year as a crew member in the MCC.” As a crew leader, Zoe hopes to facilitate the same kind of learning for our 2010 crew members, “to allow them to explore new avenues of development.”

The Montana Conservation Corps proudly nominates Zoe Zulakis for a Governors Award for National Service in recognition of her demonstrated commitment to engage others in the transformational journey of service, for her support of fellow AmeriCorps members serving in Montana, and in recognition of the courage she demonstrated in climbing her mountains while bringing a little more warmth into the world through “compassion and humanity.”

Lending a Helping Had - Martha Knox, Western Wildlands

2010-02-09T08:28:00.000-08:00

Over the course of my 2009-2010 winter working for the Montana Conservation Corps and Warm Hearts Warm Homes I lent a hand to many in need of a warmer home and the company of another person. Working with folks in their time of need has not only kept me feeling equally human, but has brought out the compassionate side of me more and more everyday. Bringing smiles and tears of joy to little old ladies as well as younger folk and their families has brightened my winter, bringing a sense of completeness.

All winter my week days have been filled with greetings from fury friends, young children’s laughter, and older women looking for help staying warm. Not only were they hospitable, offering us food, drinks and funny stories but they were also so thankful. They gave back to us any way they could, by offering us a hug, maybe a candle they hand made, or even plants to help brighten our homes. Some folks who didn’t have much even tried to offer donations in the form of the little money they had.

One client, from the beginning of our season, has stuck in my mind and filled me with joy everyday. She was an older woman who lived with her small and very sweet doggie. From the moment we walked into her home she was overjoyed, thanking us over and over. She was just so happy to have younger folks out helping those who need it, such as herself. As we worked she told us stories of how her daughter, who had been sick for a long time, was finally coming home for a visit. By the end of the appointment she gave us hugs and a can of home grown tomatoes she canned herself. With tears in her eyes she bid us farewell, and showed us to the door. Leaving her house that morning I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, and a little misty in the eyes. I knew the work I was doing was important for all people who needed some extra help and it was important for me.

This winter has been a learning process of being human, letting go of judgments, and instead offering a warm smile and free supplies to help seal up a leaky home. Thanks to the MCC I have been able to reach out and help my community and the surrounding communities while learning new skills and meeting friendly faces. Thanks guys.

Reflection On a Rare Winter Season - Eric Milliken

2010-02-03T15:04:00.000-08:00

Weatherization was supposed to be the end of my MCC term but it has become more of a time of transition and growth than an ending.

In October, crews from every region converged on Bozeman for a four day weatherization training seminar. The idea was to teach a handful of people from each region basic weatherization theory and application, so we can turn around and teach our peers. We spent time in the classroom studying materials, tools, and application. We also had extensive hands on training on: Caulking, weather stripping, window coverings, using expanding foam, and water heater wrapping. On our last day, a Department of Energy representative attended our training to award Montana Governor Brian Schweitzer millions of dollars to reduce our state’s dependence on fossil fuels.

We left Bozeman in a snow storm with eight crews headed for Glendive in Northeastern Montana. We spent a total of two weeks in Glendive, Miles City, the Northern Cheyenne and Fort Peck Indian Reservations. We typically had four appointments a day, where we meet with clients, address their energy needs, and then do as much as we can to help them. The actual weatherization varied from home to home. Sometimes it was as simple as putting up some interior window plastic, and screwing in compact florescent light bulbs. Other times we spent hours covering missing or broken windows, sealing gaps, insulating pipes that freeze, and making doors airtight. It was admittedly trying, yet immensely rewarding hitch, helping people that need it.

After graduation, I was asked to return to MCC as a crew leader , with training to start mid February. A couple weeks later I was asked to return for three ten day weatherization stints through December and January. I accepted and have spent the better part of the last two months in some of the poorest parts of Montana, helping people stay warm and save energy. Every day we help people keep the minus twenty degree temps from creeping through cracks, crevices, windows, and doors. Being given the materials, the know how, and the opportunity to help has been a blessing. It hasn’t always gone smoothly. We helped a client’s friend who broke her ankle until the EMTs arrived, went to the hospital to get some sewing done to my forehead, and we towed our suburban out of a ditch.

