Chattermarks

Students in the M.E.d Graduate Program celebrated the start of winter break with the Strait Talk, Sound Ideas Conference on Bainbridge Island from December 11th through 13th. As part of a series of three Instructor Exchanges aimed at sharing ideas and experiences between Environmental Education graduate programs in Washington, this conference kicked off the set hosted each by Islandwood, the Wilderness Awareness School and the North Cascades Institute.

Strait Talk, Sound Ideas brought together naturalists and outdoor educators at the Islandwood campus for keynote speakers, workshops and breakout sessions. The three-day event began with an evening of sharing songs and skits and served as an introduction to each other and our programs. Participants took advantage of one of the most beneficial parts of a gathering like this, the informal conversations and discussions about each other’s work in the field of Environmental Education.

» Continue reading Graduate Students Attend Environmental Education Conference

“I think we’re going to the moon because it’s in the nature of the human being to face challenges. It’s by the nature of his deep inner soul… we’re required to do these things just as salmon swim upstream.” ~ Neil Armstrong

In the fall, the Skagit River is flooded with dying salmon. I have spent three weekends in the past two months trying to capture the essence of these amazing creatures on camera. I am still not sure whether I succeeded in doing so, but I am happy to share my experiences.

Hanging out with snorkeling gear in 36-degree water probably isn’t everybody’s favorite thing to do, but since I moved up to the Environmental Learning Center, it has become my preferred hobby. The place I like to go is the Cascade River just upstream of where it enters the Skagit. When the salmon are running, you know where to find me!

There’s something extraordinary about being amongst these primordial beings and watching them in their natural habitat. It’s like I get to peer in through a secret window into the lives of one of nature’s wildest creatures. While watching the fish swarm around me and make their redds, defend their territory, court a mate, or just plain get feisty with each other, I begin to understand a little more of the complexity of this species. I don’t know their whole story, but I try to imagine all they have been through. Seeing their scars and bacteria loaded scales gives me a clue.

A dying, diseased female humpy on the final legs of her journey back to her native spawning grounds.

» Continue reading Swimming with the Salmon

Practicing natural history requires us to be consciously aware, to be intentional observers of our surroundings. To be a naturalist involves surrendering what we know about a place in order to learn from it. Slowly we will make notes of patterns and similarities, notes of how things are connected and how and when these connections occur. When we become familiar with a place, that familiarity is grounded in our first efforts to identify and name individual pieces of the landscape.

In my dalliances so far into the naturalist world and into the North Cascades, I have made attempts to name what I see, collect these pieces as parts of a whole, and better understand this place as my home. Learning and pulling from the experiences of the naturalists of our community is a special part of the M.Ed. Graduate Residency at North Cascades Institute I have been inspired by words and experiences about what it means to identify something by name, to understand the patterns of place, to see the connection between recognition and reverence, and to cultivate that curiosity that pulls us more deeply into relationships with the places we call home. Here are some thoughts I’ve gleaned and some experiences I’ll share about the art of naming in the practice of natural history.

» Continue reading Naming as Knowing

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot. Wouldn’t you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name! And they’re always glad you came! You want to go where you can see people are all the same. You want to go where everybody knows your name.” - Cheers’ Theme

The lyrics from that familiar childhood song ring true and clear to me these days, perhaps more so than they used to. Having recently moved to the North Cascades Institute’s Environmental Learning Center, I feel not only transported to a different place, but to a different time as well. Similar to the friends from Cheers who, at the end of each day, gathered on bar stools to clink mugs together and exchange stories, I look forward to seeing familiar, friendly faces around the kitchenette table, sipping tea or coffee and swapping light-hearted tales of the day. And yes, up here, everybody knows my name. And I, theirs.

It might be hard to imagine within the context of today’s constantly connected and communicating world, but picture a small, remote community consisting of twenty-five people. Tucked up in a beautiful corner of the world, this community is surrounded with towering snow-capped mountain peaks, glacial fed lakes and rivers, and trails greener than any you have ever seen. This community lives together: at least one hour from any fully equipped grocery store and two hours away from other “basic amenities” (a hospital, for example). This community works together: some days from seven o’clock in the morning until nine or ten at night – full days that usually require a special kind of energy and attentiveness for engaging with youth. This community plays together: at the end of a long week, down time affords opportunities to climb mountains, canoe across icy turquoise waters, and find hidden sit spots just off trail that allow for peaceful reflection on the brilliant, changing colors of our vine maples. This community doesn’t have cell phones (at least not ones that get reception). And most importantly, this community comes together as a group of individuals, often separated from families and partners by great distance. This community is home away from home. This community is a family – my family. This community is the North Cascades Institute.

Part of the ELC family enjoys dinner together. Photo by Katie Tozier.

» Continue reading Finding Community in the North Cascades

Last weekend Cohort 11 graduate students had the chance to step away from our roles as Mountain School Instructors and again return to being students of Natural History during our three day Fall Grad Retreat. After weeks of training and teaching 5th and 6th grade youth about the diverse ecosystems of the North Cascades, the respite from such high activity was much appreciated by all. Our explorations took us by hand and knee through douglas fir forests near home, and by car and foot through the ponderosa pine and fire-scarred forests in the Methow Valley.

