I never really liked Mate that much; I just learned to not hate it. While most would steep a handful or two of leaf in their enamel ware cup, I refrained to only a few pinches. Mate was considered an ‘acquired taste.’ And one that most students are sorely disappointed with when they finally get home and sample it for themselves. I don’t have any real reasons for drinking it, apart from it being a warm drink that I can sip and a dominate part of the RCA field culture. My favorite cup is the third refill – after the initial bitter is gone and all that’s left is watered down tea leaf.

It was halfway through one of these cups that I started to think about my blog that I had long since abandoned. I listed out in my mind a great deal of contributing factors to my withdrawal of which lack of time was on top. Lodge life was busy as ever and field duties had increased with Head Instructor responsibilities. And – what time I did have available to me was spent resting my feet from waiting tables, preparing my pack for the following week, or socializing with my crews.

Mate is a loose leaf tea grown in South America that is loaded with a whole bunch of nutrients and health promoting stuff – or so they say. All I really know is that it’s loaded with a caffeine like substance that gives me a headache if I don’t delude myself with water... I will soon be looking for a replacement to warm my hands.

Another reason I believe my blogging stopped was simply burnout. Writing became a chore to me. I over obsessed with my entries – trying to account for every adventure and story. I would sit down and write all that I could then list out the remaining stories that I needed to finish. The list kept growing and growing until I was so far behind that there was no hope of ever catching up.

I found out that Darren, my costaff from the SLC area, was keeping a regular blog and posting pictures to let his friends and family read about his adventures in the desert. Darren is a bit older than most staff out in the field, half a century old with a wife and four growing kids. “Musings of a Wandering Man” was his solution to the high demand for wilderness stories. Instead of having to tell and retell about his adventures, he can simply write about them once and then refer everyone to his blog. Prior to jumping on the RCA train, Darren was a newspaper writer/editor for over 15 years, both at the cooperate and private levels. Moving his office into the outdoors was a nice change of pace for him.

I asked Darren what he writes about and how he has time to keep a blog – balancing two jobs while fathering his home. He said that starting out he would add an entry every other day, but soon reduced to three a week. “Sometimes I write about a specific kid and his past story and current progress, and other times I just give a recap of my week. If there isn’t too much going on that I want to write about, then I’ll pull in a story from the past and write about it. But I also take lots of pictures and put two or three with each post.”


I finished my third cup of Mate and pulled out my Steno Book and jotted down a brief list of things that I wanted to write about. I thought I should recap a few things that had happened over the summer – both in the field and at the lodge – covering a few memorable RCA students, a short lived romantic fling, and a couple of fun and crazy adventures. And, to start it all back up I thought I would reintroduce myself into the blogging world by talking about mare, or in Darren’s opinion, a ‘distasteful reentry.’

I seem to be talking more about how I haven't blogged for so long than actually blogging!

A few new stories that i hope to get around to writing are as follows!


Home for Chataqua Weekend!
First shift as H.I. aka Senior Companion! - and barely avoiding major dehydration...
Dying phone replaced with a new one... The Droid Incredible!
Rilen - 4 year old boy who gave me a hug.

A day in the life of a Pinecone.

A day in the life of a Pinecone
Inspired by Parker Robinson
“I need some pinecone drama…”


Most often my gaze is found set on this soil,
so dark, and soft, and rich, this soil.
The sun heats it all the day to warm me through the night,
and feeds my tall friends to keep them growing up right.

How I long to be planted deep into this ground,
some water from Mother Earth sure to rid me of my frown.
I would send my roots down deep like all healthy trees do,
creating a foundation that would always hold me through.
My trunk upward would grow like a strong center piece,
extending out my branches towards the sun to feast.

Protection is what I’d offer to those all around,
from the harshness of nature, with my roots in the ground.
Calming the winds as they violently pass,
whilst offering shade to those below on the grass.
I’d be a provider, to all those in need,
A patriarch of the forest is what I wish to be.

But instead of the greatness that I was intended for,
I sit on the ground ever wishing for more.
I’ve fallen from my branch where up high I once grew,
to the earth below where I found others here too.
My dream to be planted was put on delay,
when I was kicked to the side walk instead of in clay.

I wish for the soil that will allow me to sprout,
but with each passing day enters only more doubt.
No one cares for a pinecone or the potential within,
so I sit here and rot - wasting life is a sin!

Why can’t it be me that destiny will choose?!
I’ve played my part – I’d never refuse!

Come off your high horse, and help a pinecone in need,
get me off this cement slab and back by my tree!
No longer fertile for time has passed me by,
at least let me decay where I first fell from the sky.

I no longer wish to be kicked all around,
or thrown about by children – just leave me on the ground!
I’m not your toy to be handled this way!
Go find a ball, or some other game to play!


And… though I hate being over looked like this,
I find a simple joy when the schools are dismissed.
For when the kids pass by with grins on their faces,
soon my frown disappears, a smile replaces.

I know that I no longer can become a tree,
all gone unused, the seeds inside of me.
I can however make the best of my badly dealt hand,
even as just a pinecone, stuck here in the sand.

I can appreciate each day that I am still here to see,
sunshine and rain, and the kids that play with me.
At least some purpose, I can manage to fulfill
decorating the park ground, a masterful skill.

Each time the sun fades and the night comes around,
I’ll listen for chirping crickets, and doze off to their sound.
Another day gone by, now some rest for me,
and even if only in my dreams, turn into a pine tree.

JL - The Wall

This week I returned to a completely different lodge. The parking lot was full of motor bikes, cars, and RVs. The lodge was fully operational with new employees at each station. I’d never seen so many people in the gift shop at once – or the milk shake machine!!! I was introducing myself to new people left and right! Some of them thought I was brand new and offered their welcomes while others responded with, “Oh! You’re David!” A couple of girls even went as far to say, “Oh! You’re David! David the dancer, I’ve heard of you!” To which I would smile, laugh, and then leave. Apparently I was talked about in the girl’s dorm while I was gone. A couple of them were especially excited that I knew how to lindy hop. Tasha – who I worked with on the counter three days in a row – later told me about another conversation that took place in the break room. They couldn’t quite figure me out and finally labeled me as a ‘mysterious flirt’ because I was really nice, but to everyone. Again I just laughed. It reminded me of the time when I was first working with the Stokes brothers. I found out that it was a customer’s birthday that day and found them a piece of cake to celebrate. I wanted the boys from the kitchen to come out singing with the cake, but they were too skeptical to go through with it. Later I found out that they just didn’t trust me – thinking that I was setting them up somehow and that there was no way that I would be that outwardly nice to complete strangers. They later learned that I was legit – naturally a nice guy ;).


Day One – The Trailer

My first work day back at the lodge was spent playing in the mud underneath a mobile home. We needed more space for the house keeping employees and had thus purchased a used trailer home to house them. The first part of the day was spent leveling the trailer with hydraulic jacks, cinder blocks and 2x4s. Sale and I did most of the muscle work while 86 year old Uncle George gave us instructions. He was a straight shooter – told it how it was and always hit things right on the head. And he frequently said damn. I liked him.

more to be posted here...


Seeking Validation

As I came in and out of the lodge throughout the day I kept meeting new people that I hadn’t seen the night before. Again I was perceived as a new kid until I introduced myself as David. When asked in which department of the lodge I was working I would raise my hands and shrug my shoulders indicating that I didn’t know. At first however I felt that I needed to prove myself to everyone – seeking their validation. After a few introductions I recognized what I was doing and reminded myself that I didn’t need to appear ‘all knowing’ and prestigious to these new people. If I was to stay on with the “Elite Waitri Team’ then awesome, but if not awesome as well. And though I was very friendly to all the new faces, I found myself revert back to my old group of friends.

Day Two – Left Counter

My second day back blew my world away and started one of the greater learning curves that I’ve had while serving food. I was put on the afternoon swing shift. I was later to find out that the swing shift is the most difficult positions and often given to the more experienced employees.

In the lodge we have a horse shoe shaped counter surrounded by swivel chairs that people sit around and eat. The lodge also has a diner with tables for a more formal setting. During moderate times two waiters manage the diner and another two the counter. What makes swing especially difficult is that they manage the left counter and ‘swing’ into the diner during the rush hours and pick up a few tables.

I felt like it was my first day all over again! I was running around lik e achicken with it’s head cut off! And on top of that the girls that I was working with had only been there a few days.,… I was kept on late swing for three days straight – helping out a little with everyone. Besides two returning veterans of past years I was the go-to man for a lot of questions. Most times I knew the answer of could at least make one up that sounded about right… other times my hands found their way into the air followed by a shoulder shrug.

I was kept completely busy all day long – something I hadn’t yet experienced while waiting tables. Left counter certainly brought me out of my comfort zone and made me sweat like I hadn’t done since the snow mobile gang several months earlier.

I learned a few things about waiting tables this last week that I hope to never forget...

#1 – Being grateful for your co-workers goes a long way. Appreciating them for their positive attributes and overlooking their short comings… Offering little tips of advice yet not over bearing… Help them with their customers with no intention for reward – basically, be a really nice guy.

Number two ties in with number one… have an attitude of service. The left counter is also often the gathering place for the Rich family to eat. Mrs. Rich at 87 doesn’t move from that first seat very often. At first I was a little reluctant to have them continually there taking up counter space… essentially deterring business from my pocket. Here at the lodge, being provided with free room and board my only earnings come from tips generously offered by the customers. So basically – my services to the Rich family not only are for free, but cost me money as well for two hours a day. (Fix this…)

My attitude soon changed when I realized that my tip reports were above anyone elses that I worked with… I wondered how I could be shafted two hours a day yet still make above average tips. My conclusion came that it was that same attitude displayed to the Rich family that earned me good tips from the customers. My whole perspective changed… I looked forward to Mrs. Rich shuffling over to her seat. I loved clearing their plates without it being expected, I loved refilling their drinks and anticipating their needs. I relearned about myself that I loved serving people. I loved to smile and be charming. I loved being nice to people because it made me feel good! And it reflected in the way people tipped me.