That was just the last three days.

But we have certainly made an impact on the people we have met, and hopefully with our training they will be able to weatherize their own houses next fall.

I am writing this as a sort of reflection of the past three months, today is Sunday the 24th of January, and I am writing this in a Billings motel. Tomorrow we are going to Red Lodge to weatherize our final three homes of the season, and then packing up the trailer and heading for home.

I have certainly come away from this experience with an appreciation of the gifts and opportunities that I have had in my own life. It is easier to focus on what I have rather than what I don’t. I have been given the opportunity to lead, to teach, to learn, and to listen.

I don’t know when it happened. My guess is somewhere around sophomore year of college. I stopped listening to what teachers where saying in lecture halls. It was probably apathy, boredom, or a combination of the two. What started in the classroom started expanding into my life, and eventually into my relationships. Sometimes I would find myself with a close friend talking to me, I would make eye contact and nod occasionally but never really hear what they were saying.

I never really realized how far I slipped until this moment.

Sitting down with people I don’t know, and filling out paperwork has forced me to start listening again. It always starts with the paperwork, but now I am finding myself asking about a sculpture, their grandkids, or their story, and being genuinely interested in their response.

We have been given a rare opportunity, we are treading in waters that MCC has barely dipped it’s toes in. We have designed our own kits, and with Julee’s persistence on the phone, developed our own clientele. I hope that if funding allows this is a program that will continue. When all is tallied we will have weatherized more than two thousand homes.

It is late, and we start early, I will leave you with this:

I found that through helping others, I have helped myself grow in ways that I have yet to grasp.

Eric M.

Personal Reflection - Kat Gimino

2009-12-14T10:28:00.000-08:00

I applied for the Montana Conservation Corps. I don't know what possessed me to do it. It was a difficult and frustrating time in my life where everything seemed to go wrong and nothing happened as planned. But often times, we don't plan the experiences of our lives that turn out to be exactly what we need to realize our true potential. The position started in one week, and acceptance seemed like an impossible dream. I was surfing the internet one night, trying desperately to find a way to fix the broken record that had become my life, a constant repetition of the same negative behaviors and attitudes that held my progress in absolute stagnation. Although I had excelled in academics and extra-curricular activities during high school, I encountered some unfortunate and trying times following graduation. After being diagnosed "bipolar" during my senior year, my life had been in a steady downward spiral that resulted in heavy medications, unhealthy eating and lifestyle habits, a codependent relationship, and severe depression. I applied because I had nothing to lose, never anticipating that this single spontaneous act would transform my entire life as I knew it.

When the Bozeman office of Montana Conservation Corps called to set up an interview, it was a complete shock to me. The resulting job offer lead me on an impromptu two thousand mile adventure across the country to face the unknown. Days later, I found myself at Camp Paxon near beautiful Seeley Lake, Montana. Working and living with a small crew was one of the most challenging experiences of my life. I had never even camped before, and now I was living outside for ten days at a time doing strenuous trail work with a bunch of strangers in the middle of nowhere. At first, I wasn't sure I could make it, but I wouldn't let myself quit. With quiet determination, I went above and beyond all expectations and persevered in the wildest ways. Not only did I find myself adoring trail work and living outside, but my entire perspective on life and the world in general was beginning to morph. I was encountering people, experiences, books and ideology that were opening my eyes to a different way of living.

