Southwest Field Studies 2003 Field Reports


Other Years

January 13, 2003

Big Bend National Park
by Katy Nicholson 2004 and Beirne Roose-Snyder 2004

Southwest Field Studies 2003 finished an intensive three days of driving, and are now getting an introduction to the Chihuahuan Desert in Big Bend Ranch State Park, Texas. Yesterday we did an introductory hike into Closed Canyon in the morning, with the accompaniment of 2001 EC graduate (and 1999 SWFS participant) Lauren Mork. Lauren’s currently working down here at the Voyageur Outward Bound School, and lended us a hand with plant identification. After lunch we did mapped transects for plants. We identified species like ocotillo, creosote bush, leatherstem, and hedgehog cactus.

We spent today at the Barton Warnock Environmental Center, which is about thirty miles East. We did a walk and talk with the extremely knowledgeable David Long- getting even more in-depth information about plant, cultural, and animal life.

We have had lessons about outdoor education and cultural issues of the Southwest. Tomorrow we get ready for eight days canoeing down the Rio Grande. We will leave from Redford, Texas.

Personal highpoints include:

January 24, 2003

Canoeing the Rio Grande, Texas

Southwest Field Studies is camping in Rio Grand Village in Big Bend National Park after a eight-day canoe trip. The canoe trip was our first expeditionary experience. Canoeing on the Rio Grande allowed us to develop (or strengthen) our whitewater canoeing skills. We went over Class III rapids which required a high level of skill and concentration. At night we camped on the banks of the river and enjoyed getting to know each other through setting up camp, cooking dinner, academic discussions about wilderness and culture, and endless talking and laughing. Special highlights throughout the trip were beautiful Santa Elena Canyon and a day hike up Fern Canyon with bouldering. We were taught whitewater skills by Jordan Taylor 1999 (and Southwest Alumnus 1998).

Now we have time to wash up, get clean showers, contact friends and family and get ready to head back on the road. Next stop: Hueco Tanks in Western Texas where we head into the Sonoran Desert ecosystem.

Below you will find student accounts of days we spent on the river:

January 16, 2003 Rio Grande Canoe Trip: Day 1 (Matt Lindeman ’05)

Today was a smooth day. After framing the trip as one of personal discovery and of group development, the pressure to make miles along the Río Grande lifted like the morning dew of our campsite. We settled back into our canoes and, after about an half an hour of paddling, had worked out the morning kinks and sluggishness. Once the sun was up and over the surrounding Mesas of the landscape, we were all at ease, flowing with the current through minor riffles as gentle headwinds kept us cool and comfortable. Just before lunch, we came upon Panther Rapid and decided that running it would not be the wisest option for our group, so we lined it, pulling our gear-laden canoes through rocks and tricky currents from the safety of shore.

After a well deserved lunch and rest, we were back on the river with renewed energy. Though we had all agreed that mileage was not a priority, we made great time and pulled out at our campsite just in time to collect firewood and make dinner with plenty of daylight. Dinner and discussion were followed by a stunning moonrise, and our group of sleepy, sun-soaked Southwesters happily snuggled through the chilly January night, eager for another great day.

January 17, 2003 Ledge Rock Rapids (Alisa Damholt ’04)

At 7:30 AM we awoke to icy tarp flaps, frosty grass, and hot drinks. We broke camp and lowered our gear into the muddy canoes under a piercing blue sky. Shoving off, we all expressed a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the upcoming rapids. Today we were to reach the next big set of rapids- Ledge Rock.

Approaching the rapid, we pulled off and beached our canoes on a rocky sand bar after having run the small rapids leading up to Ledge. Scouting the rapid, Jordan pointed out several pros and cons of running the rapid vs. lining it. Even though we had chosen to line Panther Rapids, the entire group expressed a sentiment for running this one. Jordan presented us with three options- we could line the entire rapid series, half line it, or run the entire course; it was simply up to each set of canoe partners.

We came upon the all-women canoe group from the previous day also scouting the rapid and facing the same decision. The rapid presented a difficult challenge for all of us- the only clear route through involved tandem back ferries (something we hadn’t covered yet) . However, the difficulty lay less in navigating the rapid itself than in maintaining a clear link with your partner. This requires enough communication and concentration to complete a two-partner move as one, as well as remembering the path you had planned to take while paddling it in a rushing river.

The first canoe from the other group shot down the rapid, executing a perfectly timed back ferry, enabling their set up to slide them through the rocks and safely into an eddy. The second group, using their painters (ropes connected to the bow and stern of the canoe), walked along shore and lined their boat half way, negating the need for a back ferry. They shoved off mid-rapid and shot into the same eddy. The third canoe of women experienced difficulty in making the ferry, and ended up slamming their boat into a boulder mid-stream. They worked quickly and efficiently, however, to keep their boat afloat, eventually making the eddy turn.

The majority of our group opted to run the full course, with only one canoe choosing to take the half line option. Each canoe made it through without dumping, though a few went backwards, sideways, and with plenty of expletives. The power of the rapid reminded all of us that our boats were merely carved pieces of wood on a violent piece of water. The river allowed us to play for a while that day, and the exhilaration we experienced would not be easily forgotten.

As we made camp that night, a triumphant feeling pervaded the group, lifting our spirits. We had conquered a rapid beyond our skill level with little to no hitches involved. We reviewed the day under a blanket of stars and slept soundly in our bags to the sounds of the Rio. Personally, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

January 18, 2003 Mataderas Canyon (Natalie George ’04)

Today we were able to meet the illustrious beer-drinking goat of Lajitas, TX, by the name of Clay Henry during our stop on the Rio Grande. The campsite we stayed in had a beautiful view on all sides, surrounded by limestone formations. After dinner, we chilled around a fire, provided by Matt, and did three-minute auto bios for our evening activity. Teaming up with a partner, we each had three minutes in which to sum up our lives into some sort of cohesion. Forming a large group once again, we each introduced our partner and told the group their 3-minute life story. We all got a little more perspective on our teammates as we munched on home made cinnamon rolls under a blanket of stars. We stuck around to talk of our favorite books, movies, childhood adventures, and people we would like to meet. The moon rose across the Milky Way, as it has consistently for nights now, showing off its brilliance among the stars.

January 19, 2003 Entrance Rapids (Andrew Fine ’04)

I’m sitting on top of a hill; Prickly-Pear Cactus, Lechegilla, Leather Stem, Whitethorn Acacia and Mexican Christmas Tree are all around me. To my right I look down into a valley where the river snakes around 500 foot mesas and next to our campsite. To my left a very tall but narrow mesa stands like a lone sentinel on guard. A cold strong wind whips at my pack coming from the massive Santa Elena Canyon. The rapids roar beneath as the sun slowly sets in front of me over the hills in the distance. This is a perfect end to a great day, and yet this isn’t a rare scene to see at the end of a day of paddling on the Rio Grande.

We began our morning with a lyrical wake-up by Devin followed by a moaning from under the tarps. There were soon gasps as the first of us bared skin to the frigid air outside of our sleeping bags. The sun couldn’t come over the mountains fast enough as we packed our things and ate breakfast. We gritted our teeth as we pulled on frozen socks and pants, singing songs and dancing around to try to warm ourselves up. We packed the boats and were ready to go. After this, Jordan gave us a lesson on maneuvering a canoe into an eddy and then moving back into the fast moving current of the river as we all watched from shore. Everyone then moved into boats one canoe at a time shooting down the rapid, and practicing their eddy turns and peal outs at the bottom. Each boat was moving with ease and finesse in the moving current of the river with smiles on everyone’s faces. We then continued down river, playing in smaller rapids as we went; practicing our new skills and even learning “Sexy ‘S’ Turns.”

