January 17-19 Winter Overnight Clove Road

Saturday began cold. The snow was light and deep. There seemed to be a mountain of gear.

When all had arrived, we formed ourselves into two facing lines. On one side were 13 boys. On the other were 13 mentors, uncles and fathers. Some of these men had traveled from out of state to be present. A line was drawn in the snow before the boys. Because of the demands of winter, we asked the boys if they would be willing to make a commitment to leaving their old habits behind and adopt a new way of being. Stepping over the line was the sign of this commitment. In unison the boys stepped forward. Now we could begin

The oldest of the boys were requested to stand aside. There was a deeper commitment awaiting them–an unknown future. They were asked by Tama if they would be willing to risk more of themselves this weekend; if they would be willing to place the needs of the group before their own needs. Charles reminded them that concurrently the well being and success of the group depended on each assessing and clearly expressing their own individual needs. Two seemingly opposing ideas. They were invited to hold these two invitations, this paradox, as they journeyed together into the coming nights. All were willing. They shouldered their packs and crossed the meadow towards the bridge.

The larger group formed a circle. Will Sloane agreed to lead us in gratitude. Talli helped guide him in the process. This circle was the first of many circles. Here we introduced principles and practices for being safe and comfortable in the cold. We also introduced an awareness trigger: lemons. It comes from the three lemons of a slot machine–not good. Recognizing that ‘trouble’ is rarely a single event occurrence, but is usually a culmination of several small consequences, such as cold feet, inappropriate foods, inadequate clothing, and dependence on fire for warmth. A bigger lemon might be leaving camp without telling anyone where you are going or breaking through the ice and getting water in you boots. This gave us a language of and context for evaluation: “Does anyone have a lemon?” This gave us a tool to monitor and track our well being before ‘trouble’ was allowed to take hold. With this understanding we could now move out onto the land.

Thankfully and thoughtfully one parent dropped off some plastic sleds for moving provisions. Moving slowly (perspiration is a lemon) we arrived at our camp.

We gathered in the lodge and a hand drill produced a coal. We lit our first fire. We had shelter, fire, food and water, a commitment to principles and practices, a language of assessment, and the active support of each other. We were ready to begin.

Our first adventure was to divide into small groups and enjoy the mysteries of tracking in the snow. Four groups ventured out and one group of men stayed back to prepare our evening meal. (We needed to eat early before the light was gone.) Each group followed their own chosen mystery, with the understanding that they would be asked to tell the stories of their experiences in the lodge that night. We understand that the slow steady movement of tracking maintains body temperature. The snow holds immense information about the identity and movement of animals: tracks, gaits, behavior, territory, food, etc. Trailing adds greatly to our mental map (spatial imaging) of the land. Story telling supports the retention, assessment and organization of information, self confidence, a sense of shared experience (group unity), and is the basis of creating culture together. It is a powerful and gentle teaching tool.

By the time the light began to weaken, we heard our ‘crow call’. It was time to return, but it was difficult to turn away from the amazing stories written across the land: fisher, fox, owl, and vole. It was a wealth of naturalist information that we could have mined for days. Back at camp the fires were burning bright (we had a separate, outside fire for cooking) and the food was hot. As we waited for our meal we heard singing and saw another fire in the distance. The other camp was singing ‘yoi-oh-way-ha’. When they finished we sang back across the darkening field. Before our meal we gathered in a circle around the fire and gave thanks for creation. Then we ate and ate and ate. The stews, meat, bread and butter had a high content of caloric fat–our fuel for the night. There were no sweets. Well satisfied, we arranged our sleeping bags and such in the lodge. All packs and gear not needed for sleeping were left outside under tarps. It was crowded inside. Snow was in the air.

Keeping the fire strong and clean in the lodge required attention and understanding. A smoky fire quickly filled the lodge and at best only the lower four feet of air was smoke free. But the fire gave us light and kept the cold from descending through the smoke hole. We were warm together and a magical time lay before us. In a life rhythm a-tune to the seasons, winter slows our pace and opens us to the story, the song, the craft, the guest. During these nights we could be together in a way that is not possible in a day gathering. Time for us had shifted and we dropped into the timelessness of the fire.

