THE LATEST FROM THE OSI BLOG
All of this is new to me: the Type V PFD, the throw rope, my companions. I have the acute sense that something is missing, and I pause briefly to determine what it is: I’m not feeling any anxiety. In a moment when I would expect to feel internal pressure to monitor every variable and execute a plan perfectly, the situation feels manageable even though I don’t yet have much confidence in my skills.
In my career developing trails as a professional across the country, it is common to be brought in when something goes wrong. The most common issues are negative resource impacts like eroding trails or social conflicts – such as unauthorized trails. Overwhelmingly, the trails in question have been developed by users without any formal planning, design, or construction process.
For years I believed that the communities we work in need more capacity to sustain outdoor sport. That’s not the mistake. It’s very true. The mistake was this; I used to think there would be some magical point at which community outdoor initiatives would reach “sustainability.” If we provided enough planning, guidance, training, and support, communities would have what they needed to succeed. Come to find out, I was wrong.
The other day, I went to the Katahdin Gear Library to help out with a youth trail work day. When I walked in, there were eight students socializing with one another, getting ready for the afternoon. I was surprised to see that I knew every student in attendance. This may seem like a small moment, knowing eight students' names, but the best part is that I met all of them through different work. I had a few in a Katahdin Learning Project program at a local school, and others on an overnight trip a few weeks prior. I was so excited after that program, because in just three short months, I have already been able to create relationships with students in the region. It was great to see my hopes of being a leader and role model in the community starting to come to life. Creating community takes work, and now, it is my work.
Growing up in Iowa, on the edge of the Midwest’s beautiful “Driftless Area,” there were plenty of places to get outside and explore. As a youngster, I joined Boy Scouts and found my desire to play outside. It didn’t take long to decide that I wanted a career in the outdoors. I began guiding a couple years after high school, leading youth trail building crews and backpacking treks in New Mexico, cold weather expeditions and dog sledding trips in northern Minnesota, and canoe expeditions in the summer.
My journey into trail development was unusual, not many people leave a blossoming engineering career to labor in the dirt. But only four years into my office-based engineering job, I knew I needed to do something else. Thankfully, Rich Edwards, a 20-year veteran of the International Mountain Bicycling Association’s (IMBA) Trail Solutions division, and a venerable godfather of modern trail building, saw my potential. Through his mentorship, I gained crucial knowledge about why people use trails, how trails impact the natural environment, and how to meld those two distinct ideas to create long-lasting, low-impact, and enjoyable trail experiences for everybody.
People often misunderstand our work at the Outdoor Sport Institute. It’s easy to assume growing more opportunities for outdoor sport in a community is measured in bikes and skis, or trails and program hours. The reality is we focus on building resilience. If a community has resilience, all these other opportunities will grow over time, but no amount of gear, trails, or program hours equal resilience. Quantity will look different in every community, but resilience looks the same.
Next week is River Fest in Skowhegan, Maine. This annual festival is a celebration of recreation and life along the Kennebec River. If you haven’t had the pleasure of visiting Skowhegan you might not know that the Kennebec, one of Maine’s premier rivers, tumbles through an impressive gorge right in the middle of town. Our partners at Main St Skowhegan and Skowhegan Outdoors have been working tirelessly for years to make this waterway the beating heart of their community, pumping new life and new energy into the area. This year’s River Fest stands to be an extra special event because just this week they were informed that they are receiving a $4.9 million dollar grant to support construction of the Skowhegan River Park.
When teaching people to kayak, for example, knowing how to execute a proper paddle stroke is important, but I think it’s even more valuable to know how to work with one person who might want to give up when they can’t get it right, and another person who is too nervous to try it at all. For outdoor leader-types this domain has historically been called “soft skills”. These days it’s more common to hear terms like social and emotional skills, intra-personal skills, or emotional intelligence. Whatever name you give it, anyone that has worked in the outdoor space knows that this is where the real work lives. That’s why I’m so excited to share our most recent discussion on outdoor leadership development.
Spring, at least in the Northeast, is mud season. It’s one of those “shoulder seasons” that we trudge through to get to the really glorious months of summer. But for whatever the season might lack in predictable weather, it makes up for with an impressive variety of opportunities to experience the outdoors. Skiing, biking, hiking, snowshoeing, paddling, climbing, camping, lounging, picnicking – they’re all possible this time of year. For some the challenge isn’t what to do, but how many different things to do in a given day. And whatever the mode of adventure, the reward is the opportunity to witness the earth coming back to life.