Update 13

Hello again, everyone!

We left you all as we packed up to head out on the river for the first time. On April 23, we said our goodbyes and walked out of North Woods, paddles in hand, lifejackets strapped to our chests, and stepped off of a dock onto the Clyde River and into canoes to begin our journey. It was a bittersweet moment leaving North Woods, our home for more than a month, but adventure sat ahead in a canoe of its own, beckoning to us. Accompanying us was Kevin, an experienced river guide from Maine, who would stay with us until April 27.  So, off we went, into the captivating world of the water and wind.  On the dock, just before setting out, I took note that the wind was blowing the WRONG WAY, a significant disappointment, since on our practice days the wind blew upstream and we were about to fight both wind and current going up the Clyde; but so it went, and the first day was fantastic, with the only casualty being Malcolm’s water bottle, which was lost at our first lunch site.

We set up camp on the riverside in the evening and slept well after a good first day.  On our second day, April 24, we woke up, got ready, and picked paddle partners. Everyday we tried to paddle with a different person to keep our trip fresh and varying. We continued paddling up the Clyde, eventually reaching Island Pond, where we had a snack consisting of Cheddar Bunnies (a big treat, in my opinion) and brownies from a local store (a treat enjoyed by all). We paddled across the pond amid wind and waves, and took out at a beach on the other side. We experienced our first portage between Island Pond and nearby Spectacle Pond, where we enjoyed a lunch of homemade hummus and tortillas.
On the other side of Spectacle Pond, we took out again and portaged along trails to the headwaters of the Nulhegan River, a marshy area filled with beaver dams.  The next day, April 25, began with navigating log jams and beaver dams on the Nulhegan. At times we had to pull the canoes over the dams (a fairly difficult task considering that each canoe was carrying a very heavy load of boxes, buckets, backpacks, and pack baskets) or wade through the water to clear the way. As we progressed through the day, the river turned into a never-ending zigzag of oxbows, each one looking almost identical to the last. We camped with the plan to begin lining the canoes down the rapids in the morning. 

On the morning of the 26^th, we tied everything to the insides of the canoes so that, in the event of a canoe flipping in the rapids, we wouldn’t lose anything. As we approached our first set of rapids, Kevin deemed them safe enough to run, so we paddled.  It was a bit nerve racking for me, even in minor rapids, since canoes always seemed so tippy before coming to Kroka, but it turned out pretty great and everyone enjoyed the short run of easy-ish rapids. Unfortunately, we came up on more difficult water that we needed to portage around. After portaging and paddling a few short distances, we got to where we could line down the river. 



Lining, for any that may not know, is walking the canoe through the water using primarily the upstream painter (rope tied to the upstream end of the canoe) from on or near the shore. Fortunately, it was a nice warm day for getting our feet wet, as we all ended up off of the shore due to the dense alder thicket on the bank. The day ended with a final paddle and long portage on trails to camp. On April 27,we bid Kevin farewell, but not before doing a short distance of lining and ferrying across the river in the morning. Though we had one teacher depart we had some other things appear. We were resupplied with food and gear, but most notably and most importantly, our Andrew and Michal, who brought tales of the pond at Kroka and other adventures.  They arrived just in time for our cuddle-puddle. It was a cold day, so we all felt the need to crawl into our sleeping bags and get into a big pile. Andrew and Lu left for a short time to set up our gear pickup for the next day and returned with, yep, you guessed it, PIZZA! And along with the pizza came, to some disappointment, SNOW! 

So our first liveover (non-travel day on trail) was spent huddled up, ready for the return of the sun. On the 28^th we awoke to a thin blanket of snow. We portaged a short way and put in and, for the first time, we used our new cedar-canvas canoe.  It was great to now have our entire fleet of canoes and our entire group present. A short time later, we came out onto the Connecticut River. We had now reached our main highway, our main route, and our way back home to Kroka. We stepped onto New Hampshire soil for the first time since February 1, where the group waited on a playground for the re-supply to be picked up from the Vermont side of the river. After a snack, we got moving on the river again and moved at a much faster speed than we had ever moved on trail before, while doing significantly less work. On April 29, we spent a full day on the Connecticut River, the first of many to come.  We knew we would be arriving at Guild Hall Dam, a breached dam, sometime around mid-day, where we planned on portaging. As we approached a bridge crossing the River at Guild Hall, we noticed a short span of rapids. Everyone ran them and the occasion seemed uneventful and fun. As time passed, however, and no dam ruins were reached, we realized that the rapids had, in fact, been the dam. Once again, though, we had to give up one of our teachers, and Andrew said goodbye and headed back to Kroka. That evening, we camped on the Vermont bank in an oxbow. As the canoes were being unloaded, Conor was rocking our new canoe back and forth. The boat tipped and swamped and Conor was standing waist deep in the water. We all had a good laugh. Apparently his rain pants even kept him partially dry. Later in the evening, Polly, the dog musher and guide from Maine who had showed us a slide show at North Woods and who is Kevin’s partner, came with her dog, Nola, to teach us for a few days. Her specialty was outdoor baking and we had some awesome desserts the next few nights. April 30 was Malcolm’s birthday. 