Stories can be many things and suit many purposes. We want our stories to be of value to each other, a gifting of our experience. With this intention we told the story of a boy growing up in a village where the salmon run. One day he was absorbed in his experience of watching the salmon and found himself swimming in the waters away from his village toward the sea. There he roamed and fed until he felt again the river’s pull, the call to return to his place of birth. Swimming by his village he was speared by his father and laid to dry in the sun by his mother. He had returned as food for his people. This is the story we hunger for. By the light of the fire each group recounted their tracking experiences. As the information was shared, we asked questions designed to lead the boys into a deeper understanding of the land and its messages. One of the youngest boys was unanimously awarded an owl feather for the wealth of useful information he had gathered.

Not quite ready for sleep and wondering how the other camp was fairing, we decided to visit. After some discussion we settled on an approach. We walked quietly in single file to the edge of their camp, beyond the reach of the fire light. There we stopped and sang ‘I oon ma poo’, which translates as ‘I see the beauty of all the stars in the universe reflected in your eyes’. They responded in kind and then we sang together before walking into the light of the fire. What we saw was very inspiring. The boys had built a long, low lean-to of poles and pine bows, covered with ice and snow. The side walls were built of sticks and snow. The ground of the shelter was covered in a mat of grasses upon which rested their sleeping bags open to the fire. This accommodated the six boys. Tama and Josh each had their own set-up near by. The temperature was around 10 degrees F and snow was imminent. The boys told of their efforts in building their shelter and we sang another song together. We parted with both a great admiration for their adventurous spirit and for our warm lodge. Upon return we settled for the night. We watched the fire and listened to the snow fall. Peter read the first half of the journey of Crow and Weasel. The fire slowly faded and we slept.

Two men were up before the dawn reviving the cooking fire. It was still snowing, adding to the the fresh 3 inches that covered our camp. With fire we melted snow, made coffee and prepared hot cocoa for the boys. Soon they were up and sipping on the hot buttery drink, warming and moving in the growing light. Before breakfast and as the cooking began, we sent all the boys and non-cooks out to their sit-spots for a morning sit. When they returned the food was ready. After giving thanks we tucked into bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, butter, oatmeal and hot liquids. Fuel for the day. After breakfast we gathered by the large white pine and marked with ceremony the commitment that was completed this day. Will Sloane returned to the tree the limb he has been carrying and received a new name. We sang ‘By this tree I sit”. Then we packed some lunch and moved out for a day’s wander.

We soon found a ‘kill-site’ where a mammal had died and became encased in ice. Predators had partially excavated the animal–there were many tracks of many species–yet most of the well rotted creature lay under the thick ice. With an axe some of the men attempted to free the animal for identification–in vain. Meanwhile the boys cleared off the creek and were sliding on the ice.

Eventually it was time to move on. Not hearing the request to move on one of the boys continued and consequently fell, smacking his forehead on the ice: two lemons (awareness and falling). Not too much further along our lead man broke through the ice. His good boots kept his feet dry. He called a warning, yet the boy how slipped on the ice stepped forward and stepped through the ice. When he pulled his foot out of the water his boot was missing. Talli retrieved the boot. When we removed his wet sock there was a cotton sock underneath: three more lemons. That made five lemons and we had to have two of the men quit the walk and carry the boy back to camp. This was a clear example for the others that we needed to be aware and travel with care. Nature Is, and the consequences are real.

Our journey took us through many other beautiful, wondrous and challenging situations.

Finally our energy was waning so we stopped, made a fire and ate. Charles read the poem by Robert Service, The Cremation of Sam McGee. We disappeared our fire and split the group with some returning to camp and others venturing on to Toby’s Cave, where we found the older boys playing on the slope. We hid and watched them for a while, then climbed up and into the cave. Eventually we returned to camp, tired yet full from the day.