Mrs. Rich

Jacob Lake Inn is a family run business established in 1923. Originally it was a trading post way back when for travelers to resupply their essentials along their journey through Arizona. Today, some 90 years later, the business has passed through several generations of the Rich family where John Rich at 63 some years old is not the majority share owner. Mrs. Effie Dean Rich is his mother and matriarch of the lodge. Though her family urges her to rest more than she does, she insists on returning to the lodge year after year to whip us Waitri into shape. I’d heard horror stories of her chewing kids out in front of everyone, humiliating them in front of their customers. I feared the day she showed up at the lodge to resume her post on the left counter.

Oh! Something else I learned! Be humble!!! Take the criticism and put it to good use! Mrs. Rich called me over several times my first day back to ask me what I was doing… The correction was brieg and to the point – most often in the form of a question. She preached consequences be over and over again, “I don’t believe in right or wrong – I believe in consequences.”

The lady was smart – and after decades of experience had become extremely efficient. After each talking to I would try and adjust accordingly. I found that life became easier with each pulling aside. I always addressed her as Mrs. Rich and ended most of my sentences directed to her with Ma’am. I cared for her needs and helped out where I could – almost like she were my own grandma that I was never mature enough to appreciate.

Effie Dean began to smile when she saw me and even called me sir. Occasionally she would throw ‘good sir’ in there and at the end of the week she called me “my good friend.” It made me extremely grateful that I didn’t let her pressure frustrate me for long.

Car Issues...

Several months ago I kept getting the feeling that car troubles were soon on my way. They frist came to me furing one of my commutes between jobs in the middle of the desert witout cell service. I was sure that it was kjust a ‘that would really suck if…’ kinf of thought and dismissed it from my worries. My little Honda hadn’t shown any signs of approaching death and I had taken fairly good care of her – with regular oil changes and smooth driving.

The feeling that my car was in trouble returned to me a couple more times. I told my mother what was going on to which she asked all the normal questions about the car’s performance, leaving us both to conclude that for now things are fine. She offered that if anything did happen and I was left carless that we would figure it out then. Again the worries left me.

So sometime down the road… without giving it a second thought I let two of my coworkers from the lodge borrow my car for their day off to Saint George. I gave them strict instructions to treat my baby with care and that Ethan was NOT to drive. He had a history of destroying clutches – the most recent being only one month before. Logan appeared to be the more responsible driver so I put him as captain.

Halfway through the day Traz from the office came to the kitchen window and announced that I was wanted on the phone. I could only convince myself of one thing – Logan and Ethan stranded on the side of the road…

And sure enough, “So… David… there seems to be a problem with your car…”

Logan went on to explain that the clutch had blown and that the car was in front of his uncle’s friend’s neighbor’s roommate’s house in Saint George. My heart sank as I started asking questions about what had happened. Apparently it had started slipping in 5th gear while ascending a hill on the highway, and then again in first gear while driving around town. They barely made it to the house from which it wouldn’t move.

With only a half hour left of my shift on the grill, I was dismissed early to be able to try and save the situation. I helped arrange rides for the boys back to the lodge and spent a couple hours on the phone with different people. With my mother I talked about different outcomes – repairing versus buying a new car. If it wasn’t quite worth it to repair the Honda then I would go to Church Fleet Services and buy a used Toyota Carola for eight or nine thousand dollars. I also got in contact with a local auto shop recommended to me by my boss. “They’re good honest people.” AAA wouldn’t tow my car without me being present so I would have to wait until my day off in the morning to get myself to Saint George.

Parker let me borrow his truck on the premise that I NOT blow his clutch – I smiled and thanked him with a ‘brotha hug’ for his kindness. I wanted to get into town bright and early in anticipation of having to call a tow truck and spend all day in the shop. With some shotty directions and a tourist map of Saint George I found the house and my car. I experienced a certain relief when I pulled up behind my little Honda. She doesn’t have a name but she knows that I love her. We’ve been through a lot together these last five years of my driving life. I found the keys underneath the seat and fired her up. I wanted to know for myself what was going on… I gave it a minute to warm up and then eased out the clutch in first. She crawled forward just like normal… I put her in second and went around the block… It seemed as if nothing were wrong! I smiled to myself out loud, rubbed the dash board and drove her straight to the shop.

I was extremely relieved to find out that the clutch was NOT blown – just worn. The mechanic speculated that the boys had ridden it hard all day heating up the boot pads causing it to slip. Though the clutch was definitely on its way to needing replaced, it still had months of life still in it if I baby her. I smiled with relief and called my mother.

RCA - The Bullfrogs

As written in my field journal...

This week proved to be another major first for me. Last week I was with an all girls group – this week I’m with the all rebels group. When a student repeatedly no longer wishes to follow the basic structure of the program then they are pulled from their normal groups and relocated to the Bullfrogs. Here each student is put on what we call separates – AKA individual camps. The kids aren’t to talk or interact with each other and have minimal responsibilities, only tending to the most basic needs – wood, food, sleep, etc. Ig a kid shapes up and decides to follow the structure then they are allowed to work on their phase work. The design of the group is not to have a social or exciting environment. Our instructions this week were to be as boring as we possibly could – limiting our conversation and interaction with the students.

Our fire pit was placed in the middle of an opening amongst the Juniper trees. Each student was assigned their own spot away from each other but still with insight of our camp fire. The instructions are for each individual to dig their own fire pit and sump (a hole for grey water), gather their own wood and tend to their own fires. On rare occasions that everyone is willing to hike are the kids allowed to carry on casual conversations.

This week we had four students in our Bullfrogs group. When Rising Wolf and I were dropped off to relieve the old staff two of the students were already there from the week before. We waited on the side of the road until the other two unfortunate students arrived to discover their new discomfort.

Student Rory upon taking off his blind fold and leaving the vehicle he was moved with realized that he had once again landed in the Bullfrogs and started cursing up a storm. “Ah no! I’m in the Bullfrogs?! That’s it… I’m refusing! - Staff, just so you know I won’t be hiking or following any directives. I’m done.” (translated and filtered for both your and my comfort.) The fourth student to arrive was Jacob, the notorious runner from last week. He had become overly compliant with the program yet at the same time pled innocence to the world. I assume Bullfrogs was to give the kid some alone time to think.

After a few moments when all the people who needed to see us had seen us, Rising Wolf pulled the group together to offer a brief introduction and to outline the week and structure of Bullfrogs group. He offered that we didn’t exactly know why nor really cared why they were now in the Bullfrogs or in RCA for that matter – but that we were going to make the best of the situation anyhow. After answering a few questions the kids seemed to calm down a bit and put their packs on ready to hike.

We didn’t push them too hard and took lots of breaks for fear of one of them giving up and sitting down on the trail. A few miles down the road we set up camp and then day hiked for water. Once back at camp we started the dinner process beginning with bowing time – a chance for kids to work on their fire sets and ultimately make a fire. Only two of the kids managed any success to build fires in their pits. The other two went without, sitting down in their cold camps defeated. There was no safety concern with the temperatures so we simply told the kids to layer up and keep bowing. When dinner came around the two ‘withouts’ were allowed to cook on our fire and then retire back to their spots.

More to be posted later!

Random...

Crazy week!

The Grand Canyon opened up and and business at the lodge is booming. I can't seem to find any free time for myself anymore! I'll try and get some more stories up here this next week when I return from the woods...

I love it when...
- someone gives me a high five as they walk by, just because.
- I can look someone in the eyes and smile.
- I can offer service to someone else's customer out of the goodness of my heart - not expecting to be tipped.
- Customers are patient with me when I blunder repeatedly.
- I can lay down to rest and sleep the whole night through.
- "thank you" naturally comes out of my mouth.

This, I Believe: Fasting – Getting to a high place

I want to find a correlation between giving up food for a certain period of time and getting to a high place as a form of offering up gratitude, receiving additional guidance, and asking for special blessings.

As a child growing up in my parent’s home, we would hold a morning fast each month. We weren’t ever quite organized enough to do a full twenty four hour fast – so we would skip breakfast before church and then eat our normal Sunday late lunch/early dinner. I went through the motions but didn’t start understanding for myself the real purpose of the fast until while on my mission and after.

I often wonder what fasting does for me other than a simple expression to the Lord of compliance. I’m sure He knows how much we love food and our natural tendency to settle the desires of our flesh, and the challenge it creates for us to abstain from food or drink for twenty four hours. Showing self discipline and control for a spiritual purpose would certainly please Him.

I’m sure that deity appreciates our willingness to raise funds with our fast offerings to feed those in need around the world. I’m also fairly sure that the Lord has a few chuckles each time a young child declares to his mother that he will surely die of starvation without breakfast that Sunday morning…

Besides these reasons and several more that could be noted – I believe fasting creates for us an opportunity to be humbled.


During my childhood I became extremely overweight. It was starting to affect almost every part of my life in a negative way. I couldn’t function like others my age could and my physical activities were extensively restricted. After barely surviving freshman football I was encouraged by a good friend and mentor to turn out for wrestling. It wasn’t until the end of the season that I could do a full set of twenty pushups. At some point during every practice I was on the brink of tears. No matter how hard I trained or perfected my moves I didn’t win a match for months, finding my only competition with those 100 pounds lighter than I.

After one particularly difficult practice I found myself in the coach’s office with my chin down and my eyes glued to the floor. I had nearly reached complete and total exhaustion both physically and emotionally. I remember a distinct feeling of complete helplessness. Inside I was pleading for help or instruction – and was more ready to receive it than at any other moment on the mat. I was a broken man, a warm ball of wax begging to be molded.