We portaged around Gilman Dam and paddled down to Moore Reservoir, where we spent our first night in New Hampshire since January 31. Along the way, Noah found an abandoned River Rat inner tube, which he towed behind the canoe. To celebrate Malcolm’s birthday, Polly showed us how to make a cake in a Dutch oven. Needless to say, it tasted good. On May 1, we paddled the rest of the distance down Moore Reservoir and then portaged around Moore Dam. We ran out of water, so we stopped at a house on the riverside to get water. As we waited, Noah tried out the River Rat and lounged in the water for a few minutes before we continued on. We camped on the New Hampshire bank of Comerford Reservoir across from a graveyard that night.  On the 2^nd, we finished paddling down Comerford and portaged around the dam. The portage trail on the downstream side of the dam was so steep that Josia attempted to sled down the grassy slope. Silly Josia. We then camped on Nine Island, which was where Polly left us from. I paddled with Polly to drop her off on a road on the Vermont bank, where we basically traded her for Tom. 

It’s unfortunate to see teachers leave so quickly, but their lessons always stay with us. Tom, however, would be with us for the rest of the expedition.  I paddled back to camp with Tom and immediately we began learning how to tan leather from him.  He showed us the solution of mayonnaise, soap, and water in which the raw hide would soak overnight. We used the hides from the deer that Everett had found (as road kill) and which he had scraped as well as some hides that Tom brought with him.  

On May 3, we had our leather tanning live-over on Nine Island and we spent the day bouncing people up and down on trampolines of leather (in order to stretch it). In the afternoon, Nat Trip came and told us about the history of that part of the river and the confluence of the Connecticut and Passumpsic Rivers where Nine Island is situated. He talked about the nearby upstream dams (especially Comerford) and their significance for the area. It was a very interesting listen. On May 4, we continued our journey south, portaging around McIndoe and Dodge dams and negotiating weird currents in “the Narrows”, an area where the river’s current twists and turns a lot in a very small space between cliffs and a piece of land jutting out into the river. Apparently, last year’s semester was warned of a large whirlpool to be avoided in the Narrows. They were forced to portage because of higher water levels. We were safe, though, and they proved only to be a small adventure. We camped that night on Howard Island. In the morning on May 5, Lu told the story of Cinco de Mayo (one of Mexico’s several independence days) and how the Mexican army unexpectedly beat the French out of Mexico at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. At lunch, we pulled off to the bank and Malcolm launched into a nostalgic speech about how he had been coming to that spot for the past few years with the Kroka Paddlers’ trips. He had fun there. Meanwhile, a helicopter was obnoxiously swooping down and going in circles around a big section of river that just happened to include our spot. It turned out that in a nearby town, there was a monster truck rally going on. We could hear the trucks roaring and the crowd screaming. Lu and Josia stopped at Robie Farm just before arriving at camp to pick up milk, bacon, and ice cream. We were happy campers. Tom also set up smoking stations for the hides. The smoking finishes the tanning process. The leather would be ready for moccasin making the next day. On the 6^th, we had another liveover and Lisl came to teach us how to make moccasins. Later, at dinner, the idea was proposed that we wake up in the wee morning hours and do a moonlight paddle. 

We planned to be out of camp by 3:00 AM, but we took a while and were late to leave, so we got on the river at 3:05 AM instead (we weren’t that late). The moon was big and bright and we had a lovely quiet paddle in the dark. We got to watch the sun come up around 6:00. It was a little bit cold and we hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, so we stopped on the New Hampshire bank, where there just happened to be a fire pit, and made a fire and ate granola around it. That may have been the best breakfast we’ve had yet!  Since we had an early start, we arrived in camp pretty early. We camped on the New Hampshire bank in a nature preserve with lots of trails near Dartmouth College, where Lu had gone to school. After it became apparent that we were in a frequently hiked public area of the woods, we moved our camp to the island directly across. On May 8, we portaged around another dam and arrived at Sumner Falls, which we portaged around and camped just south of it. 

