Learning From Chaos
Honing outdoor leadership by being thrown in the deep end
Talya Lehrich
This past summer I had the privilege of living and working in the Rocky Mountains at a jewish outdoor sleep away camp. Along with a wonderful co-counselor, I had ten girls in my tent (basically a bunk except we sleep in tents at base camp without electricity or running water, pictured below). Most mornings began with a trail run, prayer as a community, and of course, the chaos of getting ten seventh grade girls ready for the day. I spent the day leading mountain biking while my girls went to their chosen activities such as climbing, orienteering, and farm.
Every other week we would leave base camp for a backcountry backpacking trip. Leading these excursions was by and large my favorite part of the summer; I found that when you removed the kids from the stimulation and distraction that comes with community living, and allow them to hyperfocus on smaller tasks such as working together to build a fire and distracting one another from the pouring rain and lack of shelter, that immense personal growth occurred. The first trip of the summer put whatever skills I thought I had to the ultimate test.
Though we were able to keep COVID out of camp all summer, the infamous camp crud still plagued the camp. Luckily, only one of my campers was sick when we set out for the first trip of the summer, my girls sporting full packs and excitement to spend the next few days together. All was well on day one, until late afternoon when our series of unfortunate events began to unravel.
Day one had its struggles, including swarming mosquitoes, broken stoves, a burned hand, and a midnight thunderstorm. However the biggest concern was the fever that my sick camper had developed, and only seemed to be getting worse. In the morning, we packed up and prepared for day two on the trail, fueled by cold soaked oats, due to the broken stoves (do you know how hard it is to get 11 year olds to eat cold oatmeal made with chlorine purified water??). After they had reluctantly finished the oatmeal, I filled everyone’s bowls with rice and water, hoping it would rehydrate itself by lunchtime.
As we began to hike, it became increasingly noticeable that my sick camper was having a hard time; she struggled to walk, crying and grasping onto trees along the trail. Throughout the morning she got progressively more miserable, to the point of disruption to the rest of the group. We stopped for lunch at the top of the mountain, admiring the view while eating cold soaked rice and canned tuna, which to my surprise got rave reviews! I conversed with my two co-leaders and we decided to evacuate the sick camper back into camp, for her safety and the good of the group. It was decided that I would walk her into base camp then double back on the trail to meet back with the group later that afternoon.
Just then, it began to rain, and shortly after we were amist thunderstorm. As everyone finished up lunch, I took her pack, on top of my own so she could walk more quickly, and we headed down the trail towards base camp. We chatted and sang as I continually reassured her every step was getting her closer. After a few long miles of carrying two packs, we reached the boundary near base camp. Suddenly I saw a man, accompanied by a girl, waving his arms and shouting my name; it was the head rabbi (camp director), sporting his usual hiking boots with a nalgene in his hiking shorts pocket: not your typical rabbi. Still in the woods before camp property, he greeted us and explained the situation. What situation? Indeed, I was not aware that there was a situation either until that point.
He was to take my camper back to camp to get medical care, I was to take another camper, the girl we had come with, to her group who was somewhere along the trail. He opened a map and pointed to two points, indicating that her group should be somewhere between them, but they had not received a ping from their gps since the previous day. Having been incredibly malprepared for this endeavor, he gave me a map, a med kit, a garmin communication device, and extra water. With the new camper, I headed onto the trail, into the pouring rain, back into the backcountry in search of her group. To both our excitement, we easily found her group, who had stopped for the night much closer to basecamp than we had expected. I released her to the custody of her own counselors and went to check in with them.
This group had started out with ten campers and three counselors; they were now down to nine campers and two counselors, separated when one camper had a panic attack and needed some space, but it had now been hours and many miles since they had seen them. Camp policy requires that when seperating from a group you must travel in at least pairs, and since their group was left with only two counselors, they could not leave the campers to search for their missing group members. I crouched with the two remaining counselors under a tarp in protection from the storm as they showed me on a map where they had last seen the missing two. Since my group still had three counselors, we decided that when I got back to my group, I would take one of them and we would hike up the trail and look for their missing group members.
I continued up the trail and eventually found my group, huddled under tarps, but nonetheless, laughing and singing Hebrew songs. Sad to leave my girls again so quickly, my co-leader Alex and I speed hiked/trail ran back up the trail we had just descended hours earlier. After an hour and still no sign of them we decided it was best to return back to our group.
12 extra miles hiked, still no sign of the missing camper and counselor, and still two broken stoves, Alex and I settled back with our group to eat cold soaked lentils and dry granola for dinner (again, do you know how hard it is to get 11 year olds to eat cold lentils??). About an hour later we received a message from basecamp on our garmin that the missing two had been found and would return to base camp safely (turns out they had lost the trail, backtracked all the way to the trailhead, and somehow found their way to a school where they called base camp who picked them up).
Aside from a minor incident with setting a log on fire, the rest of the trip ran smoothly as the girls bonded and learned to support one another. Despite the numerous mishaps, this was the greatest hands on learning experience I could have undergone. Staying calm under pressure, tending to medical issues, and making due with nonfunctional gear were skills I was forced to practice in real time, all the while making sure the kids were content.
I hope this long recounting of my time in the woods was both mildly entertaining and a reminder that challenges are a chance for personal growth, to develop your skills as a leader, and humble yourself as a student.
