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.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
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. :)
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. :)
Friday, February 19, 2010
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...)
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. :)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Jacob Lake - The Snowmobile Gang
Here at the lodge they say that one day in July brings in as much business as the entire winter season. We look forward to each weekend when fine gentlemen let their hair down after a hard weeks work and bring their snow sleds out for some fun. My first encounter with ‘The Snowmobile Gang,’ as we call them, was the night before New Year’s Eve. An older man with a shaggy beard and out of control hair walked up to the counter and asked to be seated in the dining room. I told him that we closed that room for the winter and that he was welcome to take a seat at the counter. To my surprise, he insisted that I let him go into the diner like they did the last time that they were here. Mike came to the rescue and told me that it was alright for groups to use the dining room. Huh. I apologized and led them to a table.
Jim seemed like a nice guy. He gave me a hard time for my many mistakes. I find that it’s when they don’t say anything that you know they’re really annoyed. Jim and his 5 other friends sat down at the table and started their beer tab. “I’ll take a Michelle Ultra” “I’ll have a Coors Light” “I want a Merlot” and so on. I wrote them down as best I could – having only heard of Coors before. I grabbed the cans and bottles from the alcohol cooler and set them on a tray. Kelly was shadowing me the whole time. He chuckled and suggested that some time I ought to learn my alcohol. I took the tray back to the table and started handing out their drinks. “I asked for Coors Light, and I told you three times… this Coors isn’t Light. Looks like you’re buying this one ;)” My apologies continued as I stumbled through the night. When I brought back the correct can I set it on the table next to the man and opened it up for him. When I returned to the table a few minutes later I noticed that there was beer all over the table. It was slowly leaking out of the top of the can. “What the…” I asked the man what was going on and he taught me about frozen beer. I guess the cooler was on too high and had turned all my alcohol to ice. I cleaned up the table and got another can from the back storage.
The Snowmobile Gang seemed to find my errors entertaining. Kelly helped to laugh it off by offering that it was my first couple days doing this. Jim seemed to take it well, and turned the conversation into questions about school, life, future plans and of course girls.
As I brought them their bill Jim suggested I get a little more practice in before tomorrow, ‘cause they could be back again. A few others started talking as Jim tried to introduce all of his friends to me. “Now this is Joyce, and this is Kevin, and my wife…” Everything else was lost. As they started to get up to leave, Jim spoke up again by saying, “And ya know what young one, I’ll make ya a little deal. If you can remember all our names tomorrow when we come, I’ll tip you one hundred percent.” I gave a few chuckles and told him that I hadn’t gotten all their names yet. “Sure you did, I just gave them to you.” I named those that I could… but the names of Jim’s wife and his Coors ‘Light’ friend sitting next to him were nonexistent. “Fine, I’ll give you a hint. Her name starts with a C, and his starts a T. It’s a Mormon name too so that one oughta be easy!” Christy? Thomas? I had nothing.
Then next day I told the crew what the deal was - all their names for 100% tip, or a big fat goose egg for failure. Their excitement died off a little when I informed them that I was missing two of their names. Ofa a few hours later came to the rescue. After having served them breakfast that morning, she handed me a piece of paper with each of their names written on it. “Now here Vita, go study it and bring home ‘da big one.” To help remember their names, I drew out a table and 6 chairs where each person was sitting last night and labeled them accordingly. Ofa quizzed me randomly throughout the afternoon trying to engrain their names into my brain. For the life of me it seemed as if I couldn’t remember the name of Jim’s wife.
When six o’clock rolled around sure enough Jim and his gang walked in the door. Jim poked fun and asked if the dining room was closed again. Their party had grown a few since last night, three new faces. They took their seats at the long table in the diner and called out their beers once again. “Now David, do you remember what I drink?” I could only remember the ‘Ultra’ part. “That’s right, Michelle Ultra.” “…and a Coors LIGHT for you, with a Merlot wine for you…” I gave them a small surprise with my memory of alcohols I’d just barely been introduced to. Overall dinner seemed to go well. I was still a little clumsy and not incredibly efficient with my motions, forgetting things and taking excessive trips back to the kitchen. After having taken down their order and dropped it off at the kitchen, I found out that we were all out of chicken strips. Oh no… Jim ordered those chicken strips… I slowly walked back to Jim in the diner. He could see the discomfort on my face. “Jim, I have some bad news for you…” I put my arm on his shoulder. “You don’ have no chicken tenders lef do ya.” I shook my head, awaiting what I feared to soon follow. However, to my surprise, it didn’t seem to faze him as he had a second choice out of his mouth within seconds.
