Spring? Are you here?

Seems like there is always that one weekend in the fall where it rains and make the forest floor wet. And it seems like it really stays damp for the next five months. I always noticed it. Then there always seems to be that one day in the spring where the sun peaks through and the warm air swells, getting your hopes up about the coming change.

Deep down, you know you aren’t done with the cold just yet. But for some reason you can’t keep the hope from rising. That’s the wonderful power of Spring and its accompanying theme of renewal. It’s the metaphor of life, and it is beyond suppression.

I had just such reflections a couple of years ago, sitting around an early spring campsite:

Darkness ambled its way over the hilltops and into the deep valleys, vanquishing the day’s bold temperatures as only the cold of a spring night can. The same woods that burst with sound and life during the day, drift off early to bed. The quiet of the night is thick and it quickly envelops the field where we camp. If the spring’s days are being wooed by the coming summer, then its nights still reside firmly in winter’s possession.

The cold that accompanies the dark seems to sting more as well, as if the warm sun with its brief daytime reprieve has charmed the body into dropping its natural defenses. To fight back against the chill, we huddle around a tight circle of ten stones surrounding our bright glowing blaze.

And nothing draws a crowd like a fire.

We sit around it as groups have for thousands of years, enamored by the simplicity and the mysterious contrast it offers up to the night sky. Maybe a few things are different. Technology and different clothes, different hairstyles. But as a people, we haven't changed much.

Just a week or so ago, we had that day. The day where it was warm and bright. Where the shadows were crisp and defined by strong light, a welcome change from the dreariness of the preceding months.

And then hope came.

Of longer days.

Of wild flowers.

Of forest paths once more first and dry.

But I promise myself I won’t be duped again. I remind myself that the cold isn’t completely gone. That’s winter grip, the hardest to break, is still clutching the evening and nights. I know I have before, but this year I won’t allow hope to pull the wool over my eyes.

And then as the cardinal taps at my morning window, I wonder out loud if that is true.  

-JW

Yosemite

All of my life, I have heard stories about Yosemite. When I was younger, I would get it and Yellowstone confused. “Now which one is the one in California and which one has Old Faithful?” For a while there, I often wondered how Yosemite Sam fit into the equation. Soon after, a short lesson at my elementary school straightened most all of those facts out for me. The lesson focused on the valley floor and the prominent features of Half Dome, El Cap and Yosemite Falls. The teacher’s son had been on a trip across country and brought back photos for his mom to use in class. I was 11 and the trip seemed like another world to me. This far off, vast world of giant falls, giant mountains and giant trees.

Thirty years later, when I pulled through the tunnel accessing the valley, the essence didn’t feel all that different. We parked the rental van in the overlook lot and scrambled up the hill across the street to get a better view. There were six of us. As we stood there taking in our first look at the postcard setting, it truly seemed like looking into a world less real that the one behind us.

Over the next week, we adventured around and explored every spot we could get to in the park. We hit all the big points, we drove every road, we climbed around every lake, river, or waterfall we could find. We made plans about where we go next time and backcountry routes we would like to attempt. We hung out in the famous Camp 4. We sat in awe as big wall climbers ascended vertical cliffs. We talked with through-hikers on the John Muir Trail. And we watched a momma bear and her cubs amble through the underbrush.

But mostly, we realized two things: 1) Just how great our National Parks are and 2) the power and beauty of nature is absolutely universal. On the first point, we could have spent three weeks in the Yosemite and had something great to do every day. We were impressed by the park and their employees. The Junior Ranger experience absolutely “top shelf” there. I can’t tell you the number of times we would be hiking out somewhere and a ranger would come out of nowhere, usually on horseback, and would weed through the crowd to get to my son. All because they saw him wearing his ranger hat and vest. He talked about it for months. On the second point, you will never see a more diverse crowd of folks than you do at some of these places. All countries, all areas, all ages. All making a pilgrimage there.

People often ask me about our trip there, much like my teachers’ son back in elementary school. They want to know about the big ticket items, as well as the logistics of travel. A few things I usually mention:

• We found that Yosemite isn’t really close to anything. When you are finding a place to stay, outside a few places within the park, everything is about an hour drive from the valley.