Over the last couple of years and with my recent weekly fasts I’ve discovered a similar feeling that I experience after having skipped consecutive meals. My body feels weakened, I’m slightly light headed, and my mood becomes a little more somber. With the added onset of some anxiety, that same feeling of helplessness kicks in and I turn into a dry sponge soaking up water. The likeliness of my accepting of any teaching/instruction/help drastically increases.

With this connection of physical exhaustion leading to brokenness and humility, it’s no wonder why Moses was required to climb a large mountain to receive instruction of the Lord, nor why the temple is also referred to symbolically as the Mountain of the Lord.

This, I Believe

This, I believe...

When out in the woods I find myself with lots of time to think and ponder about random things. These thoughts range from ways to improve my dinner pot that night to brilliant breakthroughs that surprise even myself. I want to start getting some of this down on paper before I forget it, so I’ve decided to add a third section to my blog illustrating some things that I believe to be true. Most of my writing is done in the field – so I won’t have a lot of access to sources to pool from. If I can recall something that I’ve learned in the past then I will conclude that it has become part of my general opinion and won’t hesitate in including it.

Also – as these writings reflect speculations/ideas/thoughts/theories that I currently hold as belief – they stand apart from those things that I know to be true. I accept that over time and with experience that they may change, adjust, be discarded, or possibly develop into something that I know to be true.

For this reason I title these writings, “This, I believe…”

Here are some things that I’ve been thinking about lately and plan to write about:
- Trust – How society operates
- Debt – avoid it
- The purpose of a fast/getting to a high place
- Sin – a necessary evil
- Adaptive Child vs Alma challenge

RCA - Bobcats!! 7-14 April

This week I took time in the field to write out my stories… The writing isn’t as well done, but it does account for my activities.

As written in my Field Journal…

7-14 April, 2010

This week I was assigned to the Bobcats. I was excited to return to their group - they were a lot of fun three weeks ago with Rising Wolf and Cedar Elk. Last week at Shindig the Bobcats did a ‘Meow Mix’ count off in honor of Blue Ridge’s cat. “Bobcats! Count Off!!!” “One! Meow meow meow” “Two! Meow meow meow” “Three! Meow meow meow…” Blue Ridge was my H.I. again this week so at our first camp site the boys did it again.

Another reason I was looking forward to the Bobcats was to return to the origins of my student given earth name. Western Stubby Shadow Dream Wrecker – Western Stubby for short. Stubby because I almost cut off my ginger, Western because I’m always happy, Shadow because I come from the unknown, and finally Dream Wrecker because I crush the dreams of developing teenagers. Student Aaron had a write up and everything for me – awaiting the day I returned. This week Aaron was with us for about twenty minutes. He was moved to the Eagles to try and humble his reign among the Bobcats. He said he’d pass the write up on to another staff to give to me. I don’t really care about it – it just makes for a fun story.

The Bobcats are probably the more functional group in the field. Two red suits that haven’t been much trouble… musical mornings, poem time at night, riddles, soul questions, and always a couple of British lads…

Last night in the shelter the boys were being awful chattery in their sleeping bags. I told them that if they wanted to continue talking their words had to be in song form. They sang their conversation for a few minutes and then drifted off into their sweet dreams. Snoring has become rather soothing to my ears out here in the woods. If they’re snoring then they’re not awake being sketchy.

I’ve set the goal to do pushups every day out in the field. I also want to make a jump rope somehow. I told the boys my plans and student Trevor suggested we do 25 pushups for every half quart called throughout the day. (As I write this another half quart was called – pushup time) After 150 my chest and arms are super stiff. I’m not sure how the last 50 are going to go…


Hand Drill

Sweet Bear and I were talking about alternate fire sources a few weeks back. I told him that with it being winter I didn’t have access to any materials with all the snow on the ground so he sent me a box of sticks to play around with. My first attempt was in the middle of the lodge back at Jacob Lake. Surprisingly, I got a little bit of punk and a few puffs of smoke. The next week in the field I brought a set along with me. The first day in the field I couldn’t do any better… I blistered my hands and bore through two holes in my fireboard. A few days later one of the kids asked to go tandem with me and my set. I started off drilling first – and noticed that I was producing a significant amount of punk and smoke rather quickly. I told student Calvin that I was going to go solo on this one. I bit my lip and put more down pressure on the shaft. A few moments later I had a glowing coal as fat as any bow drill could make. Whoa!! I hurried for my nesting bag and threw together a small nest to blow into flame. I blew that baby into flame and shouted for joy. I had now joined the elite group of hand rill fire makers – and had a pound of M&Ms coming my way :)

The next time I brought out my hand drill shaft was half the size and not worth newly blistering my hands. I let the kids mess around with my set for a bit – student Trevor got fairly close with it. My co-staff Blue Ridge pulled out a new shaft and tried his luck with hand drill. After a few hours of off and on attempts he got a coal as well! I borrowed his shaft and busted a coal in a few minutes :)


Mind over Matter

The weather this week was way too nice to be hauling around my wool pants – they stayed at home. Wednesday Night was beautiful! My 0 degree bag held its own, the fleece liner being almost too much. Thursday night however was a different story, the skies were clear and it dropped down to 23*. I put on all my layers around the fire pit and still didn’t stop shivering until I drank a hot cup of rice milk with cinnamon – AKA Orchata. About this time I looked around at the kids and noticed that not a single one of them had their jackets on. A few of them were only in their t-shirts even! I thought to myself – “Mind over matter – If you don’t mind, it don’t matter.


Hand Cart

Some groups are assigned a hand cart for various reasons. Sometimes there are hiking restrictions placed on students for health reasons such as being extremely over or under weight. Other times groups get them simply to build team work. The Bobcats had two underweight students and therefore were placed under a four mile hiking restriction with a hand cart. The boys toll their packs like normal and put them in the cart to pull. As we were explaining how to use the cart properly and where each student should be – a memory came back to me of when my family went to Martin’s Cove with the Strickers several years back. Baylei was in the yoke of one of the carts we were taking a picture with. I scurried around to the back of the cart singing, “for some must push and some must pull…” I smiled to myself and went on with the training. Haha – I did NOT sing that one to the boys out loud.


Sling

A few months back I was very grateful that I wasn’t a ten foot giant named Goliath when a student struck me right in the middle of the forehead. This week I found an old leather glove and was about to throw away when the young Philistine David come to mind. I cut out an oval piece from the back side of the glove and poked a hole on each side. I cut two arms length pieces of parachute cord and fastened one to each side of the leather. On one end I tied a loop to fasten to my middle finger and on the other a knot to hold between my thumb and pointer finger. With that – I had myself a stone hurler, also known as a sling. During breaks I’ve been pulling it out to practice on fleeing students. Just kidding. I can hurl stones into the stratosphere but can’t seem to hit a tree twenty feet in front of me. I think I’m meant for more the artillery slinger than the sniper. After spending several weeks with me and after observing me weave my own chair seat, develop the Natural Child 3000, a bailing wire jump rope, and a few other crazy things, student Joe in his British accent commented, “You’re really productive Dave… just something I’ve noticed…”

In trying to hone in my slinging skills I’ve had several fall out/back fires of which a few have come close to hitting students. One time a kid had to pull a matrix move to keep from getting one in the face. “Dave! You’re going to kill me!” My response of course was, “Nah James, I don’t kill, I just hurt or maim.” British Joe developed a “Lat tee da” chant for every foolish thing that I did, “Law Suit!” I smiled and told him to shut it, with a wink.


Bungalo

There are a number of RCA games that the kids pass on through the generations. Some of them are group games that they play around a fire, some while on hikes, and others that you get tricked into. If some one calls your name and you offer a positive response twice in a row, they then start chanting, “Let me see you Bungalo, let me see you bun-ga-lo.” After which they go into a rhythmic chant repeating, “Bung – ga – lo, bung, bung – ga – lo – o.” The person being ‘Bungaloed” then starts out by singing, ‘My hands are high, my feet are low, and this is how I bungalo.” After which he breaks out an interpretive dance to the chanting of “Bung – ga – lo, bung, bung – ga – lo – o.”

I hate being bungaloed. HATE IT. Student James was on the other side of the fire put doing some phase work while I was doing paperwork at my desk in my office – the other side of the fire pit. Student Will to my right engaged me in a conversation after which James called out my name. Yeah? He called my name once more. Maybe he didn’t hear? I repeated a little bit louder. “Yeah?!” As soon as the word left my mouth I knew I’d been had. James almost instantly jumped to his feet and shouted, “Let me see you Bungalo, let me see you bungalow. I glared at James as the whole group joined in singing, “Bung – ga – lo, bung, bung – ga – lo – o.” I stood up, did a few twirls, the granny shimmy, and finished off with an HJ dead fish head banger move. The next night the kids got me again with the same setup! RAGE! I’m learning to respond to my name with ‘what!’ rather than a ‘yeah?’ Stupid Kids. (smile)


A Blue Ridge Moment

Friday morning was a slow morning for the kids. It took them several hours longer than the day before to get out of camp. In waiting for certain kids to finish their chores and pack up, Blue Ridge and I pulled out our slings and started hurling rocks. He was going for precision and I for distance. When one of us made a breakthrough in technique we would share it with the other. After awhile the string around my finger was rubbing off skin so I had to put away my sling. Almost instantly my ADD kicked in and I started gather round flat rocks around camp and discuss through them out off into the trees. Blue Ridge threw a few as well until his shoulder started acting up, to which he went back to observing the kids from his camp chair. Student Trevor had been watching me spin with the rocks and asked to have a go at it for himself. His first time wasn’t too bad – especially for being in the woods throwing unbalanced rocks. With a few pointers he had a good rhythm going. It felt good to slip into coaching mode for a bit. When that was no longer amusing to either of us I sat down next to Blue Ridge and drug my fingers around in the dirt. I noticed a dirt billie (coffee can) about ten feet away and started throwing pebbles at it. After a few minutes I could get most of my throws to go in. Blue Ridge was on the Radio with one hand and searching for small rocks with the other. He missed every single one. I was looking down and around for a few more pebbles when I caught out of the corner of my eye a huge rock flying at the billie. The baseball sized rock sent the billie another fifteen feet away landing upside down. “Oh, great…” I looked over at Blue Ridge who calmly looked away as if nothing had happened. He might have even started whistling.