On the morning of the 9^th, we paddled back up to Sumner Falls where we awaited Misha’s arrival and the beginning of our white water day. We played a canoe game called “Yummy Fish” in which every canoe tries to capture all of the bailers and throw ropes from the other canoes. It was a fun game. Somehow, Everett’s paddle ended up in the boat that Conor and I were in after a brief fight for our throw ropes. Eventually, Misha arrived with two canoes, wet suits, and other gear. We all prepared our canoes with flotation devices and suited ourselves up and got onto the water. First we learned about rescues (and forced canoe flipping so that other people could practice rescuing us), then we learned about bracing.  Everett, Michal, Dean, and I all flipped our canoes practicing bracing (whoops).  We practiced running a wavy portion at the end of the rapids on the side channel before running the main channel. After lunch, we carried the canoes up to the start of the rapids and ran them down the main channel. It was nerve-racking for some of us, but everyone did awesome. We repeated that run another time before assessing the side channel, which is probably where the “Falls” comes from in “Sumner Falls”. Everyone decided that we wanted to run the slightly more difficult side channel and Adam volunteered to direct everyone from the pile of rocks in the middle of the river that splits the current. No one flipped on any of the real runs and we all had a super great time. We went back down to camp and did laundry in the stream next to us. 
On the 10^th we got moving again. We passed by and stopped at an island where we found wild leeks, which we picked and cooked for the next few meals. We traveled on and stopped in the late morning at Path Of Life Gardens, which we toured.  The gardens are an artistic representation of the stages of life. One of the stages was “Adventure”, which was depicted by a huge hemlock maze (we all got lost). “Ambition” was a small hill with a path up it. The sign that said “Ambition” also had arrows pointing around the hill that said “Less” and arrows pointing up the path on the hill that said “More”. The Path Of Life ended with Death and, shortly afterward, Rebirth.  It was a very silent, meditative experience. That afternoon we arrived at MacLennan Farms, our campsite for the next two days. The owners of the farm were dogsledders and had Siberian huskies, with which some of us got the privilege of working. They even let us pick their surplus asparagus crop.  On the 11^th, we had another liveover. Roger Haydock, an amateur geologist, gave us a geological tour up Mt. Ascutney.  Roger sure was a character. We had a very enjoyable day listening to him and having him point out the differences in the rocks, soil, and vegetation as we moved up the mountain.  On May 12, we all did service at MacLennan Farms. We all divided up and worked on various tasks, like being distracted by tons of fluffy dogs.  Some of us filled in dog holes (I swear, they dig like badgers), others cleaned out dog pens, and some cleared out river cane in the stream nearby. The owners, Alex and Kathy, served us lunch. It had been so long since we’d been exposed to the now foreign food of the outside world. There were bananas and pineapple, apple cider and cold cuts. We considered it a rare treat.  We got back in the boats after lunch and headed out again, but this time we only went a short distance. We unloaded on the New Hampshire bank near Jarvis Island, but instead of setting up camp, we divided up food and headed out on our own for overnight solos.  Most of us followed a stream and camped near it. Most of the group fasted the next day, the 13^th, during the solo. It was a great time to think, meditate, sleep, explore, or work on projects. Everyone returned from his or her solos in the evening on the 13^th.  

We spent May 14 on the river. It was a long day, but we reached Bellows Falls in the afternoon.  We portaged through town (long portage) and put in on the south side of the dam. We reached camp at the confluence of the Cold River and the Connecticut River in an exhausted state.  On the morning of May 15, we said our goodbyes to the Connecticut and began lining up the Cold. We were lining in some deep water, so we were fighting a difficult fight with the rapids on our feet.  Eventually, during a ferry, a canoe swamped and gear went floating downstream. Malcolm had an adventure swimming down chasing and rescuing the gear. After that mishap, we began portaging. The system of leapfrogging our gear became the most useful method, so we’d carry our gear for about a kilometer, go back for the canoes, and repeat until we’d reached our destination. We got to end the day with a short section of paddling and lining, along with pushing canoes over beaver dams in an inflow that we followed to find camp. We camped on an island in a beaver pond right near the river. On the 16^th, we continued lining until we reached Alstead.  Lisl dropped by while we were still lining. We had seen Nathan the day before just before we paddled into camp at the beaver pond. We took out at Alstead and began our final haul back to Marlow.  During our lunch break, two Kroka vans almost passed us by, but they saw us and stopped to say hi.  They were taking the San Diego Waldorf School out for an expedition.  The portage ended in East Alstead, where we put into Lake Warren and paddled out to Pine Island, the last campsite of the expedition.  Just after camp was set up, a surprise thunderstorm rolled in.  There is definitely something special and unique about thunderstorms in contrast to any other rainstorm. The rain subsided after about a half hour and clear skies returned.  In the morning on the 17^th, we reflected on our final stretch of travel, our final camping spot, and the expedition we had just experienced. We paddled across Lake Warren and began our last portage home to Kroka.

We arrived at Kroka around midday on May 17. So ended our amazing expedition. We’ve been cleaning up and getting back into the swing of things here. The new pond is really cool. It feels good to be back, though we all miss our trail and river lives. We will be sure to get the most out of these next few weeks here.

We’ll be keeping all of you posted. Until next time,

-Willie

Candids from the river:

Update 12

Hello again everybody!