We stopped for lunch as our stomachs began to growl, and ate heartily. After lunch and much de-layering and sun screen application to newly bared skin, Ellen taught us “The Beaver Song” and we all sang it together before heading back to our boats and back on the water. We took our time down the river, watching for birds and other creatures of the desert and discussing the intriguing geology of the area (this trip can’t be only fun, this is class for us you know). After a few more fun rapids we arrived at our campsite for the night.

For the last 10 days we’ve grown closer as a group. We’ve gotten to know each other’s personalities, and how we all work as a group together. Now we sit here, staring down the massive Santa Elena Canyon, not knowing what we will find inside its depths. We have only had ten days together out of four months; we have a lot of unknown territory still to be explored ahead of us on Southwest Field Studies.

January 20, 2003 Santa Elena Canyon (Katy Nicholson ’04)

Today we entered Santa Elena Canyon. Entrance Rapids, with grassy riparian habitats, gave way suddenly to massive canyon walls. As we gazed at the walls of Santa Elena- reds, whites, greys- silence set in. The constant in and out rhythm of paddling almost became a distraction as we wanted to take it all in. The canyon was sort of a reward for our six days of work, much like the Rio itself, which has flowed through miles of grassy and sandy banks, border towns separating two big countries, comes here to breathe a sigh of contentment as it meanders through this magical place. Sunlight disappears in the canyon; the rock walls are so shear (1,500 feet tall in some places) and close to the river, only parts of the canyon ever get any light. Some areas and caves never see the sun. By the end of the day, we had a place in our hearts of the canyon. For me, traveling into the depth of the canyon begged me to reach deep into my soul. At our first stop in the canyon we collected ourselves and Jordan talked about how sacred the canyon has been and is for him. We all listened and agreed with silence, letting the canyon over take us. In many ways it was almost overwhelming and to take it all in, I wanted to plaster myself against the walls, live and breathe everything that is the canyon, feel its magic in my body. My favorite memory was after we had been in the canyon for a little bit and the darkness had settled in, we went around a bend where the light had stayed and it bounced off the grass growing around fallen boulders. To me it looked like paradise or the closest definition I have for it.

In many ways the Santa Elena is not a place to live. Flat ground and grassy banks are rare in this landscape. Nothing but wall and water. There are some microhabitats higher up in the canyon walls where prickly pear and creosote have established on flat surfaces. But it is dark and small and limited. Looking up at the sky you see a cookie cutter pattern of blue, a miniature sky. This is the world you know when you are in the canyon. The sun and moon rise late and leave early. It is the beauty you fall in love with, light from the sun and moon dance across these incredible walls, experimenting with different mixes of paints. I found all I wanted to do was look up-get rid of my hat and sunglasses that I had worn for the rest of the trip- and tilt my head to look up. This comes at a risk, however. While some of the river through the canyon is as flat at the walls are vertical-there are many shallow rapids which are difficult to maneuver. You steer through them by trying to apply pressure with your paddle as it scrapes bottom. When you get past that, you hit deep water and the current takes you straight into the canyon wall you have been admiring for so long. This requires a lot of work and must be applied spontaneously. You have to inch sideways away from the wall as the current moves you closer. “Draw, Katy, draw hard!” There are many of these rapids throughout the canyon. After you go through each one, you want to go back to your meditation on life and gaze at the sunlight playing on canyon wall. “Katy, paddle forward, why aren’t you paddling?”

After two hours of incorporating the canyon and its significance into our lives (none of us were saying anything much because not just any words can echo through Santa Elena. . . with the exception of lots of laughter) we entered the famous Rock Slide rapid- a Class IV when the water is high and not intended for armature backcountry boaters from Earlham. The low water level made Rock Slide less of a challenge and we had a confidence that could only come from six days of canoeing through rapids, learning from a great teacher (and being able to apply that knowledge immediately). More that that we had a desire to have everyone succeed and to succeed well, which came from six days of laughter and bonding in canoes and out of canoes. But, we took it slow. Jordan and Ellen lead us through this boulder obstacle course-showed us how to make our boats have more power than the 10 foot boulders and the mass of water heading straight for each one. Each turn was laid out for us, in sections. River right of the big boulder, river left of the small one. Fighting the current, following the current. It required our full attention, dedication and a lot of sheer skill. The first section required paddling strength to be right of the current and then a sharp right turn between two boulders (we had to get out to get perspective on this move). And that was the first step. We all made a perfect maneuver. The next step required less precision and strength , but had one critical step that necessitated a move away from a boulder partially submerged. Devin and Andrew went first and gracefully headed smack into the boulder. After much leaving, backing up, hitting it again, strong paddling, collecting water and leaning again, they made it- the good part was they directed us on what not to do. One more section, which was simple in comparison, and we headed for grassy meadows with sun streaming down on it, to eat lunch, catch our breath, calm our nerves and enjoy all that is Santa Elena and the sweetness of getting through the Rock Slide in good form. Laugher echoed back over the Rock Slide as we relaxed in the meadow. Another treat for hard work and dedication- two peregrine falcons danced against the crystal blue sky at the top of the canyon walls expanding their wings to catch the sweet warm air drifting from the canyon.

The hard part of the day was over and we drifted to our camp site- a deposited sand bar with some vegetation plastered against the wall. The sun was already gone by the time we set up camp-3 PM, although warmth seems to stay in the canyon and there is very little wind. Matt provided entertainment with his graceful exit from the stern on the canoe into unexpectedly deep water and a reentry from the bank to take a little swim in the grand river. Our final adventure of the day was sliding all of our gear up a steep slippery bank which required a fair effort of pushing and pulling and tumbling back down. Then we were free to explore and reflect on where we were, what we had done, meditations on river and canyon. That night we slept under a half sky full of stars framed by the canyon walls of a place we were lucky enough to call home for two nights.

Tuesday, January 21, 2003 (Devin Elgert)

Today for once we do not have a one-night stand and are thus afforded the option of sleeping a little later! We bake bread for our daytrip to fern canyon, a spectacular outlet within the Santa Elena canyon. Here we go to bouldering – sashaying and shimmying up, on, between, along (almost any preposition would fit here) and through chalky white boulders (limestone) and rock formations. It was as much a dance as it was an outdoor event. All of us were christened with some canyon water; most of us were thoroughly soaked by the end; some of us took a refreshing, cleansing dip clad only in gaiety and rejuvenation. The trip also proved to be utilitarian as well as entertaining – we took back water gathered from a food-coloring like tinaja.

At night we bade farewell to the Rio Grande as we received bracelets and a bead to commemorate the trip. Many of us were lachrymose about ending our first back country experience and leaving the river; many of us were still in complete awe by the power of the Rio even at relatively low volume, and a few of us were proud of what we had accomplished but content to know that dry (indeed, very dry!) land and access to slightly more amenities lay ahead after tomorrow morning. Alas, the first leg of the outdoor education portion of SWFS was behind us!

January 22, 2003 (Leah Green ’05)

The moon is filling up from the bottom in almost full reflection of the desert. The black paper cut outline of the Chisos Mountains-the desert horizon.

And we have a horizon again-here in this packed-sand backyard-junk yard home where we slept another night a very long week ago before canoeing the Rio Grande-before entering the time seasoned sanctity of Santa Elena Canyon whose chapel walls rose so high we only watched the moon slide over a slot of sky dipping skirt of silver down the stone to sand where we slept by the river then up the other side and gone again.

Thought it was like nothing else to watch the same shadow shape dressed in gold and silver sink and rise on the Western Canyon wall with the slow coming and going of every river day-it is good to again have a horizon.