Peace – like the Mountain.

Two months ago as an intern I spent a night with the Bobcats where I was first introduced to Joe from London. He was fairly new and there for mistook me for ‘Therapist Dave’ and thought I was there to give some sort of therapy or group discussion. I worked with Joe a couple more times – the next a few weeks later in the same group. Joe and I got along fairly well, giving each other a hard time joking around. The boy had a doll face that I didn’t let him live down. His cheeks were just too rosy red to ignore. One time he threw a Juniper berry at me and then quickly looked away as to not be detected. I knew it was him and walked to the nearest Juniper tree where I gathered a hand full of berries. I sat back down, and proceeded to throw berry after berry until I had no more left. Throughout the rest of the week at random I would unload on the kid with Juni-berries.

Our relationship deepened when he was moving a bit slow one morning. We were getting out of our sleeping bags to leave the shelter and I was at the very end right after Joe. It was his turn to bundle his stuff up and exit the shelter but he had yet to get out of his bed. I gently encouraged him to hurry his butt up because I had to water a bush like no other. He smiled at me and over exaturated how slow he was going. At this I raised my voice yelling, “Joe! Get out of the shelter before I pee on your face!” Startled with surprise Joe jumped up and got himself out.

Another time I wouldn’t pass off his Plant Identification for phase 5 because he couldn’t tell me that the needle of a Prickly Pear is especially useful because it’s sterile. Haha, I made the poor kid start over. A week later we met again at Shindig where Joe was wearing a bone mask made from what he called a ‘cow anus’ that he had found that week along the trail. I couldn’t resist and commented (with a smile) that I had a hard time telling the difference between a cows butt bone and his face. Now back to the present – this week I was walking behind him as he pushed the handcart with the rest of the group, I noticed his shoes were untied and tried telling him a number of times. Either he couldn’t hear me or didn’t’ care to respond because I didn’t get any reaction from him. I thought to myself, maybe by stepping on the lace I could get his attention. I skipped up real quiet like and put my foot down on one of his already tattered shoe laces. To my surprise – instead of tripping the boy up the lace broke off under my foot. Embarrassed I slowed my walk and hid my giggle as he moved forward with only half a lace on his untied shoe.

With this background of the interaction I’ve been able to have with student Joe – I continue on by telling about one of the more special experiences I’ve been able to have with RCA.

All week Blue Ridge and I had been talking the kids up about the Petro cliffs nearby. We promised a day hike to visit them if we could get close enough and had enough time. These cliffs were especially cool because ancient tribes would use them to ceremonially bid farewell to their Elders. On our layover day the kids all did their full body hygiene (showers) early enough to buy us some time to go visit. We hiked into a long valley with mountains on each side. Petro cliffs to one side and a mountain with a rock shoulder on the other. When the Elders were about to die they went themselves or were brought to that place to spend their last moments. A supply of wood was kept there for the Elder to continually feed the fire until he passed. Others from the Petro cliffs on the other side of the valley would watch for the fire to die out – signifying the death of the Elder.

We hiked about a mile up a hill to find natural washouts with Anasazi type paintings on the inside. And sure enough – across the valley we could clearly see the cliff shoulder where so many years ago Elders of the tribe went to die. We looked around for a bit, did a half quart, and sat down for a break. Blue Ridge came over to me and snuck a student knife into my pocket asking me if I’d ever done a knifing before. I hadn’t. Nervously I zipped up my pocket and took a moment to gather my thoughts. We had been planning to knife Joe since the beginning of the week - so naturally I thought about what I would say if it was I that was to knife someone. Trust was something that I had had on the mind for several days now and thought this an excellent time to share my thoughts.

I called the kids over to a drop down ledge sheltered from the wind. My voice changed to my teaching voice and I began my trust speech. I tried to make it appear as unplanned out as possible by commenting on the beautiful view and how sometimes it’s good to climb a high place to be able to see the bigger picture. Each student is here for different reasons – maybe drug or other abuse, emotional problems, etc. Whatever the reason – it all boils down to trust. I quoted the field saying, “trust is lost in bucketfuls and gained back in spoonfuls.” For one reason or another we’ve lost that trust and were thus sent here to try and return to the basics. Again it’s good to take a step back, get pulled out of our everyday lives every once in awhile and try to catch the vision once more. We often lose sight of our goal or overall purpose with tedious daily tasks.

I shifted my comments to those of symbols. “Symbols play a great part in today’s society.” I corrected myself, “Symbols used to play a huge role in our society. A hand shake was considered more binding that a signature, a flag more meaningful and uniting… Today we’ve lost a lot of those positive symbols that serve as reminders of trust and integrity.” I took a moment to pause, “and we all know how easy it is to lose sight of that – to no longer be considered worthy of a loved one’s trust.” I continued, “In returning to the basics here at RedCliff, we like to use symbols and tokens to reward and recognize trust.” I motioned towards Trevor and said that that symbol is the one hanging around our necks. Both he and I were wearing our knives from our necks. I pulled out a new student knife from my pocket and called Joe forward. “Joe – Blue Ridge, myself, and your therapist feel that you have earned staff trust – and we would therefore like to knife you in this moment. Come on up.”

I picked up a stone and had Joe throw it as far off the mountain as he could to signify his advancement from the Stone Age. I then tried to put the lanyard over his head but his boonie hat was just too big. We both laughed as he took it off and we tried again. I offered to the rest of the group that they always live a life worthy of a knife. We gave the boys a few minutes to spread out a little and enjoy the view and take some time to think. Smiling, I sat down next to Blue Ridge. We were both on the verge of tears! We shared some thoughts with each other on how it was those sorts of good times that make this job worth it. He pounded my fist and said good job on my first knifing.

That night I read in Trevor’s journal “…there was this moment lying on the hill/mountain that I felt total inner peace and contentment.” I had felt it as well. With all the things going on in life that were weighing my heart down I could look out over God’s great creation and know that everything was going to be okay. Today on top of a mountain I was able to witness a moment of growth for a young man and take a moment to reflect upon my own life. It was on top of that mountain when a peaceful moment took over my life. Truly, ‘Peace like the Mountains.”


Lost and Found Auctions!!

Each night before bed the kids are asked to secure their things by their packs. After the kids are in the shelter tucked away snuggly in their sleeping bags I do a sweep of the fire pit and pick up left behind items. The most common lost and found items are water bottles and leather gloves. The first night I was easy on the few that had lost their things. “Please secure your gear at night boys.” I gave Joe and James back their things. The next night I reminded them again to put their stuff away by their packs. Surprisingly enough I found even more things that the night before! I gathered them up and stowed them by my chair.

The next morning during breakfast I pulled out an armful of student gear and sat down around the fire. I cleared my throat several times to catch everyone’s attention and set the items out one at a time in front of me. Joe’s gaze hit the dirt as he saw that two thirds of the items were his. I explained to the group that we were going to hold an auction and that they could bid for their things back. James lucked out and got his Nalgene back with a promise to not leave it out again. A leather glove went back to its owner for a free bungalo. Joe however couldn’t think up enough things to bid with to get all his possessions back. His water bottle went back fairly easy as well as his leather gloves. The main item of the morning was his willow bow. Nothing that he was offering was appealing to me so I opened the bidding to the group. I was tempted to sell to the kids offering to reject their portions of meat and cheese enabling leftovers to go to staff... Blue Ridge however came across with the deal breaker. He pulled out his bag of hand drill M&Ms and threw them in my lap. “Done.” I handed Blue Ridge the bow, to which Joe buried his face in his lap moaning ‘nooo!!!’

Blue Ridge played along for a few minutes until he gave Joe back his bow. To further Joe’s anxiety about his most prized possession Blue Ridge whittled his name into the bark. “Well since it’s mine I might as well have my name on it…” Haha I love that man. By the end of the week the kids had gotten tired of having their stuff being snatched away and secured it with the packs.


Poems

Every night before dinner the kids write a page in their journal recording the day’s events. On the other side of their journal entry they write half a page about their therapeutic goal and then an original poem of their choice. Some kids will let you read their journals and poems which I enjoy very much. Sometimes I’ll leave feedback or write down inspiring quotes that I think are relevant to what they have written about. Other times I will add a short poem of my own to the end of theirs. I recorded a portion of Trevor’s poem and my own that I added to illustrate.

Trevor:
I’m coming back to you at last,
Will it be the way it was in the past?
Whatever it is at least I’ll know,
If I should stay or if I should go.

To which I responded:
Or if not, others can be sought
With qualities like her, to make your heart stir.
The woods is turning me into quite the poet I’d say! :)


A moment of group A.D.D.

To illustrate how A.D.D. we all sometimes are… here’s an experience we had last week.

I was asking student Will what he was working on when I noticed a plane behind him in the sky going extremely fast. I commented saying, “Whoa, that plane is going fast!” To which student Trevor looked up and said, “Yeah that plane is going… Whoa that’s a pretty cloud!”

Here it is again:
Me – Will, what are you working… Whoa, that plane is going fast!
Trevor – Yeah that plane is going… Whoa that’s a pretty cloud!

We both looked at each other and laughed. :)

RCA Retainer - 11 March, 2010

...As written in my field notebook...

I drove from Veyo this morning to work. I was especially looking forward to this week in the field because of my over stuffed food bag. Back at the lodge I had taken my snack bars to the next level; melted down caramel candies, Reese’s pieces, honey, and butterscotch for a little extra flavor. I had also premade all my bread as well – a full ration of wheat with chives, garlic, salt, and cayenne – rolled out with the rolling pin machine, cut out and baked on cookie sheets. Those babies tasted good in the lodge – I couldn’t imagine how amazing they would taste in the field!