We arrived back at NorthWoods on Thursday in the evening after a delightful farm tour. I left y’all on Tuesday evening after a jam packed day of Bonnieview Farms Sheep Dairy touring, visiting Bread And Puppet, and visiting Vermont Natural Coatings and their manufacturing facility. We got to Craftsbury Common with time to spare, so everyone bolted for the town library, which happened to be behind the church at which we would be staying. After doing some work and napping in the library, we ate dinner on the library’s lawn and went to bed in the church’s basement. It turned out to be a very cozy and convenient arrangement.

On Wednesday morning, after getting to sleep in a little bit, we set out for Sterling College, only a few blocks away, to help out at All-College Work Day. We separated ourselves into three groups and set about doing different tasks with specific groups of students. The student body of Sterling is made up of only about 100 students, so our group was the equivalent of almost 10% of the college. Conor, Dean, and Adam raked and cleaned windows, Everett, Michal, and Josia took part in the dismantling of a greenhouse, and Malcolm, Noah, and I went to Hardwick with some students to clean up flood damage in the community gardens and move some garden infrastructure to a new location. By 4:00, we were all done with our tasks and met back up at the Sterling campus. We regrouped and headed back to the church, where people were beginning to prepare the evening’s community dinner. The dinner at 6:30 was a happening occasion. The young and the old, families and friends, and probably mostly parishioners came, but other Craftsbury Common folk also showed. We began chatting with two girls there who happened to be fairly new Sterling students. Following a long conversation between them and our group, they offered us an informal tour of the Sterling farm. We were quite happy to take them up on that offer, so we set out, mostly barefoot, to go over to the farm. They showed us two little goats, Jorge and Julio, two sows and their piglets (full grown pigs are frightening and I would much rather come face to face with one in bacon form than in person), some calves, and the draft horses, which they, apparently, have a program devoted to. They proceeded to show us the “sunset tree” and some of the dorms. After the tour we headed back through the dark to the church for bed.

On Thursday, we piled in the van once more and left Craftsbury Common and headed for Fred Webster’s farm. Fred Webster is a 91-year-old farmer who is known for collecting old farm equipment, primarily from his own heritage and from other local farms. He was a funny guy with an awesome sense of humor and plenty of stories. Apparently, the band Phish used some of his antique farm equipment for a concert of theirs nearby a few years ago. He seemed to have a very high opinion of the band and their fans (to my combined surprise and delight) after seeing the works of art they made out of his equipment. He gave us a tour of his rickety long barns filled with interesting paraphernalia ranging from wooden horse treadmills to buggies that he let us race around. He had also built a stagecoach and was in the middle of constructing another. After putting off leaving for some time, we finally had to say goodbye. We set out once more for the horizon, bound for Butterworks, a 275-acre organic farm run by Jack and Anne Lazor. We met Jack, the owner, who gave us a tour of his barn and showed us his indoor winter pasture (an interesting idea). The vibe I got from Jack was that he was just a very down-to-earth, genuine, nice, easy-to-talk-to person with a calm demeanor. He had been a part of the “Back to the Land” movement in the 70s and found his place in grain and dairy farming. We helped him remove rocks from one of his fields and in return were given some kefir and cheese. Working with the rocks in Jack’s field was a trip back home on a certain level. We had not had much exposure to dry dust on winter trail, so I had been removed from that world. I began to think about the hot and dusty land that I’ve left behind for a time. Though there are significant differences between a dusty grain field in Vermont and a ranch in Northern Mexico, I made a bittersweet connection between my divided halves, which will eventually be reunited. To go along with the delicious dairy gifts we were given, we also bought some kefir, cheese, cream, and yogurt, some of which was consumed on the spot. I, personally, have decided that kefir is one of my favorite cultured dairy products. We returned to NorthWoods in the evening, dusty but satisfied. We began dismantling our camp upon arrival in preparation for the river, which we are all anticipating excitedly. Friday night, Lisl, Stefan, and Raina joined us to help with the coming river preparations. Pack out is Saturday and our journey will commence on Monday.

The next time you’ll here from us will probably be upon our arrival at Kroka in mid-May. I look forward to reporting on the exciting expedition to come. We hope all is well with everyone.

Until May,

-Willie C.

Here are some reflections on our farm tour and certain aspects of it.

Farm Tour

-Everett

What are we doing? Sleeping in a basement, breaking our routine and sitting for hours? Learning. Learning and experiencing other people’s small lives. Experiencing what they did thirty, forty, fifty years ago and where they have come to now. Every one rode around in buggies once and still thought about their impact on the Earth. We met some people like that. We harvested stones fro ma great field of them. It was dusty and dry, and windy. The wind blew around the tower that looked out in all four directions on the small empire of yogurt two people had created. Isn’t it a beautiful sight? Fields and great turning belts and gears and motors and creaking wooden constructs that were brought there with excitement for their potential. That is what the Farm Tour is about, seeing the people who have made something from something and built what they need to create, what they love. A passion for the land was in all of them, and they were excited about the sea of opportunities.