Today was full-and here back in the dark of scattered Creosote, I am heavy with the good of it-the sleeping bag will feel good. We woke this morning at 6 AM and paddled out of Santa Elena in silence. After river washing out all the canoes and VOBS gear and giving group feedback to our supreme student leaders (Heck yeah, Matt, Natalie, and Kristin-Heck yeah!) We climbed into the van dusty and rank and it felt home again, our Southwest library, snacks in a box and plant transect instructions still rubbing off the van window. The van-our chalkboard saddle, home. The leaders all rode with VOBS and it made me smile that the 12 of us all fit in one van-that the Rio trip was over but we weren’t going home now-that somehow, we were all still there-not leaving back into our separate lives-that our adventure together is still so young. And we drove out into the desert sun coming in real through the windows to our dirt and dust and smell James Taylor- “We live in the saddle and we sleep in the canyon” all around us the way that music can be all around you when you let it be-when you haven’t heard recorded music from speakers in a week. The “Spanish Leather” Mix CD pleased us all. We cleaned up gear at VOBs feeling like summertime in the sunshine with Bob Marley loud.

Then came back to this junk yard, Bird Bathed and brushed our hair. Feeling much cleaner than we actually were-we arrived at the house of Enrique and Ruby Madrid for dinner at 5:30-it had been dark for many hours before we started eating. For the time in between we followed Enrique’s thoughts and family history, politics, and philosophy as they eventually meandered into his kitchen. Large red and white checkered tiles, stopped at a curved, white counter where perfect tortillas are made. Enrique has deciphered the formula for the perfectly round flour tortilla. This formula, written in permanent black marker on a large piece of scrap paper is spread out on his refrigerator door, its uncrumbled corners held by magnets that are not moved. “Ya squeeze it our like mud between your toes” Enrique explained showing us how to poke the dough up through our thumb and forefingers and pinch it off into small spheres, the orbs from which we were to bring forth our exactly circular planes-a foolproof formula which resulted infallibly in many perfectly round tortillas from Enrique and many other interesting shapes from the rest of us. “14 1/2 pounds of pressure” he told us “rotate 72 degrees” and we smiled and kneaded and pulled and rolled dozens of ameoba shaped tortillas which were cooked on a pan on the small stove top (20 seconds-flip-60 seconds- filp- 40 seconds) and eaten with refried beans, guacamole, salsa, and rice (the creation of all of which were thoroughly extrapolated by Enrique and carried out by Ruby and ourselves)

I cannot remember a time when food was better, hotter, more appreciated, more known full-process from beginning to end, more relished or more gored and we sat in that. Kitchen cats constantly appearing around corners bright green jalapenos and red tomatoes and a huge pot of starring bean and flat warm bread, filling me up as Enrique explained to me how a perfect tortilla is created just the same way that universe was formed.

The glowing digital clock in the corner of the book and photo-cluttered living room read 11:07 when Jay and Marcie and Ellen peeled us off Enrique’s couch where we one-by-one slumped and cozied heaviy with tortillas, information and sleep. They put us back in the vans and we drove home to this desert junkyard.

Tomorrow we pack up the trailer and head to Big Bend National Park, mail, laundry and showers.

February 5, 2003

In Search of The Elusive Rufus-backed Robin by Jay Roberts

It all started one morning in the Santa Rita mountains of southern Arizona. We were camped high up in Madera Canyon with Bill Buskirk- our visiting Earlham Biologist. He had taken us here ostensibly to teach us something about the natural history of the Sonoran desert and to go over elevational transects- the variations in flora and fauna that occur with changes in altitude. We all knew, however, that Bill had a few ulterior motives to this particular site. Madera Canyon just happens to be one of the birding meccas of the United States. And Bill happens to be one passionate birder.

The Rufus Backed Robin is, apparently, one rare bird here in the United States. It is not rare at all in Mexico but that seems to be beside the point. I am learning that “rare” in the birding world is not unlike a Pavlovian dinner bell for Birders. Once they hear or read that word-usually followed by a rather humorous (to non birders) species name like “Lesser Pink-Sided Junco”- the binoculars are drawn and the game is on. This particular rare bird, the Rufus-Backed Robin, had recently been seen at a watering hole just down canyon from where we were camped. How Bill knew this I don’t know. But it was clear from his suggestion that we “might wake up early to go take a look” that this was serious business.

So a merry band of us awoke with the sun the following morning, piled in an Earlham van and headed down to the watering hole. We pulled up at the end of a wash-board road and hiked down a trail hot in pursuit of this rare bird. The Rufus-Backed Robin looks exactly like the American Robin except it has an orange (Rufus) back and a slight difference in eye coloration. This made it somewhat difficult to get excited about. Nonetheless, we anxiously hiked along looking up at every winged beast that happened by. The way it usually worked was that Bill or James would see a bird, I would scramble for my binoculars, they would simply denote its name in a casual, conversational tone-“acorn woodpecker, ruby kinglet” and I was left whizzing my binoculars to the heavens to catch nothing more than an eye full of glaring sunlight. This process would repeat every five minutes or so.

We arrived at our destination and I was a bit taken aback. The “watering hole” consisted of a cement cattle tank in the middle of a rather humble looking clearing. A lone, sad Mesquite sat in the corner near a fence. There were no birds in sight. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity until a group of birds zoomed by high above. I fumbled for my binoculars. James and Bill glanced up and said, “robins.” We sat there staring at the cement block for another five minutes until Bill finally said, “I think they must have flown to another water source.” At that, we walked back down the trail and piled back in the van. It was just barely 8:00am. I love birding.

That night, after a hearty meal, I was pretty sure that I didn’t have it in me to go back to the cement tank the next morning. But something in me said, “if you don’t go and they see this bird, you’ll be sorry.” Why I thought I would be sorry I can’t really say but it seemed logical at the time. So once again I arose before dawn, piled into the van with several other sleepy-eyed students and headed down the washboard road for our date with destiny. Today, apparently, we would try the other watering hole. As we approached cattle tank number two, something in my brain clicked and I glanced around me at the thousands of acres of land that stretched as far as the eye could see. “James,” I said, “are we looking for the species of Rufus-Backed Robins here?” James looked at me with a sad sort of smile and said, “No, were looking for the bird.” “You mean, like, ONE bird?” I replied. “Yup,” said James as he scanned the nearby trees. “So in all of the United States right now there is, like, ONE Rufus-backed Robin, and we are here trying to find that ONE bird?” “Well, there might be two” chimed in Bill from behind me. “Great,” I mumbled as I picked up my binoculars and scanned the water tank. One bird. Big country. One bird.

After fifteen minutes of sparrows, Mexican blue jay’s, blue birds, and nuthatches I was quite sure these bird people were worse off than I thought. But just then James saw something. Once again, he described what he saw is that same causal tone. “Wait. I see a Robin in the tree over there and it definitely has an orange back.” Bill spots it as well. “Yep. That’s the bird we have been looking for.” I finally fumble my way on to the bird myself. It looked just like a Robin except it has an orange back. Here I was, one of less than 1% of all birders in the U.S. ever to have seen this bird and I was staring right at it through my binoculars for a good minute while it puffed its feathers in the sun. Then, just like that, it flitted away and was gone. Bill wasted no time. We packed up and left immediately-the bird was in the bag. As we headed for the van I began to feel a strange sensation come over me. I actually felt pride-proud that I achieved something special. “Hey Bill!” I called out, “so does this make me an official Birder now?” Bill turned around and looked at me square. “No,” he emphatically replied, “it does not.”

I hopped in the van and watched the sun rise over the Santa Rita’s for the start of yet another pristine Southwestern morning. “Rufus-Backed Robin,” I whisper to myself as I stare out the window of the van as in bounces back down the dirt road. “I saw a Rufus Backed Robin today.” I looked toward Bill as he drove and happened to notice that he was smiling in the rearview mirror. “You’re still not worthy,” he laughingly replied. No, Bill, I am not. But maybe tomorrow, I’ll see if I can properly identify that Pink-sided Junco I think I have been seeing.

February 11–15, 2003

Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Sonora by Leah Green 2005

It was so alive when we got there. We had all read the chapters in Lives on the Line about the problems in Nogales, Sonora and Nogales, AZ (Ambos Nogales) about what happens when one city is divided into two countries. But we were not prepared for the life of it.