Being outside in the remote wilderness brought me to value our natural environment in inconceivable ways I had never even considered plausible. Working hard, developing healthy relationships with my crewmembers, and enjoying quiet time in the pristine wilderness of Montana brought true joy to my existence. Life seemed so miraculous and substantial, and the magnificent beauty of our untouched world took my breath away every single day. Butterflies flying free through pastures of wildflowers in every hue and picturesque snow-capped mountains displayed before a backdrop of seemingly endless vast blue sky are moments forever etched in my mind, each displaying a magic and artistry that could only come from nature.

I no longer lived my life as a means to an end, each day only one step of a ladder that would eventually lead me to happiness. After all, happiness can only be experienced in the present moment. It was so liberating to finally realize that I could do anything with my life, be anyone, and accomplish any goal I set my mind to. I was no longer a slave to the cultural American philosophy of "more is better." Instead, I focused on aligning my actions with my deepest values.

As my months in Montana passed, I began to realize that my greatest aspiration was to help create and design a more sustainable way of life that would not devastate our natural resources and the environment. I was inspired by the sense of community I found in Bozeman, so unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Innovative changes had come about from ordinary people with shared values coming together and initiating positive change within the city. It gave me hope that advancing toward a sustainable future for America was not just a pipe dream, but a real and necessary possibility. I began to educate myself on conscious-consumerism, renewable energy, and "green" lifestyle choices that would help reduce my ecological impact. I incorporated these practices into my daily life: becoming a vegetarian, finding creative ways to reduce my waste, recycling, and buying non-toxic, local, and organic products whenever possible. If not for the Montana Conservation Corps, I never would have discovered this new found passion.

My experience with MCC was so paramount I participated again in 2009, this time as a Youth Crew Leader in Kalispell. Again, the program helped me to expand my repertoire of skill sets, especially in leadership, organization, communication, and creative problem solving. During this time, I became committed to becoming an engaged citizen and staying active within the community. Teaching the members of my youth crews about environmental stewardship helped me recognize the need to spread awareness about sustainability to the general public. I am no longer afraid to voice my opinion and encourage others to participate in their local communities and make small lifestyle changes that yield a significant ecological impact. I am willing to take risks and do whatever it may take to create the future that I envision for myself and the world at large.

It's been less than two years since that pivotal evening of late night net-surfing back in 2008, but somehow I feel like a completely new person. I have created a healthy and holistic lifestyle for myself that is extremely fulfilling, developed exciting new skills, and finally realized my career goals and ambitions. The leadership and communication skills I acquired are helping me to become involved in my local hometown community. Our city is in dire need of bike lanes that will provide safer commute for cyclers, therefore I am rallying to expand awareness about the benefits of bike lanes so that the city may be persuaded to take action on this issue. I’m also hoping to get involved with “Girls on the Run”, a program for middle school aged girls that inspires healthy body image and lifestyle choices by helping young girls train for a 5k race. My experience working with youth crews will be especially helpful in coaching these girls and motivating them to make better decisions regarding health, self-esteem, and self-confidence. In addition, I’ve also decided to further test my own physical limits by training to run a full marathon in 2010. I am looking forward to attending the University of Montana in Missoula beginning in Spring 2010, where I plan on majoring in Environmental Studies with a focus in Sustainability. My ultimate career goal involves working with communities and helping inform people about the ecological and economic benefits of buying and supporting local agriculture, business, and community-based projects that encourage healthy lifestyle choices. Eventually, I would love to get involved with the Peace Corps and continue my service experience helping the world’s poorest people overseas create a better life. My goal is to learn as much as I can so that I may be better equipped to initiate positive change toward a more sustainable future. I attribute and link many of these skills and ambitions to my involvement with the Montana Conservation Corps, and I will always be grateful for the opportunities that have revealed themselves after making that one simple decision to join. Looking back, I never even had to fix the broken record that was my life; I only had to make the decision to play a fresh new one.