Shotgun, our staff meeting before going into the field, went fairly normal. Nurse Karen gave a presentation on skin diseases and treatment in the field. Because Warrior was gone for the week, Medicine Bull wrote the group assignments on the whiteboard. It brought back feelings from the mission when transfers came along. Bull wrote the group name on the board and then the staff assigned to them underneath. As each group came and went my heart started pumping harder. I had to be coming up soon… nothing. I raised my hand as Bull sat down. “Uh, Med Bull – is there a reason I’m not on the board?” He paused for a moment, walked back to the board and wrote, ‘RT – David.’ “Sorry about that.” The meeting was adjourned and everyone began their final preparations. In passing Bryan mentioned that he had asked to put on Retainer for this week – and that if I wanted we could ask Med Bull to switch us. Med Bull was a little hesitant when we first approached him, “Yeah there’s a reason for that – we’ll keep David on retainer this week.”

I met with Allison briefly to learn Retainer duties and responsibilities. I was basically on call all week and to be an extra hand where needed. She gave me a sheet explain that I wasn’t to be drinking while on call, that I was to be available by phone 24/7, and that I was always to be within an hour of base. She gave me a heads up of a few events that she knew were coming up. “We have an intake tonight, a med run on Friday and a graduation on Monday. So it looks like you’ll get a few days in this week.”

I stowed my pack back in my car and took a shower before heading back down to Veyo. While in the shower, Jordan yelled in through the door, “Hey Dave! Is that you?” Yeah! “Hey come see me before you take off.” Sure thing, is that C.W.? “Nah, it’s Jordan – Lynx.” K - be out in a minute.

I put my blue jeans back on with my new Jacob Lake –North Rim shirt and headed over to Jordan’s office. He sat me down and apologized for not having brought me in earlier. A few weeks back I had requested an interview with him to sign off my internship. Jordan had mistakenly shrugged me off and told me to catch him next week. Well – the next week I returned to find his office empty. Timeliness was going to be an issue because February was coming to an end and time sheets were due. If I wanted to get a pay raise then I needed Jordan’s signature. I should have told him that I instead met with Warrior but thought the conversation would be a good way to build report with Jordan.

…back to work – to be continued later!...

Lodge Locuras

I’m finding that I don’t have near enough time to give a full enough account of my adventures down here. The last few days I’ve been using my breaks to get ready for next my week in the woods - laundry, prepping my food, repacking, cleaning my car - all things that I have to be done before I leave again. I figure it’s smart to do those first and get them out of the way and then go down the list of other things that I should be doing. Sleep is on top of the list of things that I should do more. Writing letters, taking pictures, just relaxing… I’m wondering more and more if working two jobs is the right thing to do.

It was while I was dusting the gift shop (again) that I debated the importance of Jacob Lake in my life. My eyes were glazing over and an all too familiar feeling came over me. It was the same feeling that I get when I spend too much time with my mother wandering isles grocery shopping - I was bored. And not only was I bored, poor lodge management was starting to wear on me. As I rearranged thousand dollar pottery pieces, I weighed the pros and cons like my mother taught me so well. I didn’t have any paper close by me or else I probably would have drawn out a T-Chart to help organize my thoughts. In my moment of frustration the ‘Cons’ were taking a large advantage over the ‘Pros.’ I was not feeling it that day. I was not enjoying how things were going, and felt like my time was extremely limited. It’s almost like returning to my mission days – all day every day. Next came the ‘Pro’ side, which ending up winning the battle – as by my still being here. Working at the lodge gave me a place to stay while not in the woods. Almost like living at home, my room and board was free. I didn’t have to pay rent nor worry about buying food. My only expense has been gas and the occasional oil change. I calculated a $1000 swing to my advantage by staying at the lodge. 1: I earn about $500 a month. 2: I don’t pay rent. (others are paying anywhere from $200 - $500) And 3: I eat for free. With that $500 a month I have been able to pay for all my tithing, gas, and other adventures – enabling me to pocket all my wilderness earnings.

My conclusion was this: I stay at the lodge because of money. 1000 bucks for 10 days work is too good to pass up.


I tell you all of this because it wasn’t a day later that I found myself brought into the manager’s home and sat down on their couch where I was almost fired for misconduct.

We were closing up the kitchen when one of the others yelled for me. “Hey David, La wants to see you.” Slightly confused, I walked out front to see Laura waiting for me. She had me follow her around to the store and into her apartment off to the side. “Come on in, David.” Salesi, her husband, was picking up a few of the scattered toys in the living room and welcomed me in as well. I was directed to the couch where I sat down and wondered what was going on. They seated themselves on a second couch directly across from me. Though I now can’t remember exactly how it started, I know that I saw the schedule notebook in Sale’s hands and thought it might be possible that they wanted to go over my work schedule with me. I was partially correct. La brought it to my attention that the schedule notebook had been tampered with, some rewritten and changed, and now a page was missing. That page was important because they refer to the notebook to see who worked what days when the end of the month comes around and payroll is due. At this point I knew where it was going next. The rewritten part was in my handwriting, and my name was down for the next day’s schedule that they had not yet made.

I sat back in my seat a bit, and pulled a pillow on top of my lap. They knew as well as I did that it had been me. They each took their turn in lecturing me. And, like good missionaries do, they repeated what their companion had said and then further explained it. La sometimes thought it necessary to repeat what Sale had said completely - fearing that I didn’t understand his broken English. Sale sometimes thought that La didn’t explain things well enough and thus repeated all that she had just said. So I got doubly lectured on each point that they wanted to cover.

They felt that I was trying to take over management - which they had ever right to infer. I had no right to touch the schedule notebook, cause for which Sale said that I could be fired. And what’s worse is that several weeks earlier I had taken the initiative to make a schedule sheet on an excel spread sheet. I noticed that La rewrote the same thing every day on a spiral bound notebook, and thought it easier to just print off a premade sheet and fill it out instead. I stapled a handful of sheets together and put them next to the schedule notebook. What I felt was a nice gesture in the moment was being counted as evidence against me.

Part way through the lecture there was an obvious shift. I broke off eye contact, and started fiddling with the pillow on my lap. I bent over and rolled down the legs of my jeans that I had rolled up in the kitchen to keep from getting wet. Sale and La noticed the change as well, and asked me if I was alright. My response was yes, but I was now starting to get a bit irritated. What I thought ‘just lecturing’ turned into half truths and ridicules hearsays. When they had completed their circles around each other, I asked for a moment to say a few things. I pulled out a small composition notebook that I had tucked away in my pocket and scooted to the edge of the couch. My voice cracked when I first started to speak – it had been a good twenty minutes since I had last spoken. I cleared my throat and offered a preface to my pulling out the notebook, “The last couple days I’ve been making a list of things that I wanted to talk to you guys about.” I of course didn’t tell them that I had titled my list, ‘Lodge Locuras.’

I started out by explaining the schedule situation. The night before after closing we were sitting around the dinner counter waiting for whatever was next (maybe it was Mission Prep, maybe Sunday school, I can’t remember…) The schedule notebook was sitting on the corner next to me so I pulled it close and looked it over. In a moment of OCD/ACD, I started copying the schedule over to a new page. La wasn’t very organized and tended to clump everything together. I rewrote the same information on the next page in what I felt a more organized manner. I then took the initiative to write out the next few days as well. I didn’t fill out who was to be working where or when, but set it up similar to my spreadsheet so that La would only have to write in names, nothing else. Once that was done, I put my name down where I thought would work best right before leaving for the woods once again. Having explained that, I concurred that I had no right to touch the schedule, and that it would never happen again. However, I wasn’t going to take blame for the missing page.

I then referred to my list of Lodge Locuras and explained several issues that had occurred that bugged me. My biggest problem was miscommunication. Everyone in the lodge complained about it, but I especially felt it because of the disconnect I had.

Issue #1 - Several weeks ago a backorder bracelet was misplaced. I had talked to the lady the week before, but knew nothing of the bracelet and referred her to another employee. Never associating further with the lady or laying eyes on the bracelet, I left for the woods and thought no more of it. When I returned, the lady had come by to pick it up and to pay the final amount. However the bracelet was nowhere to be found. In Laura’s frustration she pointed fingers at everyone trying to locate the lost bracelet. I had not yet been blamed for misplacing the bracelet so La turned her whirlwinds on me. I told her that I didn’t really know anything – to which she spit out that I was the one who talked with the lady first, and that ‘no one seems to have ever seen the bracelet.’ I felt mistrusted and irritated that she was blaming all of us for losing a bracelet that she should have held on to herself.

Issue #2 – A few weeks ago I was in my room getting ready for the day. I was scheduled to work Rover (the dude who does everything… kind of rotates between gift shop/kitchen/waiter, etc). I assumed that I was to start at 11 instead of 9 because I was going to be helping Sale tile the diner floor again. The last few days we have been starting late morning because Sale usually sleeps in after prepping the floors the night before. I had every reason to believe that I was going to start at eleven like usual. Instead I was summoned by Laura a few hours early and told that I was late. Huh.


To be continued… (break’s over, gotta get back to work…)

-------

And we’re back!


A sub issue to this issue deals with food handlers permits. Apparently we all had to have them in order to work in the kitchen or wait tables. Laura wasn’t entirely sure or informed of the issue so none of us had them. Finally Melinda (another family member) came up for a visit and let us know that we should all get them. I had already started mine the month before – just never got around to finishing it. After finding this out, La told us that no one could work until we had completed the online course. I asked if I should finish it that night, La told me to do it in the morning - yet another reason to believe that I was to come in at 11:00 rather than 9:00.