We traveled to Ambos Nogales through Borderlinks, an organization established for first hand experiential education of border issues. Our first planned interview with border patrol was denied due to the national security Orange Alert (which, needless to say was a kick in the face as a reality check of war), so we had time to take in the scene. We arrived at the Casa de Miseracordia (House of Mercy), many of us just choosing to stand on the peeling blue-painted balcony, looking out at the colonia (neighborhood). It all seemed busy and alive- scraps of cardboard, wood and metal pulled together to form squat houses that stuck out of the steep, red dirt hillside. Bright clothes hung on lines criss-crossing the rubble and old tires that kept the hillsides together. Children in all their various worlds filled up the hills playing with their own gravity- climbing up dusty ropes, speeding down on bikes, three kids to a seat. Girls running in and out of painted doorways, every color brighter for the dull red of the dirt that filled up most of the space and smoke rising upwards. Constant noise comes of clanging metal and barking dogs, advertising from moving cars in distant and rapid Spanish.

We had begun the day with Borderlinks in Tucson where we visited Southside Church and listened to John Fife, the pastor, tell us about the Sanctuary movement that was centered there 20+ years ago helping refugees from the South cross illegally into the U.S. He continued then to tell us about the migration problems as they persist today, and about Southside’s continuing role as a sanctuary for tired, thirsty, starving, and often bleeding illegal migrants, trying to cross the border by traversing across the desert. We wouldn’t fully understand the gravity of the work that he described to us until the end of the week when we got a chance to talk with the migrants themselves in the city square of Altar, Sonora where migrants gathered every morning.

The night of that first day we paid a personal visit to the border wall and to Alberto, a local artist who had just installed an incredible work of four, giant 2 dimensional human figures of angular battened metal against the wall in different ways. Their muscles were raised from the forms and painted in bright contrast to emphasize, as Alberto told us, that “Humanity is Universal”.

We ate dinner that night with Esther who started the free lunch program and still works every day making tortillas, beans, vegetables, and rice to serve hot in the kitchen of the Casa. We tasted her work, played with her newborn Chihuahua while we listened to her story. We all went to bed tired and full in the every way. The next day was also filled up completely with lives and stories of the border. We spent the morning visiting the maquiladoras (factories) of Amphenol, one of the hundreds of maquilas that have come to Nogales, Sonora, especially since NAFTA. This has attracted an entirely new population of workers to Nogales and entirely altering the life of the place. At Amphenol, we interviewed the maquila manager, and got a look at the ground floor factory jobs of young Mexican workers filed into rows, assembling pieces of electronic components for a fraction of the pay that a worker would receive in the U.S.

We ate lunch with Flor, a woman whose family recently arrived in Nogales from the South to find jobs in the maquilas. Later we talked with Joanna, one of 2 or 3 local maquila labor organizers who work to educate workers about their rights. That night we did our first home stays in Colonia Las Torres, complete with lively children, food, 3-legged cats and salsa parties.

We continued at this rate of intake of the stories and struggles in Nogales for the next two days, staying in homes, and talking with Michael Alcala, an environmentalist who is concerned with the real and dirty work of helping Nogales (one of the toughest and most honest battles I have ever seen). We followed in the footsteps of the Nogales punk revolutionists in a protest against the war in Iraq, a small and well orchestrated protest. We shouted “No queremos la Guerra!” along with them, counting off and running through the streets of Nogales.

We spent our last full day in Altar, a country town that has become the Mecca for many southern immigrants seeking travel to Nogales for work or illegal entry into the U.S. to find work. We did home stays with families there and spent the next morning in the town square talking to migrants, most of whom were about to risk their lives in the journey across the desert by foot, in search of the jobs that they needed to feed and house their families.

We had a wrap-up discussion that night as the sun set behind the mountains that surrounded the Casa de Miseracordia. I think most of use felt our emotions were still very much un-wrapped. The next morning we packed up and drove off again in the slanted morning sunlight of the van, reading the local paper write up in Spanish about the worldwide protest on Iraq. We drove back the way we came in through the stores and streets of Nogales and turned south towards Bahia de Kino.

February 19-25, 2003

Desemboque and the Seri by Ani Hanelius 2005

In the second half of February our group was able to experience a cultural stay with the Seri Indians, an indigenous people of the northern coasts of the Sea of Cortez and Tiburon Island, learning about their culture and current practices of ecological conservation. Having been told before we left, that we were about to enter the lives of a dying people, whose history, culture, language and way of life is in danger of being destroyed our own experiences with the Seri showed us something vastly different. While our time with the Seri included a very rare and distinctive glimpse into the culture and people threatened by extinction, it was also one that pushed each of us in ways that we never imagined.

Our adventure began when we left the pristine post-card-like beaches of Kino Bay and traveled north along jarring dirt roads heading towards a completely foreign destination and culture. Our experience soon took an unexpected turn, when on the very same day that we left Kino, we decided to leave our trailer on the side of the road so that we could go to a more remote location to study the local lizard population and returned a few hours later to find three of the four trailer wheels slashed, the battery stolen and all the locks damaged. Although (besides the tires) the trailer had held strong, the act of vandalism set a tangible air of fear, dis-ease, and a sense of vulnerability for all of us in the group. After a long evening of cooking dinner in the dark on the dusty roadside and trying find comfort in the security of our own company and some spiced hot cocoa, we were finally loaned a few mismatched tires from the cars of generous Seri, and with them limped the last remaining miles into the village. There, although it was well past ten, we were met and welcomed by the rhythmic drumming of traditional music sung by two of the Seri elders and the dancing of the Seri youth, lit by the light of a fire. Throughout our time in Desemboque, we consciously fought our own feelings of dis-ease, created by our jarring first night, and tried to make our selves comfortable among the Seri.

During the week, we were divided into three research groups, each working with Seri students, para-ecologists and elders, all who are working together to find a way to sustain the Seri culture and way of life. Through studying their forms of Cultural-ecology, we learned their methods of conservation and protection of their natural resources that are in rapid decline. When not on the land or at sea, hearing the stories and legends of the elders, we also were active observers of life in the small village of Desemboque, home to around 350 of the total remaining 700 Seri Indians. Every day we experienced their tourist-driven cash economy first hand, as we were swarmed by women trying to sell us beautiful shell necklaces and vibrant ironwood carvings of sea turtles and other wildlife, so important to Seri life and culture. When not dealing with Seri vendors, or studying the ecology and conservation practices, afternoons and evenings were filled with playing hackysack with the local children, walks along the beautiful beaches, feasts of fresh crab caught right from the sea, and watching the impressive traditional dancing performed by Seri people of all ages.

One morning I worked with the group in charge of mapping the historical sites of Seri encampments around the Sargento Estuary, Katy and I accompanied two Seri students about our age to the house of one of the student’s grandmother, where she was to share with us her life stories and family history. For the next few hours, we sat beside a simple shack watching an old blind woman dressed in the most vibrant colors imaginable sitting in the red dust, molding clay pots, as she told her granddaughter the life stories and history of her ancestors in a language totally foreign and unrecognizable to our ears. As I sat, I soaked up everything around me, all my senses awash in the richness and vibrance of their culture, language, and history. From the pile of limberbush branches in the corner that in the near future will be made into massive traditional baskets, to the bottle caps nailing the siding to the exterior of the shack, to the woman’s expert hands dyed red by clay known only through touch, to the hot sun that beat upon our backs, and the language that sang in our ears, everything wove together to make this meeting of generations and cultures totally rich and unique.