Jim and his Snowmobile gang finished up their meals and asked for their ticket. Before I handed it over I asked Jim a question. “Jim, do you recall what you said last night about me remember all your names?” Silence. “Do you remember Tanner? And you Cory, and you Kevin, and Joyce…” I named every single one of them. Smiles and claps came from everyone at the table but Jim. I set the $152 ticket on the corner of the table and walked back out of the room. As I was leaving I could hear Jim asking, “What’d I say?” The table around him replied almost in unison, “You promised 100 percent tip if he remembered our names!” I was all smiles, ear to ear covering my entire face.
Jim seemed like a nice guy. He gave me a hard time for my many mistakes. I find that it’s when they don’t say anything that you know they’re really annoyed. Jim and his 5 other friends sat down at the table and started their beer tab. “I’ll take a Michelle Ultra” “I’ll have a Coors Light” “I want a Merlot” and so on. I wrote them down as best I could – having only heard of Coors before. I grabbed the cans and bottles from the alcohol cooler and set them on a tray. Kelly was shadowing me the whole time. He chuckled and suggested that some time I ought to learn my alcohol. I took the tray back to the table and started handing out their drinks. “I asked for Coors Light, and I told you three times… this Coors isn’t Light. Looks like you’re buying this one ;)” My apologies continued as I stumbled through the night. When I brought back the correct can I set it on the table next to the man and opened it up for him. When I returned to the table a few minutes later I noticed that there was beer all over the table. It was slowly leaking out of the top of the can. “What the…” I asked the man what was going on and he taught me about frozen beer. I guess the cooler was on too high and had turned all my alcohol to ice. I cleaned up the table and got another can from the back storage.
The Snowmobile Gang seemed to find my errors entertaining. Kelly helped to laugh it off by offering that it was my first couple days doing this. Jim seemed to take it well, and turned the conversation into questions about school, life, future plans and of course girls.
As I brought them their bill Jim suggested I get a little more practice in before tomorrow, ‘cause they could be back again. A few others started talking as Jim tried to introduce all of his friends to me. “Now this is Joyce, and this is Kevin, and my wife…” Everything else was lost. As they started to get up to leave, Jim spoke up again by saying, “And ya know what young one, I’ll make ya a little deal. If you can remember all our names tomorrow when we come, I’ll tip you one hundred percent.” I gave a few chuckles and told him that I hadn’t gotten all their names yet. “Sure you did, I just gave them to you.” I named those that I could… but the names of Jim’s wife and his Coors ‘Light’ friend sitting next to him were nonexistent. “Fine, I’ll give you a hint. Her name starts with a C, and his starts a T. It’s a Mormon name too so that one oughta be easy!” Christy? Thomas? I had nothing.
Then next day I told the crew what the deal was - all their names for 100% tip, or a big fat goose egg for failure. Their excitement died off a little when I informed them that I was missing two of their names. Ofa a few hours later came to the rescue. After having served them breakfast that morning, she handed me a piece of paper with each of their names written on it. “Now here Vita, go study it and bring home ‘da big one.” To help remember their names, I drew out a table and 6 chairs where each person was sitting last night and labeled them accordingly. Ofa quizzed me randomly throughout the afternoon trying to engrain their names into my brain. For the life of me it seemed as if I couldn’t remember the name of Jim’s wife.
When six o’clock rolled around sure enough Jim and his gang walked in the door. Jim poked fun and asked if the dining room was closed again. Their party had grown a few since last night, three new faces. They took their seats at the long table in the diner and called out their beers once again. “Now David, do you remember what I drink?” I could only remember the ‘Ultra’ part. “That’s right, Michelle Ultra.” “…and a Coors LIGHT for you, with a Merlot wine for you…” I gave them a small surprise with my memory of alcohols I’d just barely been introduced to. Overall dinner seemed to go well. I was still a little clumsy and not incredibly efficient with my motions, forgetting things and taking excessive trips back to the kitchen. After having taken down their order and dropped it off at the kitchen, I found out that we were all out of chicken strips. Oh no… Jim ordered those chicken strips… I slowly walked back to Jim in the diner. He could see the discomfort on my face. “Jim, I have some bad news for you…” I put my arm on his shoulder. “You don’ have no chicken tenders lef do ya.” I shook my head, awaiting what I feared to soon follow. However, to my surprise, it didn’t seem to faze him as he had a second choice out of his mouth within seconds.
Jim and his Snowmobile gang finished up their meals and asked for their ticket. Before I handed it over I asked Jim a question. “Jim, do you recall what you said last night about me remember all your names?” Silence. “Do you remember Tanner? And you Cory, and you Kevin, and Joyce…” I named every single one of them. Smiles and claps came from everyone at the table but Jim. I set the $152 ticket on the corner of the table and walked back out of the room. As I was leaving I could hear Jim asking, “What’d I say?” The table around him replied almost in unison, “You promised 100 percent tip if he remembered our names!” I was all smiles, ear to ear covering my entire face.
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