Issue #3 – The snowmobile gang came in for the weekend and requested a banana cream or lemon morang pie. I let them know that all we had was cherry and blueberry, but that I would put in their request to the kitchen – no promises. I then asked fellow employee Carolyn if she knew how to make either of those pies, because the boys had requested them and had offered to pay double for them :). She said that she might be able to, but that she would have to check with La for permission before starting. I said excellent and washed my hands of the situation. Later when La asked Carolyn why she was making those pies – all hell broke loose in the back bakery. I felt like Carolyn was being picked on rather harshly so I stepped in and offered that I was involved as well. I told my side of the story and left. Well – over the next few hours and into the next day (the day I got pulled into the office) the story evolved into that I had given Carolyn permission to make the pies – leading us back to the original and mother issue of them all – me trying to take over management…

I concluded by saying that I hated the feeling of not being trusted, and offered that our main problem was communication – or a lack thereof. After having explained my side of a lot of things, they understood where I was coming from a lot better. La opened up and told me a bit of her life story – how being a twin she tended to be the one in the shadows trampled over and taken advantage of. This was her big chance to prove that she is capable of manning the lodge and she didn’t want to screw it up. The conclusion that I drew was that in trying to be a good boss she is pumping a lot of energy into her job. However, being the new boss – she feels that her hands have to be in everything and that those things have to be perfect – thus paying too much attention to minor details and ignoring other issues that should take priority.

Oh! – I forgot to mention that during their circle lecturing, they were kind enough to point out a few positive things – that I was a good hard worker, could be trusted with lots of projects, I brought an energy to the lodge, and that they enjoyed having me there.

At the end of our meeting Sale shook my hand and Laura gave me a hug. Though I hated being in the hot seat, I feel like I now have a better understanding of management – even though I disagree with their methods sometimes.

Vegas Baby!

Saturday, 21 February, 2010

At RCA the staff has to experience the program just like the kids do. In training I was blindfolded, lead into the wilderness and not trusted. Once I earned staff trust and hired on as an intern, I was allowed to carry and knife and a few other things. Students/new staff carry their stuff by rolling survival packs and strapping them to their backs with seatbelts. Once phases 1-5 are complete, students/new staff are allowed a ‘fancy pack.’ After three weeks of internship I was able to complete all 8 of my phases, and now have the right to bring out a ‘fancy pack’ to carry my gear in. I hit a few different websites trying to scope out what kind of pack I was looking for. I had seen a few different packs from other staff that I really liked. One in particular was made by Arc’teryx. Sage my trainer carried the Bora 95 model and said she loved it. Compared to some other packs, it looked streamline and less technical. I liked how there weren’t very many crazy straps or random pockets hanging about everywhere. It had a clean look to it. I read a bit on performance and customer satisfaction and found the Bora 95 to be superb – right along with the price tag. I didn’t know if I needed a ‘$500-good’ bag. I put the Bora out of my mind and started looking for other bags more in my price range. I was surprised to see that the majority of the extended trip backpacks were over three hundred bucks! Who would have thought?! I had a pack back home in Washington, but it would never be large enough to carry all my gear. Move of a summer minimalist type bag.

So – my search for a backpack continued. I had narrowed it down to two or three from a couple different websites. I wasn’t overly excited about any of them… but knew that I could learn to love any of them. However! With a little more poking around… I bumped into a closeout sale of last year’s model Arcteryx Bora 95’s on the REIOutlet website! I decided not to buy it right away, rather to sleep on it a night to keep my head clear. I came back the next day just as excited as before with credit card in hand. The Bora 95 would be a good bag for me… streamline, simple looking, within my price range, backed by the REI guarantee… perfect. I jumped on the website and searched the REIOutlet website. After a few minutes I started to get a little bit worried thinking that they had already sold out. Nothing. My heart sank – I had missed out. Shoot! I cursed myself for having waited and lost the deal. I knew I could never afford the Bora at full price, and started to look around for something else. A few minutes later my excited came right back as I came across that Bora 95 once again. Maybe I had missed it? Or it had disappeared momentarily? Or someone canceled their order and it got put back? I didn’t know, but I did know that I wanted it! I purchased the pack and sent it to the closest REI to me – Las Vegas. I could have had the thing sent directly to me for thirteen bucks, but I’d never been to Vegas before and thought it a good opportunity to check it out.

I arranged for a day off work and found myself a guide. Well, Heather wasn’t much of a guide – but I did enjoy the company ;) I had planned on waking up early so that I could finish my laundry, clean the car, eat a good breakfast and grab a shower before heading out. Of course it never works out to plan - my phone died in the middle of the night killing my alarm clock – putting me a couple hours behind where I wanted to be. The car didn’t get cleaned, my laundry stayed right where I had it the night before and I felt so rushed I didn’t eat breakfast. I did however, catch that shower. Over the last few months I’ve learned to love those fifteen minutes of cleansing amazingness, I wasn’t going to miss that.

I should have printed off directions, but instead just took a few notes on a random piece of paper. I also should have printed my online purchase receipt for my back pack. And what I really should have had was the receipt for the fanny pack that I was planning on returning that day.

I headed off the mountain for St. George to get an oil change and pick up Heather. Usually I would have liked to have it done before picking up the date… but Heather was a champ and came along for the adventure. We had to go to three different shops to finally find one that was open. There was a Jiffy Lube on the way out of town. It was a little more expensive than I would have liked to pay – but was relieved to finally have it done. In the waiting room they had the Olympics playing on the TV. Surprisingly I hadn’t seen any of it yet. I sat down for a moment and watched curling.

Vegas was only two hours from St. George. I had put Heather in charge of music – a decision I quickly realized was a bad choice ;). For the most part I was a responsible driver, only hitting the rumble strips two or three times. I think I impressed the girl with my multitasking skills – driving while fiddling with the music, rolling up the window, grabbing stuff from behind my seat… I think her exact words were, ‘you scare me.’

Back at home my dad would always remind my mom to visit the bathroom before getting into the car. It wouldn’t be very long before she would be asking to pull over for a restroom. These last couple weeks I’ve come to understand my mother a little bit better. I’ve been drinking a lot of water, trying to stay hydrated hiking out in the wilderness and living in a wood heated lodge. Out in the woods I don’t have to worry too much about finding a bathroom, they grow up almost everywhere. However, when stuck in a car for a couple hours and after drinking several liters of liquid… haha. About ten miles away from the store my stomach started to hurt. The dull ache kind of hurt. I knew I could still hold it, but it wasn’t comfortable. I started singing random songs, saying random things, jumping up and down in my seat… The only thing that was stopping me from pulling off the side of the road was Heather doing the same thing. She was holding it as well. With a smile on my face, I suggested that we keep driving to see who could hold it longer. The person that peed their pants had to clean the car seats.

We made it to REI just in time. To continue working on my tough skills, I calmly walked around the car to open the door. I tried to act as natural as possible, grabbing my fanny pack from the back seat and walking towards the front entrance. I wish I could have run through the front doors and on to the bathroom. But with the pack in my hands I knew that I had a few minutes of waiting at customer service before being able to wander the store. The line wasn’t too long, I could wait it out. I told Heather that I would wait here in line and that she could go ahead and find the bathroom. “Hi, I need to return this and I have a package that I need to pick up.” The cashier asked for my name and went to the back in search of my pack. She came back empty handed and verified my name. My heart sank a little baby bit, and my thoughts returned to my ever stretching bladder. The lady was entering in some information on the computer with a confused look on her face. I really had to go. I didn’t think that I could last much longer, especially if the box was MIA. “Umm, is it alright if I run to the bathroom?” Heather directed me to the bathrooms in the back of the store where she hurried towards the door with a Women’s printed on it. “Didn’t you already go?” “No way – that would have been unfair – I was waiting for you.”

She beat me out of the restroom… which shouldn’t have happened – me being a man and she being a woman and all… Walking back to the front desk I almost felt like a million bucks - a couple pounds lighter but still with an aching in my lower abdomen. The lady brought out a backpack looking box and showed me that the ‘L’ of my last name had been cut off the label. I asked if she could hang onto the box for a little bit while I picked up a few other things in the store. She agreed and gave me a credit voucher for the fanny pack.

With a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye, I suggested to Heather that we start on one side of the store and work our way to the other, hitting every single isle. I felt a little bad when I stopped to play with random cool things that I saw along the way… After a few moments I would realize my ‘kid caught in a candy store’ syndrome and pull my shopping list back out. “Right… Backpack covers…”

My purchases included a bivy sack, sleeping pad, backpack cover, and paperwork pouch. I knew it would be an expensive day but rationalized my spending in two ways. One – It’s for my job. I spend more time out in the woods than I do anywhere else… so if I’m going to invest money to improve my standard of living, it’s smartest to do so for the wilderness. And two – I made a list. If it’s on the list than it’s not impulsive buying and I spend guilt free. The trouble came when I had to pick out a sleeping pad. Thermarest had so many options! Super compact, lots of loft, half sized, purple, lime green… I wanted something sturdy with a medium thickness, other than that I didn’t really care. I should have asked for someone to tell me about them, but instead just picked a decent looking one off the shelf and called it mine. To make sure I felt good about the decision, I walked around with it under my arm for awhile. We looked at a few other things and then called it a day. I still felt pretty solid about my REI Camp Bed so it came with me.

Leaving REI we were completely lost. And we were okay with that. We didn’t really have an agenda or place to be so we just drove randomly. I had heard of Vegas drive-through marriages and really wanted to see one for myself. Instead I saw a lot of billboards with half naked women on them. Heather and I the last couple days had been talking about eloping. This discussion continued in the car on the way. A drive through wedding would have been extremely convenient… you don’t even have to get out of the car! Our conversation moved towards parenting strategies and what we wanted for our kids. And that’s when it all blew up. I wanted athletics to be a part of their lives and she cared nothing for sports. Ouch. Subsequently we decided to hold off on the drive through marriage for a little bit until we could work out our differences ;).