-Kat

1st Hitch - Kirsten Vorreyer, Western Wildlands

2009-12-10T15:14:00.000-08:00

What did I get myself into!? Oh the rain - no wait snow - this is summer!? I didn't sign up for this! Transformation however necessary is rarely easy and the first hitch was no exception. The first night was so cold, Amanda and I stood under a tarp holding the big dinner pot sucking the last bits of heat out of it in a kind of survival mode desperation. It was a bit dramatic but she is from Florida and I haven't been camping in awhile. After that I ran to my tent and in a fetal like position sandwiched myself into my sleeping bag all the while chanting the mantra, ―what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Looks like there would be chanting after all.

The next day I woke to a damp fog and started rolling barbwire fence with my crew. There we were in the clouds making tight wire wreaths all with surprisingly high spirits. It was beautiful. The sun lifted that afternoon and dried me out so completely the rain seemed like a distant dream. It felt so refreshing to be doing something that mattered. With each wreath I rolled I pictured the animals running free and I felt a relief in myself.

Being surrounded by so much beauty and so much space lets one see beyond the rat race of traffic, shopping, standing in lines. Those daily frustrating parts of city life can‘t touch you out in the sanctuary of the woods. Out here if you forget to pack underwear (hypothetically speaking – well not really) you just deal with it you don‘t have to endure the hell of Reserve Street. Frankly I think I would rather wear dirty underwear then go out there anytime soon. Life is simple out here - you have less cloths and less choices. In the evenings your options are basically reading, stretching, sitting, eating, and sleeping. Oh and of course hanging out with the crew whom I must say I am becoming increasingly fond of.

Scary Start Awesome Finish - Brian Dahme

2009-12-01T07:26:00.000-08:00

When October started with our planned planting hitch at the Continental Divide being canceled due to snow (inconceivable!), my hopes, and I am sure that I was not alone, were not high. It was to be the last of our season’s worth of hitches and while it was just planting, we all started out hoping for the best. I think that soon, however, all we were really planting were seeds of discontent.

All of our planting took place in the most unlikely of areas, which included planting shrubs in a landslide area. Three-quarters of the 6400 shrubs were put in the ground over the next two days, but with our efforts came the cold, the same cold that produced record lows for the area.

The cold brought along random tasks such as chopping wood for eight hours at the ranger station (which several of us, including me, enjoyed because it was actual work and kept us warm) and moving a small pile of garbage to a larger pile of garbage. I think that the cold, rain, snow, and time of season all began to wear on us.

The next week, however, brought about a change for the better. We were now tasked with pulling tread at Lone Pine State Park. I think that we all enjoyed this for the most part, although the snow at night would make our jobs a little more difficult in telling where the trail would lead, but in the end, it did not matter. We were outside, in the woods, working, and staying warm – what else did we really need?

The final two weeks of October brought weatherization to the Northern Rockies. I, along with everyone else, was unsure of what to expect at first, but we all realized soon how much fun we were going to have.

We were all welcomed by the Housing Authority with open arms and given a dinner of stew and fry bread. I do not remember the last time that I have felt that full after a meal and that includes having to eat six tacos one night at Piper Creek. This time though, I did not regret my meal.

Staying in Polson on the Flathead Indian Reservation was tremendous. I honestly have to say that the entire two week period of weatherization was awesome and maybe some of the most fun that I have had all year. Getting to spend the end of your year in a resort with a pool, hot tub, and for some of us, cable TV are all pretty great ways to end your season.