Fred Webster

-Adam

There have been a lot of changes in the world since 1921, the year Fred Webster was born. All he hoped to do in life was farm and teach, farming being a “primary occupation”, while teaching was just a “secondary occupation”. He worked at both careers, despite how he sees both as belittled by the society they underpin. Now at age 65, he does not want to go for morning walks and sit idly in the house. His hobby, his obsession, and his passion for years has been collecting the everyday relics of a bygone rural past, from buggies to sap buckets to farm machines. He is a particular sort of curator; if a sleigh’s front was bent from having lumber stored on top of it in some barn, or a handbag forgotten on a buggy seat, he has left them as they were, and neatly tagged them for his museum’s catalogue. He is unwilling to renovate or refurbish the past, or alter any of the battered rural treasures has amassed. His collections attempts to “show the evolution of things”, whether they be shovels, threshers, axles, or vehicles. Mr. Webster has sacrificed dearly for this end, hoping to show young people the recent history he fears they have little connection to. But if you think, “the Old Days were simpler?” he’ll answer definitively, “Oh no, there was a science back then.” He has sold cows to afford antiques, and all while putting 8 kids through school as a single father. No wonder he was known for falling asleep while teaching Drivers Ed, considering he got up at 2:30 most mornings to milk 40 cows before getting his kids ready. Accordingly, he will be the first to remind he has paid for his whole collections, and is free of debt. To those who “want to do their own thing”, he’ll shout, “Fiddlesticks! You’re ‘trying to find your way?’ Get moving buddy!” This fits with a man brought up on a family farm, where there was always work to do, and someone to tell you how to do it. Even when the price of milk plummeted and credit dried up you could shovel gravel for 15 cents an hour, as part of Roosevelt’s “socialist” programs. And if anybody ever asks you why you should get the job at an interview, respond that you can work, and then prove it when you get the job.  Mr. Webster has worked every year of his life, and is proud of doings so.
He is not an environmentalist, but he is a liberal; and he won’t apologize for anything. During our visit to his property, he taught us how to “pull tits” (milk a cow), how to use a shovel properly, educated us on the decorum of peeing on a farm, and encouraged us to race 200 year old buggies around his farm-yard. When we asked him about his legacy, he said his greatest fear is that his collection will be scattered someday, and the oral history he recorded go unpublished. Standing amidst the dozens of machines, sleighs, and boilers you may see a mass of broken junk rusting in a dilapidated barn, or you may see a man’s life’s work, and the history he seeks to carry forward to all those willing to learn from it. 

Butterworks Farm

-Michal

“I bet you’re all from the suburbs?” he asked in a peaceful almost whisper. Yes, I am, and I remembered just how lucky I felt to be in that place where I stood, in a field covered in rocks to be moved, in the amazing little room at the top of he grain tower, the magical indoor pasture.  I remembered the suburbs; It hasn’t been long.  You don’t walk on green grass that is not your own.   I drove once for 45 minutes to find local organic milk.  Horses are against the law, but here the children were walking one around their yard, playing.  There was something in the way they treated that place, and it treated them back in kind.  Jack told us that he was part of the back to the land movement, coming from elsewhere to put everything that he had into the creation and management of this farm, and yet he belonged so happily and completely that you could hear his voice echoing the airy whistle of the wind blowing past the grain tower room, calling back to it, but quietly, because it was not far away.  I cannot know exactly what work and care went into this place, but in the dust that flew in my face as I bent down to pick up rocks whispered a sort of reassurance.  I’ve never seen more wonderfully how a person can belong to a piece of land, and it will take care of them.

Bonnieview Farm

-Noah

I walked into the barn.  I heard them before I saw them. And then they were there, a swarm of sheep big and small, all different colours.  The cuteness was overwhelming. In the back of the room there was a young sheep who didn’t run from me, he ran towards me and began to suck my thumb.  And then it happened.  Its newly grown teeth sank into my flesh.  I yanked my hand away and saw the crimson blood flowing out.  But I couldn’t stay mad at something so cute.

“Man does not live by bread alone”. 

-Malcolm

Bread and Puppet Theatre was the second stop on our excursion, and it helped to shape my view of all the farms and farmers.  At Bread and Puppet they focused on the need for food and art.  For Farmers, food is their art.  Seeing Fred Webster’s Barns of old equipment showed clearly the lost medium that farming has become.  Visiting Butterworks, we could see the farmer’s love of the art.  Farmers like Jack, who farm for the land, may be slowly disappearing into the sunset.  But seeing the students at Sterling so excited about the land has sparked my hope.

Sterling College

-Conor

We spent a day working alongside Sterling College students. I really enjoyed this social explosion. It was great to have so many new people to talk to, especially since most of them shared similar interests. Luckily, most of the students seemed to enjoy having us there and talking to us. Sterling only has around a hundred students, so our group was almost ten percent of their student body. We were all happy to see new faces.