We snacked on some Cheez-its in my car and started looking for a place to eat. In trying to decide which restaurant to stop at – Heather brought up that we didn’t have to eat at a restaurant, unless I wanted to have that ‘restaurant experience’ and all… I told her that I lived in a restaurant and didn’t mind eating elsewhere. We went to Smiths and picked up sandwich makings for a picnic instead. We got back into the car and headed off in another random direction to try and find a park of some sort to sit down at and eat. We passed a chapel with a circle of grass in front and decided that there was no better place. We circled around to the back of the building to try and get away from the noise of the busy road. There wasn’t any lawn back there, but we made due with a thrown blanket on the sidewalk in the shade. It was surprisingly peaceful… sun shining and birds chirping. I pulled out my wilderness journal and shared a few fun poems and stories. I was a little embarrassed, reading out loud stories about fictional animal warriors that I had made up or random poems that I had written. We danced randomly in the parking lot and sang silly songs.

On the way out I tried to find ‘The Strip’ that for me defines Las Vegas. We got close to the Space Needle looking tower (Stratosphere) but then gave up and headed for the freeway. I needed to fill up on gas, so I pulled in behind an older looking car with California license plates. I popped my gas door and stepped out to take off the gas cap. Randomly the Cali plates guy walked up from behind me and asked if he could fix the dent in the back of my car. “I could knock that out for ya for like, 15 bucks whadoya say?” I tried to peel him off by saying that it wasn’t my car (it’s my parents…). He then started asking for me to give him some money, to help feed his starving kids. “I came here looking for a job, wild goose chase I tell ya.” I pulled out the coins in my pocket and handed them over. My attitude was more towards getting the man to leave me alone rather than being charitable. Back in the car I started to reevaluate what I thought about beggars. I feel good about donating money – but hate to be taken advantage of or manipulated.

We happened upon the freeway after getting turned around a few times. I was glad to be headed home, but not looking forward to driving the 4 ½ hours back to the lodge. Heather pulled out some Celtic music that wasn’t half bad. ;) When we got back to Saint George we got ice cream cones and walked around in the rain. We even had a moment where we did a polka up the side walk. As I was leaving, Heather read and gifted me a poem that she had written about a feeling that she told me about earlier. It was a great poem; I was thoroughly impressed with her writing. We said our goodbyes and I jumped in the car for home.

Usually my rides back to the lodge take me four or five hours from Saint George because I end up leaving so late. I would make it about halfway home and then have to start pulling over for power naps to prevent myself from falling asleep at the wheel. Sometimes I set a 20 minute alarm, other times I just sleep. Consequently I am turning a two hour drive into a four or five hour drive. Tonight however was going to be different – I left around 8:30 with plans to be home no later than 10:30. Things were going well for me until I hit the base of the mountain. I gassed up at Pipe Springs, about 45 miles away from the lodge and headed up the hill. The rains that were dumping in Vegas and St. George were also dumping in Arizona – but as snow. It first started out as a little bit of slush that I had to slow down for. Soon after that the slush turned into a few inches of snow on the road that I had to drive over. My windshield wipers could hardly keep up with the galaxy hyperspace looking blizzard outside. I noticed a few ruts in the snow from a car that must have been ahead of me and decided it best to follow them. My heater couldn’t keep my windshield from fogging over and all my side windows were covered in snow. The ruts turned into what must have been a plowed lane that I could comfortably drive through. I caught up with the plow and another car driving right behind it. We caravanned for a bit until the road took a funny turn and the plow went off the road. Stuck. The man looked over his rig for a moment and then came and spoke to us behind him. I told him that I was just headed for the Lodge a few miles away. He said that the vehicle in front of me was also headed for the Lodge, and asked me to drive ahead leading him. I wondered if I could make it through but his confidence gave me enough courage to take the plunge.

The bumper of my little Honda was plowing snow the whole time. I did fairly well until my window fogged up something terrible and the road started another slight upgrade climb. Ever deepening snow and me trying to wipe the windshield down with a napkin lead to a complete stop. I tried backing up a little to get another run at it. Stuck. I could back my way down the hill but couldn’t get enough speed to tank up the hill and through the snow. I decided it would be best to wait for the plow to get unstuck and jump behind him once again.

After about a half hour wait, I spotted a rotating light in the only uncovered spot of my side view mirror. I could see him plow by the rig behind me, and then get out and shovel/push the rig onto plowed pavement. Next was my turn. He drove up near me, explained that he was going to ‘haul ass and blow right past me.’ Then he would continue plowing a hundred yards or so before backing up and digging me out. He blew past me alright, but didn’t make it very far before coming to a halt and spinning his tires. He spread sand as he backed down and tried once again. On the third or fourth try he was able to plow that hundred yards before coming back to help me out.

After about a 30 minute digging and pushing adventure, we were able to get my little Honda back onto cleared road. The plow guy explained that he didn’t have a lot of sand left in his truck so he’s not able to get a good grip on the road. He encouraged us to follow from a distance because he might have to do a lot of backing up and re-approaching. I got in my car excited to get moving once again – only to watch the plow get stuck once again. The more he spun his tires the further off the road and into the snow bank he slid. The plow man got out his square nosed shovel, dumped some sand from his truck, and started sanding the areas in front of his tires. Two or three times he tried moving without any luck. He repeated the process over and over until he was free at last and moving up the road.

We came to a fork in the road where the plow turned left. I wondered what was going on – if we were there and I just couldn’t see? But instead the plow man explained that he needed to stop at their sand yard and fire up the tractor to fill his truck back up. He’d be about 20 minutes. Over an hour later he returned to find our rigs snowed in once again. Another digging/pushing adventure and we were free. The plow rounded the corner back up the hill and bam! Stuck again! By this time the snow was at least 18 inches deep, and twice that on the sides of the roads. I took a few pictures on my camera phone and sent them to the lodge. “You gotta look outside and see this stuff! It’s really comin’ down!” I was at most 2 miles from the lodge, but hours from my bed. I asked them to keep a door open for me and they all went to sleep.

My snow filled adventure goes like this… Follow the plow until he gets stuck. Try and be a plow – fail – get stuck. Follow the plow again – plow gets stuck multiple times. Arrive at the lodge, park my car in the only plowed out lane and walk through thigh high snow to the lodge.

It took me over four hours to travel those last forty miles. And of course I barely made it to the bathroom. :)

My Bathroom Revelation

This is a journey entry I wrote the first night of training while in the field.


7 January, 2010 – Halfway between Rustler’s and Jackson

Our meeting started out in the Conference room of the RCA offices. I showed up just on time as people were sitting in a circle around a bunch of African drums. I was extremely relieved to have shown on time. I didn’t want to blow my shot. This morning in the shower I looked at my watch and somehow thought of the date. I knew yesterday was the 6th because I wrote it on my tip tally. For some reason I thought I had until tomorrow, Friday, to get to Enterprise. I shouted, ‘Oh no!’ and started toweling off as fast as possible. ‘Walker, I screwed up!’ I quickly dressed and got my things to the car. ‘Can you cover me Walker? I open on grill…’ I started the car, wrote Kelly the manager a note, and headed for the gas station. I hadn’t yet filled since retrieving the Walkers from St George. I saved the receipt to hopefully be reimbursed later. 5 miles down the road I thought I ought to call someone letting them know I was going to be late. I looked for my folder of paperwork. It wasn’t in my bag – not in the hatch… Freak! Back to the lodge.

I sped the whole way – passing two sheriffs along the way. I left at 7:4 and walked in the RCA doors at 10:05. Dang good time.

We were encouraged to play around with the drums for a bit on our own. Then we were brought together and played as a group. A man they called Lynx pounded out the heartbeat and the group followed along. The idea was learning to live together in harmony. Of the four beats in a measure, the first two represented the heart beat. Much like we are drawn to our Mother’s when we are an infant; beats one and two serve as the unifier. Once we pay homage to the heart beat then we have beats three and four to do our own variation. Doc. Dan, the clinical director, then explained that this next week of training was to see if we could follow the heart beat of RCA.

Lynx then pulled out a dry erase marker and took his place at the white board. He talked about the different ‘Ego-States’ that each person goes through. Of the 7 identified, only one is desirable – that of ‘Adult.’

After an hour or so of instruction, we were asked to fill out some paper work, take a urine test, and asked to pull out our stuff and start prepping for takeoff. Lila, AKA ‘Silent Sage,’ showed us how to pack a survival pack and set us free to do our own. I pulled my stuff out of my car and tied the saddest looking survival pack ever. I realized that I had forgotten my enamel ware cup in the kitchen sink back at the lodge, and had to scramble to get them to sell me a cooking pot before we left. We loaded up in the Suburban and put on our blindfolds. Students don’t need to know where they’re going. And at this moment – we were students.

After about an hour of driving, we pulled up to a place Sage called ‘Outpost.’ We took off our blindfolds and pulled our packs down from the rack on top. Outpost apparently was used for special occasions such as graduation. It had a fire pit and a few buildings with grass roof tops. We did a little more prep work and then hit the trail. Throughout the hike Safe would call out, ‘half quart.’ This meant that we had to show staff that we had half a quart, drink it, and then show it again to prove that we had drank the water. ‘Get a buddy and make sure they down half a quart.’

We only put in two or three miles that day. We stopped twice for breaks, ‘Half Quart! Along the way we learned names.
(Here are some notes I wrote down to help me remember who is who…)
Matt – Tall and bald. Super athletic.
Tim –
Caleb – BYU grad, former RCA employee, Earth name ‘Crow.’
Laura – Wild, outspoken, former wilderness worker
Kathy – Older woman
Emily – Sweet, soft spoken, almost cute.
Lila – AKA ‘Sage’ – Almost five years with RCA

About 6:30 we broke hike. (I’m not sure why I wrote it this way – but apparently ‘broke hike’ meant that we stopped hiking…) We had to half circle around Sage and do a chant. I was number one, so I started. “Trainees! Count off!” ‘One’ ‘Two’ ‘Three’ ‘Four’ ‘Five’ ‘Six’ ‘Seven.’ All together – “Trainees!” Sage’s response was, ‘That was pathetic. Try again.’ On the third time counting off we were loud enough to satisfy Sage. We were allowed to drop our bags and pull out our leather gloves for camp chores.