Through our experience we learned much from the Seri. Besides the more tangible ecological knowledge, we were given the opportunity to share in the knowledge of ancient times and were part of its passing through ancient knowledge of plants and family histories, from the generations of yesterday to the youth who will carry this vibrant culture into the future. Contrary to what we were told before arriving in Desemboque, in the Seri we found a culture that is very much alive and finding ways within themselves to sustain their culture and way of life, and met many remarkable people dedicated to its preservation and survival in a world that does not encourage its existence.

February 27 - March 4, 2003

Sea Kayaking in the Sea of Cortez by Devin Elgert 2005

February 27, 2003

Today is the day we all officially meet our three leaders, Tom, Thor, and Melissa, who hail from the practically crionic state of Maine. After switching gear and mindsets to prepare for the backcountry – not just any backcountry, Isla Tiburon, a sacred site to the Seri people, we get to experiment with sea-kayaking; for some of us this is the first time in our lives. The water is calm, scintillating, and warm – perfect for rolling, dipping and having fun in. We eat our final hearty meal at Prescott College station in Kino Bay, Mexico accompanied with a delicious dessert and prepare ourselves for meager but meaningful N.O.L.S. rations.

February 28, 2003

We head off towards Punta Chueca in Seri country. While attempting to find a spot to launch our kayaks and our kayaking experience we are confronted by countless Seri, hoping to make a peso or two off us. No luck for them. After being instructed the very basics – stopping, steering, shifting our weight, using the paddles, pedals, skegs and/or rudders, we paddle off to a windy beach on the mainland side where we are presented the option of crossing over to Isla Tiburon right then and there and camping on the island, or staying on the mainland side and crossing at an ulterior moment. After much vacillation, we opt the former, and three of us, coincidentally enough, the three student leaders, Devin, Beirne and Jon all take a plunge in the less than placid waters of the Infernillo Channel.

March 1, 2003

We wake up on this chilly but charming Saturday morning and greet the month of March with some much appreciated stretches – both physical and mental. We put in to the much gentler water and paddle over to a point farther North along Isla Tiburon, stopping several times to eat, relax and appreciate the fauna (specifically the osprey, the loon, the pelican, and the sting ray) that cross our path. Amongst boats we engage in a water pumping skirmish, with some of putting incredible distance in our effort to get others feeling wet and rejuvenating. We camp along a sandy beach with spectacular views of the surrounding mountains and sea, enjoying every bite of our small supper and the company of each other as we bond and build new relationships with each other.

March 2, 2003

Prior to taking off, the main Maine leader, Tom, edifies us about the tides and other oceanography terms. Afterwards we head Northward still to another beautiful spot along Tiburon where some of us have the option of improving their kayaking skills; others have the opportunity to read, relax, or repose as the temperature cools down and so does our energy level. We have a leader-feedback session accompanied with delicious Dutch-oven/twig fire baked banana bread. Another baking sessions provides delectable tortillas for a more bountiful supper. At night, we gather around for stories and mental reflections for which come to many of us a complete novelty, even if some of us have heard them before.

March 3, 2003

Today is 03/03/03! The weather turns glum and many of us do as well. We split up – six of us paddling over to Punta Perla at the top of the island; the rest of us read and recover from our sicknesses. In the afternoon we bake gingerbread and blueberry bread; it proves to be a delicacy in the following meals. After a metamorphically eye-opening discussion over Nabhan we are entreated to a literally eye-opening (and closing) activity just before we go to bed early and prepare for a rigorous Tuesday.

March 4, 2003

Mardi Gras, literally meaning “Fat Tuesday” is today, and fat, that is, in the sense of having a lot to cover, is just what this day affords us. We arise well before dawn and leave in much appreciated calm and current-free waters. After four or so hours of intense paddle, we reach yet another beautiful beach to camp, not before being graced with an excellent discussion on AIDS, HIV and STDs in general at lunchtime. The final night we have a much warmer and welcoming group check-in, which sets new goals for us to achieve after a much-awaited spring break arrives.

March 17 - April 5, 2003

San Pedro Unit Daily Account by Devin Elgert 2005

March 17, 2003

We come back from spring break, all of us except our beloved group member Al, who remains sick in New Mexico, to the Roadrunner Youth Hostel in Tucson. Ron Parker, professor of geosciences, has come to spend a week with us teaching us about the geology of the San Pedro river corridor. We leave early in the morning and head east on I-10 towards Benson, where Ron shows and explains to us the first of many geological formations. At lunch we exchange spring break stories and Matt and Beirne introduce us to our newest mascot: a hideous and scary-looking plaster clown figurine named Zippy that they bought over spring break in Gila Bend, AZ. Ron gives us his first lecture and our assignment for the week. We look at some more geology in the nearby regions in perhaps the coldest and most inclement weather we’ve had all semester – snow, freezing rain, and sleet all blanket us. Later, we meet Jim Mahoney, a BLM employee, who tells us about the San Pedro Riparian National Conservation Area, which we come to know as SPRNCA; he wins our interest, and our respect, when we gives us a place to stay (as opposed to camping out in the cold) for the week – a beat-up ranch house in Boquilas.

March 18, 2003

We wake up and meet Jack Whetstone, another BLM employee, and, as described by Jim, an original hippie. Jack tells us more about SPRNCA then takes us on a short hike, which Ron uses as a chance to tell us more about the geological formations present. After lunch Ron gives lectures on hydrology, then we head to the actual river for the first time and put the hydrology terms – conductivity, thalweg, acidity, etc. to work. The soup for supper proves to be superb, and our post-prandial activity of watching the John Wayne classic, Red River, is accompanied with excellent cinnamon rolls, complements of Kristin.

March 19, 2003

The leaders leave us with Ron, and he takes us to an E.P.A. site, then once again to the San Pedro, where we work with local environmentalists using GPS units, conducting water tests, and learning more about the riparian zone. After a luxurious lunch of bean salad, complements of Ani, we get stuck in a ditch, and play around along a railroad. When we return, we learn that the much anticipated and feared war that many of us protested and all of us were concerned about has become a reality. We eat dinner, an outstanding Kenyan dish provided by Kristin, in silence and sadness. However, such somberness lasts only a short time as we watch Tombstone, another Western about Wyatt Earp and go to bed.

March 20, 2003

Today the weather is at its best and so our most of our moods. We drive south to Tombstone, AZ, the very site of where the movie we watched the night before was filmed, to break our fast and take many a photo of us imitating cowboys, posses, and outlaws. We then head to Bisbee, a hippie haunt as well as a mining town, where all of us save Natalie take a tour gear and all through an original copper mine. We eat lunch at a respectable restaurant, then head south to the border once again, this time to Canea, Mexico, to learn about San Pedro river conservation efforts on the other side. The man there tells us a great deal in almost fluent English, and afterwards, a photographer for the local newspaper takes our photo and interviews us. We successfully and safely re-enter the US, and head back to Bisbee for another delectable meal at a pizza parlor. We rent a movie and head back to the ranch.

March 21, 2003

We take a trip to an archaeological excavation site, then to the headquarters of SPRNCA, where we bid farewell to Jim, who gives us all provocative pseudonyms to chew on. We take one last nature walk and head back to the ranch, where the leaders cook us supper and we write our papers. Devin reads us a poem to celebrate the vernal equinox and Natalie (accidentally) knocks over Zippy in the bathroom. Al returns while we’re watching our final movie and shrieks at the site of a decapitated clown figurine (she understandably hates clowns). We’re a group once again.

March 22, 2003

We head to Karchner Caverns State Park and say goodbye to Ron, who leaves early in the morning to go back to cold Indiana to rejoin his pregnant wife (whose 43rd birthday is today), and four children. We then head to Tucson where the rest of the day is spent gathering ideas and information about independent study projects and/or working on our ethnographies, due Sunday. At night we have a reflective and celebratory dinner accompanied with a rare activity of ‘moonshine.’

March 23, 2003

Our ethnographies about the Seri are due today, which consumes most of our time. Devin stays behind and hikes at the state park; the rest of us return at varying times. It is a most fruitful day.