The atmosphere at Sterling was great. All the students really got into All-School Work Day and were happy to clean up their campus. Everyone knew everybody. Only first names were needed for people to know whom you were talking about. This tight-knit community seemed so similar to ours and I felt very welcomed and at home.

Farm Tour

-Josia

People like Jack Lazor are purely inspirational. How he went about everything was incredibly kind and honest.  I really wanted him to teach us more.  More about the process of making the farm, more about what he thinks of the world.

Farm tour, for me, was more about the people.  Even just the different ways we were shown around and spoken to about the places- from the shy farmer at Bonnieview to the really good-seeming, well-intentioned people who sell polywhey at Vermont Natural Coatings. Fred Webster in all his oddity, the women I ate dinner with and talked to at the church, the range of people at Sterling.  Jack and Anne Lazor and how much care and love they put into their work.  Even the librarian in Craftsbury who indulged my literary starvation.  They all brought unique perspectives, even different from Charlie Strickland or Chris or Misha or Tweeter or my parents.  And I’ve been listening.  And trying to really hear, not just nod or be complacent.  I actually have to think.

Vermont Natural Coatings

-Dean

When you go to visit a farm, you expect to meet a farmer. You don’t know what kind of person the farmer will be, but you are certain that they will be a farmer.

When we visited VNC I did not know who we could expect to meet. What kind of person works with wood finishings? I didn’t know.

When we arrived we met a group of resourceful and motivated people excited to turn a waste product into a business product. They came together because they had a desire to work with what they had around them & to create something that fulfills more than just their basic needs. VNC creates wood finishings out of the waste product whey, which you find in dairy farms.

Although they are not at the point where they can use leftover whey from their neighboring farm, or from Bonnieview, they are burning to. It is so frustrating to them that while it is so close physically it is so far economically. There is a lot of expensive equipment needed to process the whey before they can use it, so they are required to buy from farther sources. They would need to grow bigger to afford to stay local. Which is their goal.

On our visits we have mostly met farmers who are living in a very close relationship to their land. I really enjoyed seeing how similar ideas of how to live close to and within your surroundings can coalesce into a business that does not directly work the land.

The Church Dinner.

The 6^th Grade Spaghetti Supper.

Carlisle Old Home Day, with the frog jump contest & the aisle of local craftsmakers.

My frog never won that contest & every year I meet my friend at his mom’s booth in the aisle & I buy a few buttons and a dog toy. We go to the library book sale & there meet many more people. It’s sometimes more about the people than the books.

I am a part of Carlisle Old Home Day.

I met a family at the Church that we slept at when we visited Sterling College. They didn’t talk much to me about themselves. They asked me a lot of questions & leaned across the table, very very interested & proud of some kid they just met, who is not quite a kid anymore. But luckily, still just not quite a kid for a good while longer.

They took good care of their kids.

They stayed afterward to help clean up, & made sure to ask for more work before they found it was time for them to go home.

I wished them luck & I thanked them too.

They are a part of the Church & the 3^rd or 2^nd Wednesday Dinner every month.

Being a part of something feels good.

When all of our parents came here for Parent Weekend, that felt especially good.

It reminded me of the Mother’s Group that was a great part of my growing up.

I need to call Christian when I am back home. We talk sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a long time. I still call him Christian but I’m pretty sure the whole rest of the world calls him Chris now.

Being anonymous in a large place can be nice every now and then, but it doesn’t feel good forever.

I don’t think floating through everyone being your friend would make me happy for very long either.

A large small group of people.

A neighborhood.

A church dinner.

I like the way those place feel.

-Dean

Update 11

Ta-dah!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Family and Friends of the 2012 Kroka Vermont Semester,

We now present КОЗЕП, our new cedar and canvas canoe. We’ve spent the last week or so working relentlessly on it, but we sure could not have accomplished it without the guidance and help of Scott who left us on Sunday. He was an amazing teacher and I think the group agrees that his skills are unparalleled. It was sad to see him go, but he left us with an awesome canoe, put together by him and the group. The canoe is painted dark green, and the frame is primarily cedar. When one peers inside, little shiny gold specks glare up, the ends of tacks holding the boat together, awaiting an adventure on the water. 

That evening, we gathered around the boat with Scott and admired his and our work. It was beautiful to see, and there was little doubt that this was truly a masterpiece. I know we’re going to thoroughly enjoy using this precious water vessel. Elisa also left us on Saturday, but only after having taught us a few very crucial skills. Her enthusiasm and patience during our paddling lessons were greatly appreciated. 

We spent almost all of Monday finishing up on our academic work. We were busy making pack basket liners, doing laundry, and getting last minute assignments done before heading out on farm tour. 

Luckily, we were able to take a very welcome break in the afternoon for a walk in the woods.  

It was an amazing opportunity to learn about forest ecology and forest 

management from Jayson Benoit and Jon Cox.  