We were put to work digging holes, gathering wood, setting up a place to sleep, etc. We were allowed two cuts with a saw to make our digging sticks. After what seemed like three hours of digging we had a pit large enough. Sage started a coal and Caleb got us a roaring fire. I hauled in a few dead trees for firewood and for sitting. As I passed one of the guys their comment was, ‘Wow, looks like #1 has been busy!” We were asked to gather around the fire with our journals, water, and food. “Write the date, location, how many miles we hiked, and a page about whatever you want. Then on the backside write a half a page about a goal, and then a poem on the bottom half.”

I’m still writing… Everyone else was done and kinda waiting. “Are you waiting on me” Yup. “Oh, well I could write forever – can I finish up later?” The next thing to do was to wash up. Face, feet, hands. Sage pulled out a bag of small pellets that dissolved into toweletts. “Wash your face, check it off. And then your feet.”

We had to heat more water for our hands so I took the time to keep writing.


Goal:
The ultimate goal is Exaltation. However, a subgoal that I would like to work on throughout this week involves hard skills of camping/survival.
- Survival Pack – Accessible, Balance, Compact, Streamline
- Fires – Collecting fire equipment, proper use
- Overall Organization and sense of place/purpose

Poem
Gazing up into the Sky
I take the time to…
Admiring her beauty…

(Maybe some day I'll come back and finish this poem...)

Hello Once again!

It’s been awhile since I’ve had the time to do any blogging. I survived my training week, worked a double shift to start out, and finished all my phase work during my internship. I am now back at the lodge taking advantage of one of my breaks to sit down and type out a few stories. Yesterday I was lifting a heavy stone table and tweaked my back. As I laid down in bed last night I could feel all of my soar back muscles. When I woke up this morning, my back was no longer tender – but I had developed a rather painful and annoying kink in my neck. So as you read, imagine me sitting at a desk typing with my head tilted to one side to relieve the pain. :)

RCA - Committing Time

When we got in from the field Sage gave us some time to clean up a little. I put my stuff away in my car while the others used the showers first. I didn’t have a towel or soap with me, so I borrowed one off the wall and used some of the shampoo that was set on the bench. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Warm water all over my body never felt so good. The water running off of me had turned brown from the dirt and probably would have turned into mud had it not drained. In that moment the only thing better would have been a bathtub large enough to lay down in.

Sage sat us down in the Staff room and handed out to everyone a packet accompanied by a pen. “This is your written test, good luck.” Over the course of the week Sage had been teaching us different things about the program ranging from camp setup to star constellations to the different stages of change. Now we had to prove that we were paying attention. Some of the questions hadn’t been covered, while others were entirely too easy. Of the 50 or 60 questions, I missed 5 or less. Bam! We switched papers and went over the answers together. To finish things up, Sage pulled out a compass and GPS to show us how to orient ourselves with the field map. From there we had some paperwork to be doing. Fingerprints, W4 forms, automatic deposit, phase books, etc. A few of us also had the chance to meet with Mark Noe, AKA Earth Warrior. Warrior was over staff relations. He grabbed two of us at a time and took us into the administrative offices down the hall. Tim and I had already been fingerprinted so we went first. Warrior pulled me into his office first and sat me down in a comfy chair. He asked about how I’d found RCA, my desires to work, and what sort of time commitment I was hoping to give. I expressed a desire to work 8 months before heading back to school in September. We talked for a few more minutes about other things – school, girls… He passed on some feedback that he had received from Sage. Apparently I ask really good questions and grasp understanding very well. It felt really good to hear that. He thanked me for my time and I exited to the hall.

I later learned that contracts were only offered upon completion of the internship. Internships are the first three shifts out in the field, usually taking a month and a half. That puts me clean into March until I am offered a contract. March to September is only seven months – not quite the 8 that I had planned to give. The nice thing is that I am only required to stay 6 months. No contract is awarded, but if I were to complete my commitment I would be allowed to return next year to work again. However, sign an 8 months contract and receive a $1350 completion bonus at the end. Sign a year contract and be awarded $2000 for completion, have benefits after six months, and have access to pro gear deals. I don’t have to sign an 8 month contract… I could just put in 6 or 7 months before school and then come back the following winter for another 4 months during my off track...

The last couple days that I’ve been thinking about this I’ve come up with this explanation – and you readers are free to check my thinking.

First off - I’m not here because of money. I don’t NEED the money like some others do. Back at school I had a part time job that was paying for my living expenses, my school loans were at a minimum - I could have continued surviving just fine. Between the two jobs I’m working right now I plan to save as much as I can and put it away for some future need. Money is not the immediate issue.

Second – I want the experience. I want to have this on my resume in ten years when I apply for my first school administrative position. Though I don’t fully understand how valuable my stay here will be, I get the feeling that it will only boost my confidence with teenagers and be able to handle myself more professionally in sticky situations.

Third - I want to be able to experience the fullness of the program, not just put in a few months and get out. Let me explain – The state of Utah requires Field Instructors to have 6 months of experience working with youth before taking the role of Head Instructor and being able to lead a group. So – the first six months in the program I will be like an assistant staff – not able to lead my own group. If I were to only work the 7 months before heading back to school, I would only have a couple of weeks that I would be able to lead my own group. I would be just leaving as my opportunity for more involvement opened up.

Now – If I were to stay 8 month I would miss the starting date for Fall semester of school and have the rest of Fall and Winter semesters to do nothing. I might as well commit the year and work the whole time until returning to school next Spring.

Fourth – Though I’m taking time off of school, it’s not like I’m ditching to screw around. I’m working two jobs, saving my money, and gaining relative experience to my career goals.

To help me with my decision, I’ve talked to a few people that I trust will give me sound advice. My mother was one of the first people. She is the master of difficult decisions. Pro/Con graphs were her forte. Her only worry was that I would be away from the dating scene and put off marriage yet another year :). My next source of advice was my good friend and sister from another mother Alana Lewis. She didn’t like the idea of me being away for another year, but thought that it would be a good experience in the long run. My next consultant will be my best friend and cousin Bekah. Though I haven’t decided yet, I hope she can steer me one way or the other and help me to feel confident in that choice.

One wrench in the year plan would be taking time away from school. I am allowed only one semester personal deferment. If I stay the year, I would need to take off two. I called the Admissions office and explained the basics of my situation. She gave me a few options.

Option One – Withdraw from school and reapply at the end of the year. BYU-I has a 97% acceptance rate and would most likely take me back. However, when reapplying there would be no guarantee of getting put back on the same track, creating the possibility of a semester or two wait.

Option Two – I could take a one or two credit class online each semester to keep my enrollment status. I just had to be careful not to slack because if I bombed a one credit class my GPA would plummet and I would be put on Academic Probation. I would have to find a course that would be workable with my 8/6 schedule – allowing me to turn in assignments early/late.

So – this is my dilemma. Put in the minimum time requirement and not experience the program, or commit the year and take a few semesters off of school.

Jacob Lake - Snow Mobile Gang Round Three, Sunday School

Friday night after closing down we had a meeting with management. We went over rules and scheduling. Each night after close we had an activity planned. Saturday and Sunday nights were blocked out for Sunday School and Sacrament meeting. Salesi said that Gospel Doctrine class would be postponed a week because no one had been assigned yet, and it was too short notice to do so now. I volunteered myself to teach the class. I could prep a lesson during my break the following day. After the meeting I took the chance to square away my RCA work arrangement with Laura. At first I was kind of nervous bringing it up, hoping that she had already been informed. I didn’t want to spring something new on her and start off on her bad side. Luckily she already knew that my time was going to be limited and was extremely understanding and willing to work with my schedule. She basically told me that I was to manage my own time, informing her when I could and could not work. Thank you Laura. I blogged for a few hours and then hit the sack.

The following morning was the busiest I’d experience yet. A few of the Snowmobile Gang came in for breakfast, along with three other parties. I had two in the diner, and two on the counter. I was running from one place to the next to the next, tending to all four parties at the same time. This would be nothing to an experienced waiter – but for me it was clearly pushing my limits. And to make it worse, the kitchen was training a new employee as well, making things even slower. When I brought Tanner the bill, he asked for a lunch menu as well – that way he could put his order in now and have the food be ready by the time they came back.

Another fun party that came in later that day was a Hispanic group from Columbia. They were on a guided tour, visiting some of the attractions in the area. I wanted so bad to speak Spanish with them, but thought it better to hold off a bit. However, as I was waiting their table and listening to their conversation, it just slipped out as I asked for them to hand me their menu. Haha. They were pleasantly surprised and continued their order in their native language.

After a busy morning, I took my break time to organize a Gospel Doctrine binder. I grabbed the glass of orange juice that I had poured myself four hours before, but not had the chance to drink. I found an empty binder in the office and printed out the first ten lessons of the 2010 Old Testament Teachers manual. I stapled each packed and whole punched them to be put in the binder. This way whoever was going to be teaching could just grab the next lesson out of the binder and be good to go. I also printed off a few other talks that I thought were amazing along with a copy of the Proclamation.

My lesson that night was the first out of the Old Testament. It was all about the ‘work and glory’ of God through the plan of salvation. I did an overview of the last two lessons dealing with family and Zion, and thought it extremely insightful to include a few parts from a talk from Julie Beck to seminary teachers on the family. She spelled out the importance of the family, and how the reason for everything we do revolves around it. The Creation – to have a place for families to be born. The Fall – to allow families to grow. The Atonement – to bring families back together. Every part of Christ’s doctrine points towards families. And those that oppose families ultimately oppose the plan of salvation, labeling themselves as an antichrist. Powerful.