March 24, 2003

Al does Zippy completely in by hanging him in a tree receiving afterwards much of Matt’s wrath. Jay gives us a lecture on conservation ecology/biology which provides a segway into our next unit: looking at conservation efforts by the Nature Conservancy. After shopping and a quick lunch, we head north to Dudleyville to the Nature Conservancy’s property, which is perhaps the greenest and most pristine land we’ve encountered all semester. There we meet Doug, a native Arkansan who gives us the lowdown on the Nature Conservancy’s work. After an unusual but delicious pancake supper, we meet Eric Schwenneson, an independent (in every sense of the word) rancher who proves to be one of the most Socratic, intellectually prying, challenging, and thought provoking person we meet all semester. Eric strikes dead whatever (mis)conception and preconceived notion we thought we knew about ranching, ranchers, sustainability, overgrazing, and land use issues. Many of us talk extensively afterwards about the issues he brought up.

March 25, 2003

We help out Eric and his partner Jean by doing a service project in the town of Cascabel, two hours south of where we’re staying. This service project involves laying down hay for their cows. Jean teaches us a great deal about cows and straw bale construction, providing some of us an independent study resource. Matt half impresses and half disgusts us by eating a grub just before lunch; Jay later awards him five dollars at supper. After a lunch of Mexican grub (that is, real food) that Jean cooks, another Nature Conservancy representative tells us about issues and tensions between locals and the organization. We head back to the Nature Conservancy tired and satisfied; for many of us, this hay day is the very heyday of our Southwest experience.

March 26, 2003

Today is a day off – some of us go for a day hike in the Superstition Mountains just east of Phoenix; some run errands; and the rest of us just relax and rejuvenate. Ani makes her bean salad; the cooking crew prepares enchiladas in the Dutch ovens and we have a pot-luck with the Schwennesons at their home in nearby (relatively speaking) Winkleman. Most of us are content to just talk with Jean, who shows us her beautiful straw bale house and tells us about some principles of solar heating. Watching Eric, clad in boots, ripped jeans, flannel shirts and a cowboy hat, carry in his rifle on his shoulder with the sizzling southwest sunset in the background and his dog scampering around in the dusty foreground provides perhaps the most quintessentially western imagery of the entire semester.

March 27, 2003

Another service learning day – this time with Doug, and his co-employee Erica, at the Nature Conservancy’s land. We take secateurs, saws, shears and clear a path around the perimeter; some of us help Jean and Eric build a corral just before lunch. Afterwards Doug and Erica take us on a nature drive and walk up to the northern boundary, the Gila River. Ellen, desperate to accumulate more counties, fords it, clothes and all, and the rest of us play a mean game of van (truck) tag. Today is also the first day we spot a rattler, a devilish diamondback writhing on the road; almost of all of us descend the trucks just to get a good look at it. After an exquisite Italian dinner of spaghetti with Doug, Eric, Erica, and Jean, we have a celebratory bead ceremony (orange is the color) and then we play a prolonged game of silent football, after which Ani and Jay are awarded the task of washing the vans.

March 28, 2003

We get up early and help Eric and Jean finish building their corral. We then do some grocery shopping and leave for the Biosphere 2 (Biosphere One is this planet) where we have independent study research time, a falafel dinner (complements of Kristin and Ani) and two hours of intense lectures. Nonetheless, the leaders treat us to ice cream afterwards and we joyfully eat away a long but productive day.

March 29, 2003

Today is the final day before our independent study research proposals are due; this day is devoted to exactly that. The vans visit the repair shop and Antioch University pays a visit to us. Some of us watch the NCAA tournament.

March 30, 2003

We hand in our independent study proposals then meet with Tony Burgess, a biologist who helped envision and design the Biosphere where we are currently staying. Tony’s talk proves to be weighty, philosophical, and engaging; it is a memorable semester highlight for many of us, including Jay, who picks up the phrase – “beware the biospheric number.” After lunch, Tony gives us an actual tour of the biosphere which is as eerie and bewildering as it looked and sounded. For a place to stay we visit the residence of Southwest alumna (’99) Sarah Gellman’s father, Larry Gellman. It is an extravagant house located atop a hill that looksd own on (in more ways than one) the entire city of Tucson. We relax in his pool and hot tub, eat omelettes for supper, watch a movie on his (big) big-screen TV, then crash.

March 31, 2003

Ahh, the vicissitudes of Southwest! One day, water issues, the next, relaxation in a hot tub, the next, an experiment in simple living. We say goodbye to Larry and luxury at large, as all of us except for Al, who goes back to Chicago to recover from her illness, head to Saguaro Juniper – a quiet and quaint Quaker owned cooperative land trust. There we meet Daniel, Dave, and Pearl who show us around the beautiful land, explaining how the solar-powered shower, the wind-powered water pump, and the composting toilet all function. Here is simplicity at its best. Jay teaches us a song that he learned at camp, “We’re Here because We’re Here” which quickly becomes engrained in our brains and would serve further additional use later on in the program.

April 1, 2003

Today is April Fool’s Day – no joke, which Devin uses as a chance to observe National Day of Silence and communicates with us using his graphing calculator. The rest of us embark on a project with two elderly S.J. members studying and analyzing saguaros on a nearby hill. Today is one of the hottest days on Southwest and many of us write our second environmental issues paper in the shade. Heat is an issue for Ellen, who burns her mouth trying to cool off a marshmallow during our first marshmallow toast.

April 2, 2003

We eat a simple but superb mesquite flour pancake breakfast cooked for us by Dave and Pearl, who then tells us the theoretical and applied principles to living a simple but satisfying life. We then do another service learning project, helping clear the mesquite bosque and building a shield for the solar shower. Student check-ins occur and so does the first ever student-only discussion during the PM hours.

April 3, 2003

Today is solo day. We take a hike through a wash, then pack up food for our solo experience. Ellen reads us a book entitled, The Other Way to Listen, which proves to be a very fitting preparation for the upcoming solo. The leaders distribute our letters we wrote to ourselves back on January 8th, and we head off to begin our solo time.

April 4, 2003

Solo takes up this entire day. Many of the idiosyncratic occurrences that we would talk about tomorrow happen today.

April 5, 2003

Solo ends around noon. After a hardy but silent lunch we reflect on our solo time, many of us sharing our moments of profound realizations, and some of us sharing other memories, visual or non-visual, with the group. Cows, gila monsters (in Beirne’s case), and (too much) sun (in Ani’s case) were common factors. Ani and Andrew start their leadership expedition this afternoon; the rest of us prepare a potluck supper consisting almost entirely of locally grown foods. Fifty plus people, mostly elderly, gather at the dining hall.

April 5, 2003

Exploring the San Pedro by Jay Roberts

What a month it has been! After returning from Spring Break, the group spent one week with Earlham Geologist, Ron Parker studying the hydrology, sediments, and bedrock of the basin and range near Sierra Vista, Arizona. Through the help of the BLM, we studied the Upper San Pedro river system including doing some water quality testing, playing with GIS (geographic information systems), and even going into Mexico to visit a copper mine (third largest in the world) and talk with park managers south of the border. It was an intense week learning about the San Pedro-one of the "last great places" according to the Nature Conservancy.

We said goodbye to Ron and headed north to continue our study of the San Pedro river- this time staying on Nature Conservancy property on the lower San Pedro near Winkleman, AZ. During our week at the TNC, we did several service projects and met with a ranching family-Eric and Jean Schwenesen-who do sustainable ranching near the river. The two of them shared with us their vision for ranching in the future in the Southwest and inspired us all to take a critical look at whether ranching is inherently degradative or not. We also helped them build a corral on the property which was quite a lesson in how hard ranchers work on a daily basis. Our week finished up with an unforgettable behind-the-scenes tour of the Biosphere 2 with our guide Tony Burgess- the principle ecologist in charge of the Biosphere back when it began in the 1990's. As we toured the "rainforest basement" and looked at the artificial sea, the theme of "human managed ecosystems" and the folly of attempting to systematize nature was clear. We all left wondering how we can hope to manage our increasingly fragmented habitats in such a complex and interrelated system.

