From Chopping Wood to Climbing Ice
Since last September I have been working as a wilderness instructor at Thistledew Camp in northern Minnesota. Before I signed up for this job, I was not aware that their winter could be this brutal; for my last couple courses there, single digit in day time was common and forty and fifty below at night time was not unheard of. Since one of the main elements of the program is a therapeutic process to guide adjudicated youth toward self-recognition and self-confidence, a campfire is always necessary not only for cooking but also to encourage teens to engage in discussion.
Once we reach our campsite, before we set up our tents, we have to gather dead trees and saw them into burnable pieces. Sometimes when a piece is too thick, as an instructor equipped with an axe, I am responsible of splitting it into halves or even quarters. I was raised in Taipei and reside in Philly; even though I never call myself a city girl, splitting wood is certainly not my expertise. I remember I looked at the axe in my hand and the log in front of me, “this can’t be too hard.†I lifted my axe and “boom†the log laid on the ground intact like a sleeping beauty. I do not recall how many tries to get through the first piece. I only remember I got attached to the new challenge and woke up next morning with a sore lower back.
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