Jayson, the Operations Director and Land Management Coordinator at Northwoods, is an encyclopedic source of knowledge about the local ecosystems, and he can identify all the birds.  Jon is a 2011 Vermont Semester graduate who has been working at Northwoods since the summer.  We had a wonderful time thinking about forest stewardship, identifying wild edibles and spring ephemerals, looking for salamanders, and climbing a huge mossy boulder.  We are blessed to have people like Jayson and Jon as our hosts here at Northwoods.

During the day Conor decided to go and be a cooking god and made us surprise cinnamon rolls with apples and raisins inside and chocolate on top. I made a dinner of enchiladas and beans. Pleasantly stuffed, we proceeded to break out the ice cream Lu had brought us. It was a great night. 


On Tuesday morning, we got up, packed our sleeping bags and overnight stuff sacks, and got ready to head out on farm tour. The chores were finished and we all piled into the van to head for Bonnieview Farms, a sheep dairy farm near East Craftsbury. We arrived and got to see the cheese making facilities and pet the lambs. It was an amazing experience. I had never seen a lamb act like such a bro before (Malcolm, Noah, and I found this really awesome little lamb that just NEEDED to be chilled with). After that, we all went to Bread And Puppet, where we saw “cheap art” with lots of local history and political messages and puppet tableaus that were simultaneously disturbing and moving. 
We continued on our way, having wound our way across the distance of our entire small group solos several times, to Vermont Natural Coatings in Hardwick. We took a tour and learned about the finishes that we put on our paddles and canoe (we used Vermont Natural Coatings’ PolyWhey finishes) and their business and philosophy. The finishes are water-based and revolve around whey obtained from cheese makers, especially those in the area. 
After a very interesting yet exhausting day, we headed to Craftsbury, where we planned to spend the night in a church’s basement. We arrived in town a few hours early, so, upon noticing a library behind the church, some of us made a dash for the books, while others enjoyed the sunshine and green grass. Meanwhile, Noah and Malcolm played on the plastic alligator seesaw in the church backyard, before joining the rest of us.

And so I sit here writing in the library, looking at a pine tree out the window, occasionally looking into a book titled "Strange Stories, Amazing Facts Of America’s Past",and writing the update. I know we’ll have an adventure tomorrow. We’ll be headed to Sterling College for their All-College Workday, and subsequently back to the church at which we’re staying to participate in a community dinner, but we can save that all for next time.

Stay Tuned!

Update 10

It’s like when you greet the day and it actually works.  As in, your brain shuts up for once and all of a sudden the trees and the wind and the sky are all BAM! In your face! Then is when the being out under and in it all is real and living. Not when you go for a whale watch or some removed way of being immersed in nature, but when the civilized educated human thing turns off and the trees actually start talking. 

I love having conversations with trees.  Sometimes, it’s the best kind of medicine for internal confusion or cranial distress of any kind.  Just sitting up there in a crown of magic-filled buds, with your arms wrapped around its trunk, feels like the best kind of hug. All the social nuances and people’s opinions about stupid crazy tree-huggers fade away.  Al of a sudden it’s just me and the tree, ready to converse.  But being alone is completely necessary, so everything can be described without self-consciousness;  “Hey tree, I’m leaving for 5 months and I’m so confused.  Can you listen a minute? And then keep a good eye on my family and kitties for me while I’m gone?  Thank you.  I love you.  I’ll come chat with you a while every day until I leave, I promise. 

Conversations like that are a bit silly.  But really, they happen because I feel like humans and trees are compatible and possibly even able to think at each other and understand each other’s thoughts. I want to always be able to feel how I do when I’m splayed out on a warm rock as though it’s absorbing me.  I want to know how those little buds feel when the sun is knocking on their outer casing, asking to be let in, making everything inside the bud want to burst and dance and glow in the radiant light.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy to put so much trust in the trees.  But maybe I’m not. I used to carry an acorn around in my pocket, pressed up against my leg all the time, so that the seed of hope and rebirth for that tree could always be with me and touching me, sort of.  Now that acorn lives in my sleeping bag. That one tiny nut was often enough to get me through the day at school, when I felt my soul being leeched out from inside of me, stripped of all its tree-induced spunk. But I wouldn’t say everyone feels like this.  It’s something you have to want, or need, and then sustain.  Not everyone cares, or is able to let go of society enough to actually listen to their gut and let themselves talk to the trees.

-Josia

Hello again to all families and friends of the 2012 Kroka Vermont Semester.

There’s been a lot going on here at NorthWoods with Kroka as of late. Guest teachers continue to come and go, but the lessons and skills left by each one will resonate forever.

Chris and Ashirah, who had come to teach basket making, left on Friday, April 6 after we had completed our pack baskets. It was tough to say goodbye after spending a week with them, their kids, and the brown ash, however, their impact was immediately felt. We’ve made our pack baskets an indispensible part of our daily lives, using them to carry our day-to-day supplies to and fro around NorthWoods. Without them, we might have continued to be organizational messes (not that we ever were).