Beggining, Patrick Johnson, GY

2009-11-09T07:55:00.000-08:00

Friday, November 6th, 2009

The last time I was unemployed I was in Minot, going to high school & running track. Today was my last day of the season with MCC. This time, unemployment is the real deal. I have bills to pay with no dependable income source. It kind of worries me that I don't have a job lined up, but only for a time. Dad called me tonight and reminded me that I didn't have a job. He did this indirectly and in a caring way as only a parent could. My MCC experience was nothing short of amazing as my love for nature has been born a new. I cannot imagine myself working in a building ever again. I spent the better part of 6 months working & camping with 5 other individuals very different from myself & each other. Jess McGinnis, Ian Baldwin, Todd Burret, Anthony Smith and Jacob Mogler made up the group I lived with. I've come to learn that we all had personal struggles but maybe some of those struggles have been made easier by this experience. I found it hard during graduation to have a reflective attitude. I was refusing the fact that this stage in my life was over and that I would probably grow apart from my new found family. I found a friend in everyone on my crew but especially Jacob. Closest in age to myself & having a similar passion for skiing we frequently hung out on our off days. I've been backcountry snowboarding with him on 3 separate occasions & enjoyed each of them. Knowing that someone else is going through some of the same struggles as myself is comforting. The relations between the group as a whole will never be as great as they were this summer. How could they? Hopefully I will not focus on this view but rather strive to maintain my new connections & hope that the others will do the same. Never before have I spent so much time with a group of people outside my family. We definately did not always agree with each other's opinions but we did strive to respect those opinions & hear the reasoning behind them. Ideally, this is how everyone would solve conflict in the world but perhaps it will never be. Complete understanding was a super hero power that I once wished for, but that would make life terribly dull. Thank you MCC for this great life changing opportunity.

Patrick Johnson
Greater Yellowstone
Team FUN

My MCC - Chris Ketchem

2009-11-08T19:05:00.000-08:00

Hi All.

Well, the season is coming to a close. Some good times were had, friendships were created, and most importantly, some great work was accomplished. As amazing as our experiences may have been with MCC, it's time to take a step forward toward our futures and continued opened doors. As for this blogger, it's time for a job search as the memory of the beautiful summer he had traveling this gorgeous state lingers in his brain.

I had a fun time putting together a video/slide show for my team to show off at the graduation on Friday. I've also put together a photo scrap book to be kept in the MCC office for future crews and staff to flip through.

If you are AT ALL interested in applying for a season with MCC, I would greatly encourage you to do so. I am grateful to MCC for my experiences and the awesome opportunities I was blessed with this past summer/fall. I'm sad it's over. However, I'm looking forward to what my future has in store for me. It's my hope that my experiences gained with MCC will only help my future endeavors and give me a fresh perspective.

Thank you MCC! and good luck to all those crew members with your plans for the future!! -Chris Ketchem

2009-11-06T11:06:00.000-08:00

MCC is wrapping itself up. We spent the last few weeks off the trail and on the road. MCC collaborated with HRDC to help weatherize low income family's homes throughout Montana. It was a lot different than trail work but gratifying in a different way. It felt good to witness first hand how our efforts are helping others. The crews were scattered across the state in Billings, Browning, Missoula and Havre.
Our crew spent the first week around Missoula and then took a road trip to Havre for the second week. Havre is along the high line which is home to some amazing views. Everywhere you look you can see for miles and miles across rolling hills morphing into snow capped mountains along the horizon. We worked on an indian reservation where I met a man who told me about his friend who was cured of diabetes by a medicine man. Many of the homes we visited were trailers with single paned windows and horrible drafts around their doors. It showed us how much some of these families really needed the help and really made the job feel worthwhile. It showed everyone a side of society we had never witnessed before.

We had some free time one of the days and visited the battlefield where Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce were defeated by the American army. The battlefield gave everyone a strange feeling, standing on the grounds that so many died upon. By reading the signs explaining the battle and scanning the landscape I was able to re-create the battle in my mind with vivid description. I felt sadness sweep over me, imagining the Nez Perce so close to freedom, having their lives destroyed.

Everyday working with MCC was a new experience. Whether it was working on trails in beautiful landscapes or traveling to low income family homes to weatherize there was always something to learn. Every member of our crew overcame so much adversity and discovered strengths we
never knew we had. Now that the season is over we are all going our
separate ways and traveling down different tracks of life. We may keep in touch, but we may not. Life is funny like that sometimes. But we will always remember our summer with MCC=

Kevin Bisset
Wes and Keri's Crew
Western Wildlands

East Moose Trail 421

2009-11-03T13:58:00.001-08:00

This picture was taken on the East Moose Trail #421. We walked this trail on our way out of the wilderness from Moose Creek Ranger Station. We weren't required to work the trail since it had been cut out three times already this summer but on our walk out there were still 11 trees down. This is a trail that had not received attention in around ten years.