Our last week focusing on the San Pedro took place in Saguaro Juniper-a unique land cooperative in between the upper and lower San Pedro. There, we learned about simple living from two Quakers- Dave and Pearl and saw the true expression of living sustainably off the land. The entire Saguaro Juniper and Cascabel community impressed us with their attempts to consume locally and sustainably-what a welcome change to see how to actually practice much of what we have learned this semester! Also during our time at SJ, we experienced our 48 hour solo- a time of individual reflection alone in the desert. Each of us had a small "wash" to ourselves and enough food and minimal shelter to keep us relatively comfortable. That time of intimate knowledge with a specific place will remain with many of us-we finally had a chance to "sit" with the desert we had been traveling through for so long!

After Saguaro Juniper, we wrapped up our three week unit on the environmental issues of the San Pedro river. I think all of us were awed by the complexity of the issues we learned about. But, we were also inspired by the people we met and the passionate activism we saw from all stakeholders. The San Pedro is a flashpoint for many of the environmental problems of the west. It is clear that many significant hurdles remain toward achieving some semblance of sustainability, habitat protection, AND valuing cultural traditions. But we saw glimmers of hope and promise both in theory and in practice. May the San Pedro always run free...

April 6 – April 12, 2003

Climbing in Joshua Tree by Devin Elgert 2005

April 6, 2003

We leave Saguaro Juniper early in the morning, saying goodbye to Dave and Pearl, shop, and head for Pichacho Peak State Park, the scene of the westernmost battle of the civil war. Ani and Andrew give us a prep-talk for the upcoming week at Joshua Tree, and we conclude the cultural issues aspect of the semester with a final discussion.

April 7, 2003

Beirne wakes us up very early and we set off for California, stopping for breakfast at the very gas station where Matt and Beirne purchased Zippy (thankfully, no one else buys a clown figurine as a replacement). We arrive mid-afternoon at Joshua Tree National Park, and Andrew and Ani (the ‘A’ squad) give us the basics on how to put on a harness, tie protective knots, and belay. After a delicious calzone dinner made by Ani, Devin, and Kristin, we have our second student-only discussion.

April 8, 2003

Today is the first official day of climbing! Andrew meets with Marcus, our guide, who sets up climbing stations early in the morning. The rest of the day is very uplifting (pun intended!) as we learn the techniques of climbing and repelling. At night we plan a moonlight hike, only to find that the place we wanted to go to is closed, and instead a few of us hike around the area where we’re encamped.

April 9, 2003

We meet with a park ranger named Patricia to learn about the basic flora and fauna of the Mojave desert; it is very hot and few of us are able to pay ample attention. Lunch provides the opportunity for a leader feedback session, then afterwards we grocery shop, play around on the rocks, and prepare for the final environmental issues discussion. This discussion carries well into the evening and is concluded with ice cream and a most germane poem about S.U.V.s performed by Devin (written by Devin’s teacher).

April 10, 2003

This time Ani and Marcus set up the climbing stations, at a more remote part of the park. Each of us ascends with joy and sweat from perhaps the hottest day on Southwest. We say goodbye to and thank Marcus and his partner Sarah. After a dinner of burgers and faux burgers Ani prepares us for the upcoming student-only backpacking trip, an eight-mile trek through Joshua Tree National Park. Kristin makes us apple fritters using the Dutch ovens, and quite a few of us engage in a fierce game of spoons. Late at night, Kristin’s sister Lauren arrives, and sees all that we’ve become in the three months since she saw us last.

April 11, 2003

Today is the first day of backpacking, which Andrew assumes leadership for. It proves to be a blast for most of us, just to be alone, together without the leaders, and out in the middle of the Mojave. Some of us take a hike, others take the time to reflect, and all of us catch up on gossip about non-SWFS Earlham students. It is quite something, to see how close and family like each of has become around each other. After a bean and rice supper, Ani demonstrates eurhythmy, a unique form of performing arts known primarily to the Waldorf world. Ani and Kristin, the two Waldorf students share much of their childhoods, histories, and experiences growing up and going to Waldorf schools.

April 12, 2003

We pack up early and hike the six miles in virtually no time, many of us taking lunchtime to sunbathe, play cards, hike or do some bouldering. The leaders then pick us up around 4; we then head to an overcrowded campground in another part of Joshua Tree where we conduct our final leader evaluation for Andrew and Ani. We experience what we hope would be the last truly cool night with temperatures in the 30s and the wind blowing fiercely.

April 13 – April 25, 2003

Independent Study Time by Devin Elgert 2005

April 13, 2003

We arise early and make the long drive back all the way towards Tucson, this time driving through the lovely suburbanized and sprawling city of Phoenix. We stop to camp at Catalina State Park, an easy and quick drive to Tucson. Jay gives us a preparation for finals, which conveniently occur right when our taxes are due – April 15th.

April 14, 2003

All of today is spent studying for finals. Enough said.

April 15, 2003

A thunderstorm passes over and wakes us up at 5 in the morning – talk about a rude awakening. At 8 finals begin, first cultural, the environmental after lunch. We survive and live to tell about them. The celebratory dinner is at a delightful Guatemalan restaurant called “The Quetzal” (after the bird), and desert is accompanied with the movie Animal House, the 1978 John Belushi classic. Late at night, Liz leaves for the Navajo Nation she’s planned to do her research on and independent study time officially begins.

April 16, 2003

Ellen, Leah, and Al all take off on their respective itineraries; the rest of us hang around Tucson, gathering information and research while we may. Dinner is pizza; the movie is American Beauty.

April 17, 2003

Day two of independent study time’s highlight is the introduction of a group mascot we all come to like and appreciate – an electronic, dancing hamster that sings “Low Rider” bought by Jay and Marice at Walgreens. We name him Raul. The movie is Desperado.

April 18, 2003

Our much loved group member Ani Hanelius turns 20 today. We shower her with gifts and affection and Kristin bakes her two cakes (one of which uses only three ingredients). We celebrate the night away drinking, laughing, and watching the movies Ten Things I Hate About You and My Big Fat Greek Wedding, the latter of which we finish on Monday night.

April 19, 2003

Ellen takes over leadership duties; Jay and Marcie hike to Patagonia State Park. Many of us get sick; many more get busy. The movie is Good Will Hunting.

April 20, 2003

Today is Easter (and, coincidentally 4/20), for which a few of us (Ani, Ellen, Matt) attend a church service. The rest of us just spend the time doing independent study. No movie tonight.

April 21, 2003

We all have a case of the Mondays: more sick people, more work, more mundane moments.

April 22, 2003

Earth Day today. We all begin to put the finishing touches on our independent study projects and enjoy urban life while we can.

April 23, 2003

Everyone (even Leah) who was out is now officially back; and we’re all typing up our papers and preparing for our presentations. The movie is already seen Office Space.

April 24, 2003

And now…the presentations. Seven of us go today, eight of us go tomorrow. Today we present at the Meetinghouse we stayed at in February; Paul opens it up and asks us if we’d be willing to do a little weeding – most of decline. Sustainability is the big theme as Kristin tells about her experiences with sustainable architecture, specifically helping build a straw bale house. Katy continues with sustainable communities. Devin returns to sustainable architecture, covering many more methods. Al talks about sustainable ranching practices and policies. Beirne deviates from the sustainable path to talk about her research on A.I.D.S. Matt talks about immigration issues and his time with humane borders. Leah ends the day with an additional talk about sustainable ranching. Devin invites everyone to his birthday party.