During the afternoon on Friday, parents and families began arriving for Parent Weekend. We were all very excited to see them. We showed them around and got them acquainted with our new lives. There was a lot to catch up on, between showing off our recent projects and being briefly reintroduced to the outside world by our families, which felt almost like a little blast of culture shock.

For dinner on Friday, our families participated in a beautiful and delicious Seder (traditional Passover meal and ceremony) that was led by Michal’s family. We all went to bed with full stomachs after a good day.

On Saturday, families came to a traditional Kroka breakfast of kasha, cheesy eggs, potatoes, yogurt, jam, and milk. Afterward, everyone set out to spend the day with their loved ones, some choosing to relax and enjoy the day at NorthWoods, others choosing to leave briefly and explore the area. Evening rolled around and families gathered for dinner and a presentation from the students. After feasting on a wonderfully prepared potluck, everyone settled down for the presentation, to which the public was invited. We divided into two groups and performed skits. Everett, Conor, Dean, and Adam performed a skit about the “two inner voices” heard by all semester students. Adam was faced with many day-to-day predicaments and the voices that accompanied them, played by Everett and Conor. Dean narrated and played the roles of snow, sun, and log. 

Malcolm, Josia, Noah, Michal, and I performed a skit about “betting hills” from the first leg of the expedition. Malcolm went from audience member to audience member making bets on how each skier (Josia, Michal, Noah, & myself) would fare as they skied down the icy slope. Several audience members won pieces of chocolate. Along with the skits, we sang a few songs, talked about the trees we’ve learned about, explained our new Large Jobs, and answered questions. A slide show containing pictures from the winter expedition and our stay thus far at NorthWoods followed. After that, everyone got up, moved the chairs out, and got ready for the contra dance. It was quite interesting and amusing to watch our families (and ourselves) fumble and stumble while attempting to dance. That night was a very entertaining one.

On Sunday morning, we ate breakfast with our families and enjoyed the last few hours to be shared with them during this visit. When lunchtime came, everyone gathered in a circle. My family and I introduced cascarones, confetti-filled eggshells used for breaking on people’s heads, to the group as a way to celebrate Easter. On the U.S. – Mexico border, this is a popular tradition. My own Easter experiences are covered in confetti from having fun cascaron wars with family. After viewing a demonstration of my sister cracking one on my head, everyone under 20 years of age received two cascarones for use as they pleased. From that point on, a good number of people had confetti stuck in their hair. We shared another potluck meal together and finally said our goodbyes. Goodbyes like these can be emotional, but we anticipate seeing our folks again at graduation.

On Monday, Scott, our canoe-building teacher, arrived, as did Polly, a wilderness guide and dog musher who brought us the canoe mold we would be using. She also presented a slide show of pictures from her wilderness experiences in Canada, Alaska, and Maine. 

On Tuesday, Elisa, our paddling teacher arrived, and we got working on the canoe. At that point, we began to realize just how quickly the spring expedition is coming up on us. As of today, we’ve finished the frame, planking, seats, and ribs. It’s really coming along.

And now, here are a couple entries from a recent session of Pushups and Poetry.  I hope you enjoy them!

-Willie 

We have lived on this earth for thousands of years and have spread across it into vast civilizations. From nomadic tribes of hunters to the people of the cities we subsist in some form or other off the earth and what is or once was wilderness.  These days, there is an abyss between most of our lives and the earth.  We have forgotten that we need it to live.

But for some of us, the wilderness is life.  The birds chirp there and the sun sets more beautifully.  It is a place where, under stars and moon, we can sleep without the worries of the modern age.  Even as it is a temple of great magnitude and beauty, it is even more what we need to survive.

Our food and water comes from the earth’s wilder places.  This is where I have felt a connection with the earth, in its beauty and grandeur and in the water and plants and creatures we consume.  Taking the life of a creature with whom we share the planet is where I feel the greatest bond can be formed.  Using everything, from its meat to its hide and blood.  It creates something stronger and brings me closer to the place and the land it came from and the wild life it lived.

-Everett

 Many people view the natural world as something to be dominated and taken advantage of. We clear forests to build farms and cities.  We use resources until there are very few to be used. We expect the world to give and don’t repay it in kind.

I am learning the importance of living alongside nature. My experiences on this journey have brought me closer to nature than many people will ever find themselves.  My teachers have instilled within me a consciousness of the world around me.  Even more importantly, I have learned the great importance of the single act of giving thanks.  I now think to thank the resource I am using, whether it’s a tree or a beaver.  I realize that it is a gift.  These are simple thing, yet they are critical to my relationship with the natural world.

There needs to be a balance. Take only what you need and give back, even if all you can do is say thank-you.

-Conor