Be safe...

A couple of weeks ago, I got a call from Melanie—short and sweet-- as is the custom when she is at a base camp for Outward Bound. “ Mom, can you call me back on this land line?” (Why is it that OB bases are never in a place that has cell service? Dumb question, I know; that’s the point. Wilderness.)  Calling her back, she told me she was leaving the next day and would be back in five or six days.  As part of being Course Director for two groups already in the field, she needed to meet up with them: hike in, find each group, check in with staff, then reverse that trip. She would be leaving at noon the following day, hike until dark, sleep out under the stars, then hike for another eight hours before meeting up with the group. Innocently asking who would be her hiking partner, she stated that it would be a solo trip.

Okay, I have to tell you that for me, that is just a scary scenario. Hiking alone, in the dark, carrying sixty pounds, trudging for miles with a map and compass. Like I said, “scary” is the nicest words I could use to describe such a venture. When asked if she was worried about this solo part of her job, Melanie said, “Mom, I’ll have a sat. phone.” “Well”, I thought to myself, “ I am sure the bears will be completely aware of that.” For a person who finds the wilderness daunting and yes, a bit terrifying, her joy in this activity is a mystery. Just walking my dogs through our local trails at the nature preserve, I have the urge to bring breadcrumbs (or my trusty daughter) to lead me back to my car. Every fork resembles the one that I thought I remembered from my last hike, but I’m just not sure. But that is my “stuff” so I mumble a simple “Be safe”-- words I have learned to use to “let” her go. (As if I had any choice.)

All this got me thinking about how on earth she got this brave (reckless) and smart (totally stupid), to attempt such an endeavor. In fact, how did either of my children get to the point that they are doing such incredibly difficult and taxing things with their lives?

(Justin’s childhood passion for epic stories, over the years developed into a career in the video game industry. (Thank you George Lucas!) Now as Game Director in the last throes of a two-year production cycle, he works sixteen-hour days, seven days a week while being husband and dad to two rambunctious boys. His story is it’s own and one that deserves another blog entirely but being Always a Mom, he is never forgotten. )

With Melanie, the desire to be on the go started early-- the younger sister keeping up with everyone, especially her big brother.  Appearing fearless from an early age despite more than her share of childhood illnesses, jumping, climbing (as a two year old, dancing on the kitchen table when my back was turned), and skiing morphed into tumbling, and hurling her body with abandon when she discovered gymnastics at age four. Tenacious, she was daring and bold, determined to be her own person.

But it was at age fourteen when invited on a wilderness-backpacking trip that she discovered a world that sustains her even today. After climbing mountains in the Cascades, the returning to her suburban existence paled to the mystery she discovered in the mountains. Struggling up rugged mountain passes life was vibrant.  From the peaks-- miraculous. Except for 2004 when cancer treatment was in its’ earliest and most virulent form, each summer since she has spent significant time hiking, rock climbing, kayaking, trekking up and down hillsides breathing passion and expectancy into her in the same way that stories energize and give Justin life.

Eventually there was work leading trips, but it is an industry that is seasonal, challenging, exhausting and largely without benefits. Why does she do it? While she is the best person to answer that (Mels want to give it a shot?); it is hard for me to comprehend that drive to take on a life filled with risks and hardship.  

Then I remember the sound of her voice when she emerges from the woods and, I “get it”.  Maybe the first time that happened was in the summer of 2005, a year after her cancer diagnosis and surgery.  Melanie was scheduled to co-lead a fourteen-day trip in the Pacific Northwest. Having watched her struggle for a year with her energy, I was not at all sure she was up to the physical demands and I was worried. After flying west, she took up residence in my thoughts as we vacationed on our boat. One muggy Saturday after she had been gone a week, Chris and I sprawled on a lawn listening to music in at the Newport Jazz Festival, when my cell phone rang. It was number that had far too many digits and I almost ignored it, but picking it up, I heard Melanie’s voice clear and strong, “Hi Mama!!” Knowing my concern, her wise co-leader, our friend Bill Harper, had let Melanie sneak off with the satellite phone to call and say all was well. But she did not have to tell me that; I could hear it in the strength and tenor of her voice. There was a revived of hope and joy I had not heard for months. (A week later calling the Harper’s home I was told she had been sleeping for eighteen hours.)

Even having sapped all her energy, that trip healed far more than it drained her.

Perhaps for the first time I began to comprehend how much working in the wilderness can be life giving. Living in, and being a student of, the wild, builds courage and wisdom; doing it with others teaches cooperation and mutual interdependence—something it seems our world could use a bit of right now. Interacting with at risk youth, Melanie has also seen how the experience impacts young hearts, minds, and actions as students come to find an inner resolve they might never have suspected was in them. Standing with youth as they find direction, hope, and perhaps even a new place in the world seems to be worth the exhaustion and lack of steady income.

I was not surprised when several years ago she announced an epiphany that had come to her. She wanted to take other young adults cancer survivors into the wilderness, and she set out to find a place to do that. An Internet search confirmed her suspicion that few such opportunities exist. But then she found a newly forming nonprofit called True North Treks. If you haven’t done so before, please look at their website (www.truenorthtreks.org) and some of the amazing folks who are part of this organization. In a few weeks along with several colleagues, Melanie will be leading the second True North Treks trip, this time on the Olympic Peninsula.

Now I hear Melanie tell me of some adventure and as scary as that might be to me, I have come to deeply appreciate that this is part of who she is and a gift she gives others. So while I may wonder where she got it, I am glad for her and for the world that she did.

P.S. And today I say my “Be safe” prayers for all who are “out” right now (including my son-in-law, Ben).