The tree was a dead-fall cedar and was around 36'' in diameter and our saw was dull from the season. Our entire crew took turns sawing and it took all five of us to move it.

The information we were given indicated that there were no trees down on the trail. Despite the crew's disdain for carrying the crosscut, the crew leaders insisted it be brought. After encountering this tree, the crew admitted it was a good idea to bring it.

We ended this hike and our stint in the wilderness by walking to Elk Summit in the snow. A perfect end to a serendipitous summer.

From left to right: Amanda Strick, Kai Thorsgard, Justin Duckworth and Courtney Oyler.

Photo taken by Mack Bohrmann

2009-11-03T12:28:00.000-08:00

This season will be one that will stick with all of us for the rest of our lives. Whether we really learned anything is still to be seen but whether we are better people is a guarantee. We all hope the best for everyone and may we find each other later on down the trail. Good luck with all endeavors and may we always keep it wild.

-- Bitterroot Bad Aces
AJ and Andrea's Crew

Working in the Teddy Roosevelt National Park - EW

2009-10-30T12:36:00.000-07:00

The Montana Conservation Corps and Gov Schweitzer's Warm Hearts Warm Homes

2009-10-29T08:04:00.001-07:00

Eastern Wildlands on "Make a Difference Day"

2009-10-26T14:46:00.000-07:00

Warm Homes from Evaro to Polson - Robyn Price, NRock

2009-10-26T14:40:00.000-07:00

During the week of October 19 MCC joined the Salish/Kootenai Housing Authority in Pablo to help weatherize homes from Evaro to Polson. We mostly installed fire alarms and sink attachments, handed out shower heads, carbon monoxide alarms, special light bulbs that last five to seven years, insulated electric water heaters and covered windows with plastic. At every home we left pamphlets for energy conservation education.
The week went by fast for me. The Housing authority set us up at the Kwataqnuk hotel on Flathead Lake in Polson. We were very comfortable. We got to see a beautiful double rainbow on Tuesday from the Kwataqnuk and later in the week the Housing Authority hosted a delicious dinner for us; awesome stew and fry bread. They also generously gave our crew free admission to the local Native Musuem in Pablo which was very cool, interesting, and educational. They were very kind to us and I feet grateful to have worked for them and been given the opportunity to help some of the people who greatly contribute to their community.

six months of MCC in one blog post.

2009-10-23T17:50:00.000-07:00

Bozeman Purple Crew!
by Michael Atkinson.

29May
Started MCC on Tuesday, but all we've done so far is gone to a place called Camp Paxson, and had some orientation and first aid training...my crew is pretty cool, and everyone on all the other crews too. on Monday we do some more training, and then we finally start actual work...our first project is eradicating houndstongue, which is lame, but most of the next six months will be in the backcountry of Yellowstone, building trail, and I am very excited!

12June

this past week we were pulling an invasive species called Houndstongue, that grows fast and wild and crazy and kills everything! It's a very boring job, but fortunately it's the worst job we'll have this whole five months, so it was good to get it done at the beginning.
we were pretty much crawling through swampy jungle in a rainstorm looking for Houndstongue, for about ten hours minus breaks. I may be masochistic to think so, but being so miserable and getting paid so little for doing a terrible thankless job that really really needs to get done is rather empowering, if you know what I mean.