Day one of the retreat was spent near the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center campus with M.Ed. graduate alumna and mycologist Lee Whitford discussing the amazing yet unfamiliar world of fungi and their fruiting mushroom bodies. After learning some basic facts and characteristics about our earthy friends, we set out to do some local harvesting of our own (on Forest Service land, of course!). It took some time to adjust our eyes and hone our observational skills to the often unnoticed specimens hidden between leaf, detritus, and tree trunk, but half an hour and handfuls of mushrooms later our forage had yielded an impressive and diverse variety of them.

» Continue reading From Teacher to Student and Back Again

I knew that when I moved to North Cascades Institute’s Environmental Learning Center to begin the residency portion of my Masters in Environmental Education degree, it was going to be an amazing year. I have always wanted to live on a lake in the mountains, so this part of the program was a big draw for me. Unsurprisingly, the year flew by and, before I knew it, summer was drawing to a close and it was time to return to Bellingham for the last two quarters at Western Washington University. But before returning to that more “civilized” and academic sphere, I decided to both symbolically and physically transition away from my amazing year living in the midst of the North Cascades by backpacking from Ross Lake to Bellingham with another grad student and several North Cascades Institute staff.

Map of our route, heading west from Ross Lake to Hannegan Pass Trailhead

We only had four and a half days to make this trek, so we had to cut a few corners:  we took a boat from Ross Lake dam up to Little Beaver Creek, and were then picked up from the Hannegan Pass Trailhead.  If we had been purists, we would have hiked the entire route. However, that would have taken a bit more time than we had. Our roughly forty-five mile, 7500′ gain route, camping at Perry Creek, Tapto Lakes, Copper Creek, and Egg Lake, still gave us long, but breathtakingly beautiful days.

» Continue reading From the Learning Center to Bellingham: A Grad’s Transition Back to the ‘Real World’

Lately, on these cool autumn mornings at the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center, I’ve taken to gazing south from my porch as the first, angled rays of sun illuminate the buttress of Pyramid Peak across Diablo Lake. Since our first torrential weather event passed through a few weeks ago, the steep walls of Pyramid have glistened with snow dustings in the early light, giving relief and texture to the bare, sculptured rock. I breathe deeply, savoring my gratitude for these moments to welcome the day.

Sometimes I wonder at how lucky I am to be living in the presence of such rugged giants as Pyramid, Colonial and Sourdough peaks in the heart of the North Cascades. In my first month of being here as part of the M.Ed.Graduate Program, I have sought to learn the names and scale the slopes of these and other mountains in my new backyard as a way to understand, and become attentive to, the stories written on this landscape. Some peaks — Desolation, Logan, Hozomeen, the McMillan Spires — appear as glimpses on clear days if you stand in the right drainage, at the right angle and distance. I still shout and point when I see them, for their glaciated summits rise as silent, colossal forms into the sky.

» Continue reading Peaks in Place

Last week, half of the members of our latest cohort of graduate students posted “have you ever…” questions, sharing the triumphs and tribulations of our nine-day backpacking trip and challenging you to create your own “have you ever” story. This week, the rest of the students tell their stories.

Ashley Kvitek

Have you ever hiked to the highest point you’ve been in your life, seen the sun rise over the mountains surrounding you, and felt on top of the world?  At the tail end of our 9-day backpack through our new home, we stayed at Juanita Lake.  During our night there we watched the full moon rise, got up at midnight to try getting a view of the meteor shower, and then went on a sunrise hike up Boulder Butte, sitting at 7372 feet above sea level.  It was a short hike full of blister pain and pre-caffeine attitude problems, but at the top there was a 360° view of the white-topped mountains of the North Cascades.  As I watched the sun come up and wash over my new home, I had a moment of clarity that told me, “I am here, and I am ready.”  It was a magical sight and a special moment for me- this is my time, and I am finally in it!



Boulder Butte

Sarah Bernstein

Have you ever been so worried that you would run out of food on a backpacking trip that you decide to pack some fancy shmancy meals only to realize on the second night of your trip that you just want macaroni and cheese? Have you ever made mashed potatoes on day two that are SO bad you would rather pack out the extra weight than eat those mashed potatoes? A few things I learned about eating on a backpacking trip: One, salami and cheese gets old, greasy and mushy fast. Two, peanut butter for lunch and macaroni and cheese for dinner is simple and relatively light weight, plus it tastes pretty great after carrying 50 pounds on your back for five to ten miles a day. And finally, you will

be hungry, but not THAT hungry, and in the end the chances of starving in the backcountry when traveling with nine other friends is pretty small.

Sarah Bernstein and Susan Brown cook a meal at camp.

Jess Newley demonstrates the yumminess of mac ‘n’ cheese.

Jess Newley

Have you ever taken in a wilderness experience with all 5 senses?

…smelled the vanilla bark of a Ponderosa Pine?

…listened to the creaking of a 5 year old burn site in the wind?

….watched a magical sunrise over a 360 degree range of mountains?

…. tasted the goodness of mac n’ cheese after carrying it 60 miles?

… felt the chill of glacier water on your head, falling from 50 feet above?

Jess Newley takes a dip in Rainbow Falls

» Continue reading “Have you ever…” Part II