April 25, 2003

Today is Devin’s 20th birthday – in the custom of J.R. Tolkein’s The Hobbit, where hobbits give presents to others on their birthdays, he prepares tofu focaccia for lunch and then becomes quite sick. The other eight group members give their presentations at the N.O.L.S. station east of Tucson. Liz starts us off with her presentation about Navajo issues. The leaders interrupt with Ellen and Leah presenting their book on the Seri; Jay gives his talk about experiential education. Ani continues with her research on bilingual education. Natalie talks about more border issues and the Tohono O’Odham Nation. Andrew discusses national park fees and fines. Jon finishes off with his presentation on the Willow Flycatcher. We drive back to the Roadrunner Hostel, have a bead ceremony, freshen up and Devin (complements of his parents) treats us to dinner at Oasis Restaurant. The dinner proves to be lavish in every way – live entertainment, bellydancing, drumming, music, and smiles (even from Devin) highlight the night. Devin and Ani agree that Southwest was perhaps the best way to end their teenage years – a true rite de passage.

April 26 - May 3, 2003

Grand Canyon and Home by Devin Elgert 2005

April 26, 2003

We say goodbye to the Roadrunner Hostel in Tucson and head north towards Flagstaff, Ani’s van stopping at the Biosphere Two to pick up her much missed CDs. We eat a quick lunch near Phoenix, then camp in Flagstaff where Katy, Leah, and Liz assume leadership and prepare us for what’s coming up. Since 15 people cannot go as one group, Liz and Leah (the ‘L’ group) lead with Jay and Marice, accompanied by Al, Beirne, Devin, Matt and Natalie. Katy (the ‘K’ group) takes Andrew, Ani, Ellen, Jon, and Kristin.

April 27, 2003

Today is the day we go to the grandest of all canyons, the Grand Canyon. To some (most) this National Park represents a work of majesty – the product of millions of years of erosion and fluvial geomorphology – to others, it is basically a big 277 mile hole in the ground. We have our usual logistics, pack up, and supper before the big hike.

April 28, 2003

We split up – not without customary a Earlham circle-up and hugging session – and leave for the Grand Canyon, the L group going to the west to tackle one trail, the K group to the east to assay another. Both trails prove to be extremely difficult; some of us suffer from knee problems, and all of us have aches and pains after a day of intense hiking.

April 29, 2003

Both groups reach the Colorado River today, and both decide it would be wisest to return on the trail that they came down on; the Grand Canyon is much harder than any of the laders expected. In the L group, Jay catches a fish flyfishing, which proves to be highlight. The lowlight comes when we have to bury a no bake cheesecake for fear of getting sick. Each of us is now forced to drink purified Colorado River water, which smells and tastes little better than formaldehyde! Both groups have feedback sessions as well.

April 30, 2003

Today is a much appreciated and needed lay-over day. Liz and Devin in the L group take a short day hike and joke that they would go warn the other group to tell them to go back the way they came. No need, the other group had exactly the same plans thankfully.

May 1, 2003

Rabbits, rabbits, rabbits! Today is the first day of May, and what a day it is. Getting down was one challenge, equally challenging is now getting up and out. The heat and sheer steepness of the terrain take their toll on each of us, but the L group members make it back to where they camped Monday night in excellent time. Liz tells her story about hiking the Pacific Crest trail, which impresses and intrigues all of us. After dinner, Leah gives a poetry reading session and we enjoy what few stars we see in the clouded over sky.

May 2, 2003

Today is the final day for the L group, which climbs out of the Canyon shortly after lunch. The K group remains in the canyon for another day. The L group, after finding out that the K group decided to return the way they came decided to be as “schmoe” as possible and has an opulent Italian supper on a ledge that looks out on the Grand Canyon.

May 3, 2003

We are reunited once again. The K group returns with open arms (and wounds) from their trail; they recognize that the L group has had the opportunity to shower and have great dinners; they become slightly and understandably jealous. The temperature cools down significantly and a hailstorm pummels our campground for a good half hour. The K goup gives the L group short dictums and poems to read at dinner. The L group makes the K group dinner (to make up for the previous night) and does the dishes, not before we have our final bead ceremony and feedback session for an outdoor expedition crew. Al takes up the reigns of leadership for the drive back and a slight dusting of snow causes many of us to sleep in tents, vans, or the trailer.

May 4, 2003

The first day of driving back is indeed a fun one. We drive Northeast up to Moab, UT, saying goodbye to the 277 mile hole in the ground, the Grand Canyon, and hello to Monument Valley, warmer weather, and Arches. We spend our final nights in the Southwest US in Arches National Park, just north of Moab. Al teaches some basic dancing techniques; most of us fail miserably but some of us pick up quickly; all of us laugh and enjoy ourselves.

May 5, 2003

Cinco de Mayo, a day of celebration and feast in Mexico is the same for us today in the US. After a day of day hikes through Arches N.P., we have our celebratory supper and honor the Southwest tradition of having a napkin award ceremony presented to each group member (leaders as well) for their character, idiosyncracies and quirks that make us the great people that we are. Just before bed, Jay distributes out leader and program evaluation forms.

May 6, 2003

We have our final circle up in the Southwest, concluded with Jay’s remark, “let’s go home. And so we do just that. We quiz each other in each van to see how well we know each other; both vans tie. We experience more breathtaking scenery crossing the snow-covered Rockies in Colorado and camp at a K.O.A. campground in the Eastern portion of that very state. Liz is forced to practically drive by her house! We have our first reflective session in a cafeteria – most of have much stress and anguish about Southwest ending and having to clean up before seeing friends and family. All of us are sad that Southwest will over soon.

May 7, 2003

We wake up very early, drive through the rest of Colorado, cross Kansas in excellent time, even with Al’s feedback session, and camp in a beautiful spot by the Missouri river in that very state. Most of us are so astounded by how green, full life and moisture this place is – nothing like this in the Southwest exists. We have our final supper of cous cous and burritos, and then Marcie introduces our final group bonding session. She gives us paper plates with strings attached and asks each of us to write his/her name on the plate, as well as one of his/her strengths. The plate was then placed behind his/her back. Sequentially, each person would use a marker or pen to write something, a compliment or something else meaningful, on each of the other 14 members’ plates. When this was done, each group member had fifteen statements about her/himself to reflect and treasure for as long s/he kept the plate. We then gave our final thoughts on the program and morosely went to bed for a few hours.

May 8, 2003

Devin wakes us up earlier than ever (5:15) this morning, and within an hour we have circled up and are taking off, covering the last 475 miles back to Earlham. We arrive at precisely 4 PM singing the “We’re Here Because We’re Here” tune Jay taught us over a month ago. We hardly unpack for ten minutes and no sooner our friends, romantic partners, and missed ones rush up to hug, embrace, and rejoice with us. We’re back! We’ve just had the semester of our lives! And yet we can hardly explain anything; words simply don’t do justice. We just keep unpacking and unloading, and enjoy pizza at Wilderness House. We’re on our own at night for the first time in almost two months.

May 9, 2003

Today is the last day together for months to come. We eat breakfast at 7:30 in the Wilderness and clean out the gear, books and everything. We eat lunch together, and just before 1 PM have our last circle up ever. Thus endeth the field studies of the Southwest. For each of us, this semester was undoubtedly the best. The fifteen participants, Alisa Damholt, Andrew Fine, Ani Hanelius, Beirne Roose-Snyder, Devin Elgert, Elizabeth Johnston, Ellen Maynard, Jay Roberts, Jon Wagner, Katy Nicholson, Kristin Mork, Leah Green, Matt Lindeman, Marcie Dove Roberts, and Natalie George are done.

Contact Us:

Wilderness Programs
801 National Road West, Drawer 87
Richmond, IN 47374
phone:(765) 983-1327; fax: (765) 983-1207
Wilderness@earlham.edu