21June
Last week my crew was supposed to be putting up barbed wire fencing...but we got rained out. We drove for like eight hours on Monday to get to our work site, but then the last ten miles or so was on an old dirt road and there was a huge rainstorm, and our truck got stuck in the mud way way bad...we were literally driving sideways for like a quarter mile, that took about 15 minutes, before we stopped and decided to turn around. So we drove out and spent the night at the Bureau of Land Management HQ...it was pretty fun, I slept in a trailer and caitlyn slept in a boat. We climbed a mountain to watch a beautiful sunset. The sunrise the next morning was equally beautiful...the BLMers start working at like 5:00, so I was up before then.
We're probably going to go back later to do the fencing project.

27July
Finished the Fan Creek Reroute this week! Joe's crew came, it was like a big party. Working with the other crew was really fun. Each day, the walk to work was noticeably longer...so many people working on one trail, we busted out super fast, about 250 paces every day.
There were a few thunderstorms this week, had to stop working for a while one day to let it pass. We finished the trail a day early, and went hiking the last day to Sportsman Lake. It was a beautiful hike, and a wonderful lake, and a great day, even though it started hailing really hard right when we got there....
The day we left, we made pancakes in the morning...and I decided to put hot chili powder in one. It was completely red, totally different from the other pancakes, but Joe didn't notice, and got almost all the way through it before we told him that it had chili in it....
Then we worked for a couple hours, and right as we were getting ready to leave, it started raining, HARD. we had to go down to the bottom of the valley and just stand in soaking grass, getting completely wet, for about half an hour, waiting for it to pass. Once it finally stopped raining, we had to hike out totally soaked...most uncomfortable hike of my life. It was just motivation to get out of there faster.
Some of us are road trippin' to Washington this weekend!

23September
My crew has just finished our last of three spikes in Lamar Valley, Yellowstone, doing a reroute for Miller Creek Trail. We were camped ten miles into the backcountry.
Not much to say about it, other than, Miller Creek is not terribly exciting. We saw a total of three moose during the trip, which was rather exciting...compared to the last three weeks in Miller Creek, when the most interesting thing we saw was like a squirrel maybe. Also Kayla and I almost got trampled by a bison on the hike out.

4October
My crew got back on Friday from the Rattlesnake Wilderness Area. We were told a number of things before this hitch, that subsequently proved to be false, including:
this is a frontcountry project
there's no bears
It's in a Wilderness Area, meaning no vehicles...but we got a special permit to take our rig in to the wilderness area. So we drove like 7 miles down what I guess is technically a road, but felt a lot more like driving down a dry river bed...couldn't go more than about 10 miles per hour without ruining the rig. And then we hiked about a mile to our campsite, which isn't bad. But it felt a lot more backcountry than any other projects we've had so far, including 10 miles in the backcountry of Yellowstone.

Also, there are bears. The other crew we were working with saw one on their way to work, and there was scat right outside of our campsite, and Erin heard one right in camp at night.
But it was a really really fun hitch...my favorite so far, I think? So. We drove to Missoula, met the Missoula MCC crews, and drove out to the Rattlesnake Wilderness.
Our work involved maintaining/repairing some dams that were built in the 20s and 30s by the CCC...it was really really cool, and amazingly beautiful. On Wednesday it started snowing, and didn't stop till the day we left. For some reason I didn't mind...there was too much beauty for me to get discouraged by the cold windy discomfort.
It was a short hitch, but we go back tomorrow to finish it up...wish we could be there longer.

22October
Currently we're weatherizing houses for fifteen days. We've been at it for ten days so far, and we're going back to Bozeman this Monday. Weatherizing isn't really my thing, I like trailwork and living in the woods...but it's interesting work, and I'm glad to get the experience. Most of the people we've weatherized haven't seemed very impoverished, like I thought they would be. A few have been though. I've never really been to an Indian Reservation before.
After we're done on Sunday, we're driving back on Monday. Then we will have five days off, a few days of work I think, and we're done with MCC (well, except for our crewleaders). It has been a crazy six months, and I will miss my crew and Bozeman...but I'm ready to be done.

- Michael Atkinson