It was a good time to dry socks and gloves. Some of the boys got the lodge fire going and began the drying process. Others helped with fire wood and dinner. When we were all fed and warm we entered the lodge. It was time to share our stories of the day. Charles offered a skull as a gift for the most nourishing story. At just that moment two of the older boys arrived to escort Charles to Toby’s cave. They walked into the darkness, across the fields and into the hemlock forest. Up on the mountain side fire light glowed from the mouth of the cave. They entered and Charles shared a story. Back in the lodge something else quite remarkable was unfolding.

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PETER HERE. A piece of the overnight that really impressed me was the second night in the lodge where a number of the younger boys and some of the men gathered after the full day of hiking through the snow and sliding on the ice. The lodge can be smoky depending on the subtle configurations of the fire so everyone tends to stay low and back away from the center, wrapped in blankets on sleeping pads — but not too far back because the it was 15 degrees outside and the fire was throwing heat. The effect is a circle of people riding the edge of visibility, you know where they are by shape and voice and you can see faces when the fire is high or flaring up, but mostly the group tended to remain in soft shadows.

The night is a time for the boys to tell their Story Of The Day which we have been practicing somewhat as a group for the past few times we’ve met. Before we began, Charles pulled a skull from a yogurt container and held it up toward the fire so it could be seen by all — this was going to be the prize for the best story.

The older men spoke first, going around the lodge in turn, telling about what made a story good: specific detail, humor, brevity, surprises, decisions or choices having to be made, imparting knowledge that makes the listener feel smarter, hearing how the storyteller was changed by an event or moment. These were qualities in a story that ‘fed’ the listener.

The boys told their stories in no particular order and there tended to be two types of story: the most popular was the linear unspooling sequence of events. It began invariably with how it felt getting out of the sleeping bag in the morning and then proceeded with a moment to moment (to moment) account of everything the day offered. Yes, this was as difficult and tiresome to listen to as one could imagine — except for a few important things: this was a time for each boy to express themselves, express themselves at length and uninterrupted and whatever it was they were saying was simply accepted, received and considered by the group, unchallenged and uncorrected. When else in the life of a boy does this ever happen?
It was also interesting to hear where the emphasis was for each boy, what landed about the day and what didn’t. (That morning Will Sloan was at the center of a ceremony where he received the name Carries White Pine and the only boy to remember/acknowledge/speak about it was August.) Paying attention to what they say and don’t say helps us (as uncles) understand who and where they are. I realized halfway into the third story of this type that these plodding ordinary epics (that sometimes feel as long as the actual day they’re speaking about) are not about the day, they’re about the boy and therefore valuable.

The other type of story was the single event. Only two boys chose this route and both stories ended on a moment of self-reflection. They were succinct and brief, came to a point and offered a breath of fresh air in a lodge, smoky with rambling details.

(Side note: Liam appeared and told his story of why he wasn’t able to be with us for the overnight — and he even took the bandage off his hand and showed everyone his horrible pus-y infected wound. I think if a vote were to happen among the boys right then, Liam would have walked away with the skull. He left after his story).

Then began the process of choosing who should get the skull. Talli put forward the idea that instead of a democratic vote among the men, that we go around the circle and each speak to who should get the skull and why — and then keep going around the circle until we were all in agreement. The boys were invited to listen but not participate.

Three boys rose to the top in the first round as contenders for the skull: two who had self-reflection (Ihor and Karl) and one with an events-of-the-day type story (August). By the third spin around the circle, the boy with the clear majority had fallen behind and the other two gained support evenly — no obvious winner was emerging. What was happening was a growing discomfort with having to single out a winner. Acknowledgment that all the stories had merit popped up and a few men started throwing their votes to Larry — and Larry and Rolando as a team: as the oldest in the group, they should make the decision. By the fourth round there was growing support for the idea that the top three boys should share the skull and by the sixth spin around the circle consensus was reached . Remember, there were eight men each speaking his mind each time around the fire.

We arrived at the decision that all the stories were important for different reasons. There was the suggestion that individual ownership is a practice that doesn’t necessarily serve a group (especially ownership of a skull that really has only one true owner) therefore the boys would share the skull, pass it from person to person over the weeks left of Track and Sign. Enjoy it while your have it and then let it go.