• Traffic in the valley is just like what people say. Wild. Find a parking spot and use the trolley system, for certain.

• Expect the unexpected. Someone told me that there always seemed to be something big going on in Yosemite, it’s so popular. Well, they were right. The third day we were there, some of our plans got changed because of an unexpected visitor: The President of the United States! Evidently it was a Father’s Day gift to President Obama.

And then lastly, Tuolumne. Pronounced too-AH-lum-ee. A meadow on the northern part of the park. The valley may get the headlines, but for me this was the place to be. A world-class beauty of a meadow with a winding river running through it. My favorite moment of the trip was when the whole family hiked to the top of Pothole Dome in this area. Beyond description.

Outdoor Kids

You don’t have to work hard to get your kid to like playing in the outdoor arena. Climbing trees, splashing around in a creek, hiking through the woods…these are all things that fall into the “naturally enjoyable” category for most youngsters. Even the little intricacies they gobble up, like packing up their backpack, looking at the map and choosing their snacks. For the most part. So many of the intentional parent moves are about getting kids to do things that are good for them and a lot of them involve a lot of convincing. You very rarely have to convince a kid to play outdoors and enjoy themselves, but you will have to work if you are going to teach them to appreciate it.

There are a couple of reasons why.

Competition – I heard stats a couple of weeks ago about how visitation to the National Parks is trending down and the average age of the visitor is trending up. Now, I personally don’t know if this is true but it wouldn’t surprise me. I find my child’s attention is fought for every waking minute of his life. He has an army of electronic options ready to entertain him with thousands and thousands of choices. Constantly.

“Wired” Parents – It is easy to talk about how electronics have changed the world for our kids, but in my experience those same kids are being impacted by parents whose lives are also drastically altered by devices and connectivity. A quote my wife and I read the other day said that for nearly every parent in the country, the last thing they touch at night and the first thing they touch in the morning is their phone.

Exposure – As pleasant as my childhood was, we weren’t exposed to much appreciation for the

outdoors. We played on the ball teams when they were in season, went to beach in the summer if we were lucky, and reserved the outdoors for hunting or fishing. We would visit a state park or two each year, typically the same ones. The only National Parks we ever went to were Smoky Mountains and Mammoth Caves, both great places. And this was the exact same blueprint of every friend and family I knew growing up. Our exposure was limited by the routines and cultures we were familiar with.

So when I think of how I want my son to grow up knowing the outdoors and appreciating the wilderness, the plan requires some strategy. You are competing for attention, and there are a lot of competitors, so first we always strive to make things as enjoyable for him as possible. The hikes can’t be too long or too tough. Fatigue can ruin everything. We try to cut him loose a bit and try to not to constantly tell him what not to do (which is an easy one to fall into).

Don’t swing on that.

Stay out of the mud.

Don’t climb on rocks.

Again, these can be a mood killer for the young adventurers.

We try to build trips around something with some novelty for the young mind. A swinging bridge, a hidden arch, a cave to explore. We make a big deal of the snacks and food. They love to compare what they’ve packed. We try to coordinate to invite a buddy at every opportunity. As much as we like to be together as a family, having friends along is always a special treat.

We talk as a family about limiting time on electronics and collectively work to maintain balance in these areas. Although this seems overwhelming for some people to consider, I have found that once we turn it off and store it in the backpack, you forget all about it shortly after you start down the trail.

And lastly, we commit to exposing our family to as many diverse and engaging outdoor experiences as we can. Some big and some small, but definitely some of both. Every year, we are going to set goals about how many nights we want to spend in a tent, or days on a trail or on a bike. We talk about places we have dreamed of going and try to go to some of them.

And when we are not out there going, we talk about going. My son seems to write about it every year when he gets back to school when they ask what you’ve done over the summer. We watch outdoor-themed movies and shows about the parks. We try, as parents, to live out what we say in hopes to model important themes for him – that there are great things to be experienced outdoors. There’s excitement, there’s adventure, and there’s much to be learned. And the wilderness is a place to be enjoyed, experienced, and protected.

Sometimes, you might even have to harness it back in. Tonight, he said, “Is summer long enough to visit every place in the world? How could we do that and fit it all in?”