This decision making process was not easy and was not quick. Attitudes shifted and minds were changed, but also the game began to change and different goals emerged. The larger threads that were being spun: How to make a decision, How to check in with the ideas of others, How to trust a process and not focus on a conclusion, How to listen — all these elements resonated that night.

This was a pretty full night around the campfire — and there wasn’t a scary story or marshmallow in sight. — Peter

***

Dawn approached and the fires were rekindled. The snow collected, the water boiled and the warm drinks were prepared. This dawn found us with a little less energy, our feet a little colder and our gloves stiff with ice. (Had we stayed we would have needed to devote the day to drying and resting a bit.) After our cocoa and coffee those not cooking went to their sit spots to take in the glory of the day. After breakfast we packed up the camp and prepared to depart. At this point the boys met with Talli and while the men walked to the stream for a dip.

TALLI HERE:On Monday around mid-morning I sat with the skull in my hands about thirty feet from where the seven youngest boys were standing. Every so often a boy would glance over in my direction and I would beckon him to come sit beside me. One by one they came over and the skull was passed around silently to be held, observed, and scrutinized.
“You gave the decision of who would have the skull over to your elders and they’ve decided that it is best that you all share it. Now is the time to come to an agreement around how, and when it will be passed between you.” I suggested that we go around in a circle speaking our ideas, waiting silently holding an openness for our ideas and opinions to be changed by what we were hearing from others until it was our turn to speak. We’d go around like this until a plan was made that everyone was happy about. It was difficult at first to hold onto our excitement and eagerness to share our thoughts, however as we relaxed into a listening silence there was a pleasure in hearing our brothers fully and having the space to express our ideas and have them be received.
There was a strong sentiment in the group to keep the time a boy would care-take the skull unset. This came from the wish for everyone to have ample time to experience and delve into the mysteries offered by the skull. Eventually, however, it was seen that it would actually be more supportive of learning and inspiration to set times we’d all gather together to discuss what has been learned and pass the skull on with everyone’s support and intention. There was also the idea of specific learning tasks that would be assigned by the group to the holder of the skull at each pass.
It was decided there would be a meeting and a pass made at each Track and Sign. At each meeting the story of what has been uncovered is to be shared, they will decide on the next task, and, based on who feels most called, the skull will be passed on to the next boy.
After going around speaking and listening for some time we started to get fidgety. Our bodies were telling us we needed to move! We all got up and did a quick shake out, getting our blood circulating and letting go of the jitters. Then we sat back down to finalize our plan.
There were only two more questions to be answered; what would the first task be and who would be the first boy to receive the skull. “The Name!” was the obvious answer to the first. Who is this being who’s solid essence we’re holding and passing among us? Knowing the name will be a gateway to it’s habits, diet, habitat, personality, tracks/trails, signs, and its role in its ecosystem, all coming together to give us a precious glimpse of what life is like through its eyes.
But we weren’t content with simply knowing the common name, no way. The first task was to discover the common name, the Latin name, and those features that distinguishes this creatures skull from others like it.
“Who feels really excited and inspired to be the first to care-take the skull?” I asked. Immediately Owen raised his hand, “I do!”"How does everyone feel about Owen being the first to care-take the skull?” There was a chorus of “Great!”s “Awesome!”s and “Really Great!”s. “Well alright.” I said. The children had spoken.
In our circle we found a way for everyone to receive the gift of the skull, explore the mysteries surrounding it, and experience support from their brothers through it all. However, more importantly I think, we had an experience of decision making where everyone’s individual voice was heard and honored while maintaining focus on finding a solution that worked for everyone. What incredible power will these boys have as they carry into the world the value of honoring each person’s voice and grow into the skills needed to realize it?
– Talli

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At the stream the men were joined there by the older boys from the survival camp. Rolando graciously opened the ice with an axe to allow us to enter the water. Drying in the morning sunshine was a perfect ‘last act’ to a rich and wondrous winter weekend. We gathered our things and headed back to the meadow. There we met with the arriving families for our closing circle.

January 4, 2009 Clove Road

December 14, 2008 Clove Road